- June 24, 2013
For those who have seen me at the flurry of fund-raisers and social events of late, you know that I generally have a party poll question, a concept stolen from one of my all-time favorite movies, Heathers. I have wanted to pull this one out of my chapeau recently: What would you pack if you were headed to a deserted island?
Alas, I caught a bug and was on doctor-ordered bed rest for a spell. I always look for the silver lining and envisioned myself as a character out of Downton Abbey sent to a sanitarium for rest. During this time, I watched too much television, since the March and April fashion mags were so thin. While surfing with my remote, I found myself intrigued by reruns of Gilligan’s Island. BTW, wouldn’t Eddie Redmayne make for a chic interpretation of Gilligan?
Of course, I channeled Thurston and Lovey Howell and imagined bringing a few dozen steamer trunks to the island. While roughing it, their lives were still more glamorous than most. So, since I couldn’t ask the aforementioned party poll question to my dear readers in person, I have decided to answer it myself. In my monogrammed Louis Vuitton trunks I would pack for both myself and a companion — I am fantasizing either Parker Posey or Carla Bruni — the following necessities:
• Animal-themed accessories, à la Judith Leiber bags, a Cavalli parrot necklace, Blahnik and Choo birdcage heels. I will steer clear of owls, which now seem to be omnipresent with more sightings in retail than in the wild.
• Kiehl’s Since 1851 sunscreen by the gallon. We all know the damage sun can do, and who knows how long we will be on the island. A chic hat appropriate for the Kentucky Derby might also be a smart fashion move.
• An iPod — one of those chic YSL ones — loaded with an eclectic mix ranging from Wagner to the Go-Go’s (particularly their classic, “Vacation”).
• A Tom Ford tuxedo for me. Most notably the floral version he did in 2011. For her? An assortment of McQueen and Dior frocks. Just because we are on a deserted island doesn’t mean we should lose all sense of civility and forget about dressing for cocktails and dinner.
• And, of course, cases and cases of great wine and liquor. Need I explain?
If you are game to play the roles of the Captain, the Professor, Mary Ann or Ginger, send me an e-mail. We definitely need a Gilligan to drive us around the island in a rickshaw. Just like on the show, if we didn’t know each other already, I’m sure it would be oodles of fun. Billy Fong, firstname.lastname@example.org