Poor Lindsay Lohan just can't catch a break.
After traffic imbroglios, episodes of public intoxication to the point of unconsciousness and stints in rehab, her life's a train wreck rivaled only by Britney Spears. I get the feeling second place isn't a standing that sits well with Lindsay. Watch out Britney, she's gaining on you.
Back in January, she attended a birthday party for "shipping heir" Stavros Niarchos, a young man whose only occupation appears to be dating one troubled celebrity after another. A partial list includes Lindsay, Paris Hilton and that skinny-scary Olsen twin who dresses like a bag lady.
The party was at a place called 1Oak in Manhattan. Also in attendance was a young woman named Masha Markova, a student at Columbia University. Of course, when you're hobnobbing with camera fodder like Lindsay and Stavros, you pick your wardrobe very carefully. Forget the Gap pea coat. It's time to pull out Grandma's $11,000 blonde mink.
So little Masha sashayed in wearing Grandma's heirloom coat, checked it at the door and proceeded to party. At the end of the evening the coat was nowhere to be found. There's no report of her reaction, just that she went home never expecting to see the coat again. I wonder what she told Grandma. "Hello, Grams? Remember that coat you gave me? ..."
A few weeks later, Masha was thumbing through one of those tabloid magazines that delights in showing pictures of celebrities doing things like picking their noses and grocery shopping. There, in all her skeevy magnificence, was Lindsay Lohan, wearing Grandma's coat. A little more research revealed photos showing she had been wearing the coat all over town for the past few weeks.
Masha did what any red-blooded American would do: She called her lawyer. Who called the club and Lindsay's lawyer and before you could say, "I have Entertainment Tonight on Line 2" the coat was returned to its rightful owner, albeit a little worse for wear. It reeked of booze and cigarettes and there was a rip in the lining.
Masha has mentioned it might be nice if Lohan were to pay a rental fee for the three weeks she had the coat. Masha and her attorney think $10,000 would be fair. Oh, good grief.
One component seems to be missing from this cautionary tale. I think if $11,000 worth of anything belonging to me went missing, I'd be hollering loud and long for Sheriff Cronic to come and do something. Of course, if someone were to make off with that much of my stuff, it would involve a U-Haul and a couple of guys with strong backs. I'd be missing a freezer, a refrigerator and a whole passel of computer equipment. Throw in a couch, a red S-10 pickup and a roll-top desk, too.
In all of my Googling, I haven't read one mention of law enforcement's involvement in what's obviously a case of theft. Everything was treated as if it was one big misunderstanding. The Lohan camp has said that a member of Lindsay's entourage picked the coat up by mistake.
Oh, hey, that happens to me all the time. I go to an event and check my London Fog raincoat. At the end of the evening, my husband goes to the coat window and they hand him eight pounds of dead animal pelt with a champagne satin lining. It could happen to anyone. Except in my world it crosses my mind to say, "Excuse me, that's not the right coat."
In 2003, I took my daughter and some of her friends to see "Freaky Friday," a cute little Disney remake starring a teenaged Lindsay Lohan. At the time I was impressed and charmed by her talent.
Five years later, that talent's been eclipsed by her skanky escapades. She's become one of those obnoxious celebrities whose excesses and sense of entitlement know no bounds. What a waste. What a shame.
(Originally published May 16, 2008 in the Gainesville Times)
After traffic imbroglios, episodes of public intoxication to the point of unconsciousness and stints in rehab, her life's a train wreck rivaled only by Britney Spears. I get the feeling second place isn't a standing that sits well with Lindsay. Watch out Britney, she's gaining on you.
Back in January, she attended a birthday party for "shipping heir" Stavros Niarchos, a young man whose only occupation appears to be dating one troubled celebrity after another. A partial list includes Lindsay, Paris Hilton and that skinny-scary Olsen twin who dresses like a bag lady.
The party was at a place called 1Oak in Manhattan. Also in attendance was a young woman named Masha Markova, a student at Columbia University. Of course, when you're hobnobbing with camera fodder like Lindsay and Stavros, you pick your wardrobe very carefully. Forget the Gap pea coat. It's time to pull out Grandma's $11,000 blonde mink.
So little Masha sashayed in wearing Grandma's heirloom coat, checked it at the door and proceeded to party. At the end of the evening the coat was nowhere to be found. There's no report of her reaction, just that she went home never expecting to see the coat again. I wonder what she told Grandma. "Hello, Grams? Remember that coat you gave me? ..."
A few weeks later, Masha was thumbing through one of those tabloid magazines that delights in showing pictures of celebrities doing things like picking their noses and grocery shopping. There, in all her skeevy magnificence, was Lindsay Lohan, wearing Grandma's coat. A little more research revealed photos showing she had been wearing the coat all over town for the past few weeks.
Masha did what any red-blooded American would do: She called her lawyer. Who called the club and Lindsay's lawyer and before you could say, "I have Entertainment Tonight on Line 2" the coat was returned to its rightful owner, albeit a little worse for wear. It reeked of booze and cigarettes and there was a rip in the lining.
Masha has mentioned it might be nice if Lohan were to pay a rental fee for the three weeks she had the coat. Masha and her attorney think $10,000 would be fair. Oh, good grief.
One component seems to be missing from this cautionary tale. I think if $11,000 worth of anything belonging to me went missing, I'd be hollering loud and long for Sheriff Cronic to come and do something. Of course, if someone were to make off with that much of my stuff, it would involve a U-Haul and a couple of guys with strong backs. I'd be missing a freezer, a refrigerator and a whole passel of computer equipment. Throw in a couch, a red S-10 pickup and a roll-top desk, too.
In all of my Googling, I haven't read one mention of law enforcement's involvement in what's obviously a case of theft. Everything was treated as if it was one big misunderstanding. The Lohan camp has said that a member of Lindsay's entourage picked the coat up by mistake.
Oh, hey, that happens to me all the time. I go to an event and check my London Fog raincoat. At the end of the evening, my husband goes to the coat window and they hand him eight pounds of dead animal pelt with a champagne satin lining. It could happen to anyone. Except in my world it crosses my mind to say, "Excuse me, that's not the right coat."
In 2003, I took my daughter and some of her friends to see "Freaky Friday," a cute little Disney remake starring a teenaged Lindsay Lohan. At the time I was impressed and charmed by her talent.
Five years later, that talent's been eclipsed by her skanky escapades. She's become one of those obnoxious celebrities whose excesses and sense of entitlement know no bounds. What a waste. What a shame.
(Originally published May 16, 2008 in the Gainesville Times)
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