Caroline Ryder

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And the Oscar Goes To….Lina Lecaro!

And the Oscar Goes To....Lina Lecaro, for being the only member of the Style Council sober enough to actually write anything on Oscar night. We had such grand plans, there was even talk of providing our devoted reader(s) with a live blog about the ceremony. But the furthest we got......
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Its The Oscars and I'll Cry If I Want To

It always creeps up on me...the Oscars. Already, Hollywood Blvd is shut off at Highland. I know this because I had to go to the Roosevelt Hotel this evening to interview Amanda Scheer Demme. As I waited for her in the lobby it was impossible not to notice the dozens......

Master of the Off-Chance

When three-quarters of the Style Council (Steffie, Linda and myself) decided to go to Joshua Tree for a weekend of high-desert shenanigans, we knew to expect the unexpected — after all, this is the land of UFOs, shooting stars and the Integratron (a strange acoustically perfect dome supposedly designed to......
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Madonna playing Coachella

Madonna, clearly incensed that fellow music icon Robert Plant got to hang with the Style Council in the desert, is now planning a little sandy excursion of her own...looks like the Material Girl is dusting off her cowboy boots and bullwhip and will join the caravan to Coachella next month......
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Holy Shit It's Robert Plant

When three quarters of the Style Council (Steffie, Linda and myself) decided to go to Joshua Tree for a weekend of high desert jinx, we knew to expect the unexpected - after all, this is the land of UFOs, shooting stars and the Integratron (a strange acoustically-perfect dome supposedly designed......
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The Eyes of Don Bachardy…On Me

Sitting still has never been one of my strong points, unless, of course, it involves nodding off with a work of literature delicately balanced on my nose. So when portraitist Don Bachardy offered to paint me in 2004 it was a mixed blessing - on the one hand, it meant......
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Donita Sparks' Mushroom Mullet

I remember going to see L7 at London's Brixton Academy as a teenager. It was 1992, I was 15, and L7 were, in my opinion, the crown princesses of grunge. The show was pubescent riot grrrl heaven...I wore black eyeliner, torn fishnets and DM boots and wished I could look......
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Evenings Become Eclectic

I love those nights that don't feel planned or forced in any way, but just become brilliantly memorable, seemingly of their own accord. That's kinda what happened at Bar 107 downtown on Wednesday. It was a party of some sort - can't remember whose - the guys from Killradio's GTFU......
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Happy Valentine's Day

This will be the second Valentines Day in a row I have no official object of affection. But this year, February 14th singledom feels perfectly OK,  compared with last year's Valentine's Day trauma. Back then I was stuck in the middle of a horrible unrequited love affair, my first of......
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Making Eyes At Sir Paul, Chatting Up Rodney B

Even though he's a millionaire rock star, it totally sucks to be Sir Paul McCartney. I know, I saw him last night at the EMI Grammy party on the Paramount lot, and rather than enjoying the usual trappings of rock stardom - hot girls sitting on your lap, mountains of......