Black Butterfly: Model Muses at the Metropolitan Museum

I've decided that if we get a do-over, I want to come back a supermodel. Not the anonymous coat hangers from places like the Czech Republic or Estonia, but the genetically blessed creatures who by virtue of their abundant pulchritude wound up retired by 30, married to moguls and millionaires, and staring at trunks of the best couture threads, from Azzedine Alaia to vintage Versace.

You know them on a first-name basis: Naomi, Christy, Linda, Cindy...

The "Model as Muse" exhibit closed this past weekend at the Metropolitan Museum of Art's Costume Institute. I swung by for a second time to take a good look at the dizzyingly beautiful show, which included well-curated rooms devoted to decades in fashion and modeling from the 1920s on.

Archival issues of Vogue were flung open to memorable images by lensmen, including Peter Lindbergh, Herb Ritts, Irving Penn, and Richard Avedon. In some instances, looks worn on the page were featured on mannequins arranged on plateaus.

You would have recognized looks from George Michael's "Freedom" video in the '80s room, and pieces from Marc Jacobs's infamous Perry Ellis collection in the grunge room. G.M. and Nirvana pounded from the speakers in the corresponding spaces; it was perfect, if obvious.


But I gravitated to the pioneering black models, some of whom I admittedly had only passing familiarity with: Naomi Sims, who died at 61 just days before the exhibit ended and covered the Oct. 1969 issue of LIFE; Donyale Luna (left), who was cast in William Klein's Qui-Etes Vous, Polly Magoo? (1966) and landed a 1964 cover of British Vogue.

If you missed this show, you can always grab the catalog at the gift shop. Or the souvenir Marc Jacobs lipstick tube pens!

A Midsummer's To-Do List

If you live along the Northeast coast, you've been suffering perhaps through the summer that wasn't. With August in sight though it seems futile to keep fighting the elements. Better to embrace the cool afternoons and breezy mornings.

Why don't you:

1. Behold a Masterpiece. Sit on the steps of the Met after studying the heiroglyphs carved across pieces in the museum's expansive collection of Egyptian art.




2. Salute the Sun. Enroll in a local yoga class, dance course, gym, taking advantage of any introductory offers by going as frequently as you can in the first week.

3. Discover and Download. Underappreciated music. Erykah Badu's 2003 Worldwide Underground is an EP composed to get her through a spell of writer's block. But it has gems ("I Want You", "Back in the Day") and her hand-scribbled liner notes are bound to move you.

4. Put Your Fruit in Your Mouth. For a few consecutive days, I dare you to try eating 4-6 varied fresh fruits (not dried or canned) for breakfast and lunch. Thank me later.

5. Recall the worst or most regrettable thing you did in the last month. Forgive yourself for it today - and forever.



6. Go to an outdoor concert and Rock That Thing - literally. I've been to so many shows, rhythm & blues specifically, where I'm pleased and astonished by how folks step out. Talkin' Sunday best here. I'm convinced they have an even better time than I do.

7. Make it a Current Affair. Lie in the park or just perch on your porch to read an article about a subject that challenges you. The Economist is a treasure trove; The New Yorker is good too. All done? Read a book and finish it.

8. Turn the Dial. "I Can't Live (If Living is Without You)." It took me forever to register that the message in Mariah's track was absurd and downright unhealthy. Rid your iPod of love song cliches that celebrate the long-suffering man/woman.

9. Get the Scoop. Order an ice cream with every topping you can fit on it, calories be damned for one night.

10. Admit Your Blue Crush. There's something so rejuvenating about being by the water. Go to the beach, the pool, the shore, jump in or just get your feet wet.

11. Now that it's Raining More Than Ever...On a gloomy day, go out for for drinks where the menu is festive: sangria, pina coladas, margaritas, whatever. If they've tossed an umbrella in it, even better.

12. It's not About the Bike. It's just about learning to do something you never got around to: learn to swim, play aooustic guitar, ride a bike, cook three must-eat dishes...