So this week has featured a houseguest, and at the moment, I feel nearly as weary as poor Miss Mary Cassatt here...

I love stumbling, unawares, onto a treasurable character; this lady most definitely was one.

Three staunch ladies, lunching at the Russian Tea Room. What one would have given to be a fly on the wall...

I don't believe I'd thought of Martin Milner, in anything more than the most fleeting of ways, in 20 years, at least until the sad news of his journey to Fabulon came out over the weekend.

For no good reason other than it's a dull Tuesday, let's look in on Sra. Peron as she picks a chapeau from her imposing collection.  The year is 1950, and Life is there, in the person of the excellent photographer Gisele Freund (whom I most know from her photographs of Virginia Woolf, which are disconcertingly in color - if only the same were true of these hats!).

Here's a little treat for what is, at least here in Our Nation's Capital, a gray but rather pleasant summer Sunday.  I can't think of a more refreshing way to spend eleven minutes or so, at least not in mixed company...

For no particularly good reason other than I must be on the mend, as eye candy is once again appealing, Mr. Elliott Gould, once upon a time.  I don't know about you, but I'm intrigued; say what you will, Babs has good taste in more than just music...

2015 is really shaping up to be a bad year for legends, isn't it?  Miss Rainer would seem, as the old year passed, to have set the tone, and today we say goodbye to Miss Anita Ekberg, seen here defining "fierce" in a casual little snap by that sweet beacon of innocence and sunshine, Mr. Helmut Newton.

Now, Rod Taylor may not have been an actor for the ages, but I think we can agree that he was easy on the eyes.

Miss Nina tells it like it is.  Like it still fucking is. Goddamit.

Reading an interview this morning with Miss Anjelica Huston got me thinking, in several different directions.