Find out what's getting swept under the Oscar Red Carpet.
Lola Santisi is a 26 year-old member of Hollywood Royalty (Papa's vying for Best Director Oscar #2 and Mom's a fixture at The Ivy). Without a kingdom--or even a condo--to call her own, she suffers from twin afflictions: Actorholism (a fatal addiction to dating hunky actors) and CDD (Career Deficit Disorder, an epidemic among children of Hollywood Royalty). Her latest gig as a Hollywood Ambassador means she's been engaging in LA's cruelest blood sport: convincing celebrities to wear her designer's gowns to the Oscars.
Lola's first best friend is Kate, a Hollywood talent agent desperate to go from unter to über, whether we're talking sex, work, or both. Lola's other BFF is Cricket, a struggling model/actress looking to surpass her role as a coma victim on Grey's Anatomy.
Together they dodge fashion roadkill while navigating the GM Fashion Show, the Gagosian dinner at Mr. Chow, Barry Diller and Diane von Furstenberg's pre-Oscar picnic, Ed Limato's chic soiree, and more--until ultimately they end their week at the über-exclusive Vanity Fair Oscar party.
But who will be left standing in her stilettos as the sun rises at Patrick Whitesell's even more exclusive after after Oscar party?
Proust Questionaires
(click to read)
Lola Santisi
Kate Woods
Cricket Curtis
Lola in Translation
BFF: Best Friend Forever. As in, my BFF, super agent Kate Woods.
BGF: Best Gay (Friend) Forever. As in, my BGF, fashion designer extraordinaire Julian Tennant.
BAF: Best Actress (Friend) Forever. As in, my BAF, the next Nicole Kidman, Cricket Curtis.
Actorholic: According to my therapist, Dr. Gilmore, “Someone addicted to dating narcissistic actors.” In my case, because I’m trying to work out a relationship with a narcissistic father who’s incapable of loving anyone other than himself. My picture would be next to the definition in a dictionary.
Career Deficit Disorder: Going from one job to another with little purpose or success. According to my therapist, Dr. Gilmore, this is a very common affliction among “Adult Children Of’s.” Again, my picture would grace the dictionary definition.
Hollywood Ambassador: Someone whose job it is to convince celebrities to wear a designer on the Oscar Red Carpet. This is no easy feat since convincing celebrities to do anything is a nightmare.
Noonie Moonie: To flash one’s naked noonie publicly without so much as a Cosabella thong, pair of lace La Perlas, or even hair covering one down there. Most commonly occurs in celebutantes exiting cars in front of waiting paparazzi, begging the question, “is bald the new Brazilian?” Immediately followed by, “Has she lost her mind along with her panties?” As in, I spin around to find a certain Teenage Movie Queen (whose proclivity for hitting the hotspots sans panties has given her a second crown: Queen of the Noonie Moonie) has placed her chipped Black Satin Chanel fingernails on my naked shoulder.
Land of the Free, Home of the Swag: “Hospitality suites” set up in ritzy hotels, swank salons, and humongous Hollywood homes around town during Oscar Week. They exist only to pamper, pedicure, pluck, primp, prep and beautify, Botox, bedeck, and bejewel all the “istas”, “tantes”, and “ites” readying themselves for Oscar. Because everything is free one can easily become...
A Swagaholic: Spending too much time in the Land of the Free and the Home of the Swag can give any girl a severe case of the Gimmes. Think “Supermarket Sweep,” only custom red chevron Goyard monogrammed trunks instead of grocery carts.
P.A. (on a movie set): Textbook meaning: production assistant. True meaning: Please Abuse.
Spiritual Uplift: Strictly speaking, this is often the case in Hollywood if by “spiritual” you mean “eye,” “boob,” and “ass.”
Roman Polanski’d: Exiled. As in, SHE should be Roman Polanski’d to a barren desert with no water and lots of land mines.
Prefontaine: Hurry; to run like Steve Prefontaine. As in, I Prefontaine the precious threads back to my car.
Spray-on Sickness: Primarily plagues celebrities during Awards season, rendering them a radioactive Day-Glo orange instead of the intended natural golden-brown, sun-kissed shade.
Celebrity Flu: Generally strikes the moment you grace the cover of your first tabloid. Symptoms include loss of ability to do your own supermarket shopping or laundry, cook, screw in a light bulb, or most definitely board a commercial 767 with the masses instead of the corporate G550.
Celebrity Flu is sadly genetic, manifesting itself in neglected, Fred Segal-clad Children Of,who require copious amounts of therapy to work through the fact that their parents’ idea of a family dinner is midnight at Spago–on a school night–and their idea of a sixteenth birthday present is a trip to the cosmetic reupholsterer.
Hollywood Exhaustion: A popular excuse given by publicists when their star clients fail to show up on set, to the Today Show taping, or to that magazine cover shoot because they were too “exhausted” when really they were out till 6 A.M. throwing back shots at the Chateau. Side effects include the inevitable disclosure to The Star by a “dear friend” that you were seen snorting blow like a truffle pig backstage at the Actors’ Fund Nursing Home fundraiser. Followed by the embarrassing videotape of you behind the wheel of your Bentley, with your Venti Starbucks in hand, running down a photog staked outside The Ivy, then making a getaway in your bodyguards’ Escalade can bring on this “exhaustion.”
The Unworthies: The full frontal humiliation of feeling that everyone on the planet is prettier, smarter, sexier, funnier, and better dressed than you.
The Unworthies go into overdrive during public breakups (and with TMZ.com, is any breakup not public in Hollywood?), box office duds, and birthdays, and they’re positively rampant during Oscar Week.
Symptoms include overdoses of Botox, Kabbalah, photo ops, couture, and Ativan.
Teetering on Girl Interrupted: Going berserk. As in, I’m teetering on Girl Interrupted. Often a direct result of a severe case of the Unworthies.
Plan B: An aura-cleansing mini-meditation, a regloss, and a quick pee. Used to combat the Unworthies and Girl Interrupted flashes–especially when the fetal position isn’t an option and Ativan isn’t readily available.
Do a Virginia Woolf: Kill one’s self–the seemingly only option when Plan B fails. As in, it was a toss-up: strangle myself with my hot pink lace Cosabella undies or do a Virginia Woolf by loading my pockets with rocks and drowning myself in the Roosevelt’s Hockney painted pool.
A John Belushi: Overdosing. As in, this is not the time to pull a John Belushi on me.
Paris Hilton Screwed: Totally and completely out of luck. As in, I’m Paris Hilton Screwed.
Amanda Goldberg is the daughter of film and TV producer Leonard Goldberg. She received her B.A. in English Literature and Art History at the University of Pennsylvania. She began her career working for fashion designer Todd Oldham in New York before returning to Hollywood to join her father's production company, where she was the associate producer on the blockbuster film Charlie's Angels.
Ruthanna Khalighi Hopper is Dennis Hopper's daughter. She received her B.A. in Art History at the University of California at Davis and studied theatre in New York City at William Esper. She started her career in production in New York and went on to produce and co-star with her father in the critically acclaimed independent film Americano.
The authors currently reside high in the hills above HOLLYWEIRD.
Read a conversation with Amanda and Ruthanna here.
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