Joan

A good night includes Joan Rivers… and 80’s trannie club kids, sequins, cabaret numbers, gratis bubbly. Thanks, Michael Musto, for the book party (and 2-hour photo op). If only I could enlarge this picture so you could see just how fabulous Joan looks at the ripe ol’ age of __ (insert guess here).

She’s failed–daughter’s estrangement, husband’s suicide, canned talk shows, bankrupt business ventures–and she’s survived. I respect that. At least she stuck her neck out there and tried. Can you say the same? Can I?

“What?! Joan Rivers? I bet she was rude, am I right? Was it scary lookin’ that plastic surgery marvel in the eyes?” Mamma shrieked into the phone.

“No, she was very sweet and I respect her life stor–”

“The family’s not going to care about that. Now tell me about the collapsed nostrils and implants…”

Ah, yes, of course it’s about those cheekbones and that nose and the vast expanse of taught, creaseless skin. Say what you want, her neck looked beautiful to me.