Meryl Streep wore a gold Lanvin gown made from eco-certified fabric, Colin Firth (deliberately) “recycled” his tux from last year, and Kenneth Branagh, John Krasinski, Djimon Hounsou, and Demián Bichir all wore Zegna, who design patterns that reduce fabric waste and recycle scrap material into new textiles. And Missi Pyle from The Artist wore an eco-conscious gown by Valentina Delfino, winner of the “Red Carpet Green Dress” design contest, an initiative by Suzy Amis Cameron (James Cameron’s wife) to promote sustainable clothing on the red carpet.

(I have many questions about the money spent, the energy used and the pollution caused by the manufacture of “eco-friendly” gowns that apparently take “weeks” to make, but I’ll reserve judgment until I can do more research. Of course, I applaud the use of organic and recycled fabrics, and support companies that use “green” methods in manufacturing, but vintage is really the best way to go if you care about the environment.)

Although encouraged by the attention that sustainable clothing has been getting on the red carpet, I miss seeing top stars like Reese Witherspoon, Marisa Tomei, Julia Roberts, Demi Moore, Penelope Cruz and Renee Zellweger proudly wearing vintage to important events. As a matter of fact, I have a theory…which I hope to back up statistically at some point…that wearing vintage seems to bring good luck: nominees who wear vintage consistently win. Congrats to Meryl for wearing a sustainable gown and for winning her third Oscar!

Halston (few know his first name, Roy, or his last name, Frowick) was one of the most influential designers of all time. A  charismatic, over-the-top personality, master of promotion and flamboyant spender who lived life to its fullest and then, due to greed and drugs, fell out of favor, is a cautionary tale that makes for great storytelling. But the mythology of Halston’s life is not his legacy: the clothes are. He was a gifted designer who had great instincts and made clothing that was innovative and commercial (and sexy as hell.) His 70s dresses remain highly collectible and their low-key glamor still appeals to celebrities.

Halston started out as a milliner at Bergdorf Goodman. His big break came when he designed Jackie Kennedy’s seamless pillbox hat worn to her husband’s inauguration in 1961. She wore the hat tipped back on her head, making fashion history and allowing him to leave Bergdorfs and start his own ready-to-wear line. His atelier on Madison Avenue became a gathering place for the city’s hottest celebrities, and as he became more successful he moved into an ostentatious, entirely mirrored showroom on 5th Avenue. He started hanging out with Liza Minelli, Liz Taylor and Bianca Jagger (all wore his designs) and his entourage of “Halstonettes” (his loyal models) at trendy venues like Studio 54. He lived life to its fullest, spending crazy amounts of money on things like orchids ($200,000 per year) and living in an expensive modern townhouse on the Upper East Side that was decorated in minimalistic shades of gray. His financial decisions were questionable, but his legendary over-the-top antics garnered him a lot of press and promoted the sale of his clothing.

“They were all impressed with your Halston dress and the people that you knew at Elaine’s…” (Billy Joel, “Big Shot”)

My mom was a big fan of Halston, and although she couldn’t afford his clothing, she bought the McCall’s patterns, the Halston fabric (I spent many afternoons with her at Jerry Brown, who provided all the fabric to the big-name designers, on 57th Street) and sewed the clothing herself. She could, however, afford Halston (the wildly successful fragrance) and wore it for most of the 70s to places like Maxwell’s Plum, the hot bar on First Avenue where the beautiful people would get drunk before going to Studio 54 (my parents tried to go once, but they didn’t get in.) The iconic Halston bottle, designed by his muse, Elsa Peretti, is still displayed in my parents’ bathroom.

In 1977, Halston made the grave error of selling his name to JC Penny in a billion-dollar deal that turned out to be his downfall. Bergdorfs and other high-end retailers didn’t want to be associated with him anymore and canceled all future orders. Adding insult to injury, the low-end JC Penny line Halston III didn’t sell and he was ousted as its designer. Halston tried to revive his career but was unable to, and in the 80s he discovered he had AIDS and moved to San Francisco to die (he did, in 1990.)

“Ultrasuede: In Search of Halston” is a new documentary that is infinitely watchable for the 70s footage of Halston’s world. The director, Whitney Sudler-Smith, however, is an amateur: inept at interviews, uneducated about filmmaking and a fame whore who insists on being in every scene. But seeing it made me rethink Halston’s legacy. He became so highly regarded in Europe that he shifted the geography of the fashion industry, putting the spotlight on American designers who were designing clean, modern sportswear. Diane von Furstenberg, Calvin Klein, Donna Karan and many, many others owe their careers to Halston.

Trolling eBay for vintage Halston is disappointing: there’s not much available. But I do plan to ransack my mom’s closet this weekend and see if she kept any of her homemade Halstons. I won’t be wearing them to Studio 54…that era is long gone…but I sure can wear them at dinner parties in my loft, which my friend Harv, Jr. dubbed, “Studio 44.”

Most of my wardrobe comes from thrift stores, vintage stores, and eBay. I do buy new clothing from time to time (jeans, for example, since vintage ones just don’t fit me properly) but avoid it when I can. The items in my closet that I fall out of love with get recycled: resold, traded, or donated.

Beacon’s Closet is awesome. I shouldn’t even call it a thrift shop because it’s nothing like the anachronistic thrift shops I grew up with: it’s actually a shop that has a modern approach to buying and selling used clothing. You bring them a bag of clothing you don’t want anymore, they give you a store credit and then you get to shop for free. The pieces they don’t want you can leave behind for donation. This method of guilt-free shopping thrills me. You spend zero money, go home with “new” clothing, responsibly recycle and donate to a good cause.Those extravagant afternoons at Barneys have become a distant memory (and I don’t miss them.)

Ruby, my 17-year-old daughter, was actually the one who turned me on to Beacon’s Closet. It thrills me that she’s passionate about thrifting because it’s really fun to do it together. She’s committed to the whole thrifting lifestyle: she belongs to an online clothing swap at her school, searches for (discounted) designer jeans on eBay and won’t even buy a new book. Maybe growing up in mommy’s vintage clothing store had something to do with it.

Yesterday Ruby and I brought a bag of old stuff to Beacon’s, got a $75 credit, and with it bought a gorgeous puff-sleeved 70s blazer ($17), a Christopher Fischer cashmere sweater ($24) with a hand-embroidered owl on it (I have a thing for owls), a white crochet sweater ($15) and a pair of Sigerson Morrison shoes ($25). Ok, so I ended up spending $17, but in New York there’s not even tax on items under $55!

Luckily Ruby has the same shopping philosophy as me (shopping requires concentration and is best done alone) so once inside we split up and remind each other to “look for stuff for me, too!” (Grunge dresses for me, oversized cashmere cardigans for her.) True, like any thrift shop, you have to look through lots of other people’s fashion faux pas to find a gem, but Beacon’s is curated so it seems that you always do.

I couldn’t help but notice that 90% of the items I looked at were made in China (even those from my beloved DVF, who manufactured her iconic wrap dresses in Italy in the 70s.) A whopping 1/3 of all apparel imports in the U.S. come from China, and unfortunately it’s impossible to know the details of how responsibly these items are manufactured. I hope people will become more aware of the benefits (financial, environmental, and social) of purchasing vintage and used clothing, especially when there are stores like Beacon’s Closet that make “thrift” shopping such a pleasant experience.

The priciest item was a 1968 Christian Dior gown of beaded silver brocade with a matching purse. It had an estimate of $6,000 but fetched a whopping $362,500. Two other items soared past the $100,000 mark: a Chanel ball gown and cape with shoes and matching bag ($134,500) and a Gianni Versace bolero jacket, beaded with portraits of Taylor in her famous roles ($128,500). Other highlights included the Gina Fratini dress she wore at her second wedding to Burton in 1975 ($62,500), the embroidered robe from “Cleopatra” by costume designer Irene Sharaff ($62,500) and a black velvet “Scorpio” cape by Tiziani that she wore to Princess Grace’s “Scorpio” ball in 1969 ($60,000.) Even Kim Kardashian couldn’t resist Liz-mania, purchasing three diamond bangles for $65,000.

Legendary fashion leader/industry consultant Fern Mallis, who attended the auction, said, “Vintage clothing is like buying art these days. It will only increase in value.” This is true not just of vintage clothing associated with celebrities, but all collectible vintage items (like the 60s guitar purse featured on Chelsea-Girl.com right now.)

There is nothing more awe-inspiring to me than standing in front of a great painting. I often frequent museums when I’m feeling down, because being in the presence of great art makes me feel better, and I always go on my birthday, when I treat myself to a day off and spend some time alone (like shopping, I think museum-going should be solitary.)

I stopped by MOMA on Monday to see the Diego Rivera and DeKooning exhibits, but as usual, I spent another hour viewing the permanent collection, which has always been my favorite. To be in the presence of Matisses, Picassos, Van Goghs, deChiricos, Miros, and Dalis is awesome enough, but to be in the presence of their *most* famous works is almost overwhelming.

I have a friend who won’t live more than a half-hour drive from a great museum, which is perfectly understandable to me. I feel grateful to live in a city where some of the world’s most beautiful art exists, and where I can drop in any time I feel like viewing them.

The bad news is written all over her face: we’ve also had a bit of a nightmare getting Elisa’s weight under control.  Probably the joy of being in love plus the stress of developing our new show have taken their toll and, well, you can see for yourself.  If you’re wondering why the second season of Girls Who Like Boys Who Like Boys moved to Nashville, frankly it’s because Sundance took one look at what has happened my poor Elisa and they decided it was easier to change cities then deal with the multitude of problems her sudden weight gain creates. Believe me, folks, I went to bat for her and stood up to the network.  I showed them pretty pictures of big boned gals we adore like Ann Wilson, Linda Ronstadt and Kathy Najimy, but I found those supposedly progressive executives implacable and unsympathetic.  Understandably, she is a bit self-conscious and she feels bad that she fucked up the Sundance thing, but I told her it’s not really her fault the executives at Sundance are haters.

Anyway, the really good news is that even as I type this, Elisa is at Canyon Ranch getting a handle on her issues and has already dropped two pounds! In the meanwhile, please join me in sending her your best wishes, (but please don’t send her anything edible.)  If our new show doesn’t get sold, there is always The Biggest Loser! – David