Bridgerton Season 3

Yes, there are Bridgerton rugs – and I may buy one

DG Creations, Lessons in Remodeling, Writing

Like so many, I’ve been riveted by the presidential campaign and the gender dynamics at play. I even planned to write about it when the DNC convention ended. But what to say after so many others have already weighed in on the topic?

So I moved on to another pressing issue: the heretofore unknown to me ubiquity of celeb-branded home decor. The aha moment came while shopping for a rug to adorn my new home office in the mid-mod house we are renovating.

When we repainted my current home office a while back, I meant to get a new rug to complement the freshly applied coat of periwinkle but instead put down an old rug to protect the hardwood floors in what was meant to be a temporary solution. Years later, it’s still there.

As we spiff up what we expect to be our forever home, I am determined not to repeat that mistake borne out of indecisiveness and misplaced thriftiness. So I resumed my search, soon toggling over to Ruggable, which has been bombarding me with social media ads for an eternity.

Maybe, I told myself, the rugs will actually look good.

As suspected given the many styles of rugs that have popped up in my social media feeds over the years, there are tons of options on the site. But what really got me were the sponsored collaborations: I’m talking Goop, the late style icon Iris Apfel, Jonathan Adler and even Bridgerton.

My first instinct was to roll my eyes at the choices, especially the Hollywood tie-in. My second: to click on the Bridgerton tile — only to discover some of the rugs actually look cute.

Reader, I might even buy one.

And yes, it seems silly to even contemplate such a thing. But what if I just like the pattern?

Rational, skeptical me would have scoffed at the notion of such a purchase 20 minutes earlier. But now I’m contemplating it, even as I ponder weighty follow-up questions such as: exactly how many Bridgerton licensing deals and tie-ins are there, anyway? What’s the weirdest one out there? And: How much money does Shonda Rhimes get for them?

The scope of licensing deals has become truly dazzling over the years: I remember loving a Jungle Book movie promotional record my grandparents gave us when I was a kid, though my company man father wasn’t as keen since they got it at a gas station rival to Arco, his employer. And I have tracked licensing deals and promo tie-ins as a journalist, first homing in on marketing activity related to VHS and DVD launches.

At least in those cases, there was an obvious connection to the merch: Today’s celeb and Hollywood endorsed goods run the gamut from food items to liquor and, yes, home improvement products.

Earlier in our renovation process, I was tickled by the existence of self-stick wallpaper from TV’s Property Brothers — and ended up purchasing it to line stained kitchen shelving for a similar reason I am contemplating a Bridgerton rug: I liked the pattern better than the other options in the store. But at least that product seemed more closely linked to the duo’s work – home improvement — than a line of rugs tied into a streaming show set during the Regency era.

Even after all my years covering showbiz – and vague awareness of promotional blitzes tied to Bridgerton — that surprised me. Turns out, Hollywood branding deals really are all around us.

More Bridgerton goods:

Petit Fours, teapots and blood orange mixer at Williams-Sonoma

Various goods from The Republic of Tea, available via World Market and elsewhere

Official coloring book via a collab with Random House

Netflix merch

Plus, my favorite home entertainment story, written for Variety: The death of VHS

The vicarious amusements of salmon sperm facials and other wacky Hollywood fitness and beauty fads

Writing
Rosalind Russell working out in The Women
Rosalind Russell goes through the motions in The Women

I’m endlessly fascinated with Hollywood heath and beauty rituals. Is that so wrong?

A million years ago when I was a fact-checker for TV Guide, then based on the outskirts of Philadelphia and arguably at the height of its influence, my co-workers and I used to marvel at how goofy West Coast publicists seemed compared to their East Coast counterparts. New York publicists would bark at us when we attempted to confirm information in those pre-Web days, while those in Burbank or nearby would happily root through their trash to help us when we could catch them on the phone due to time-difference constraints in that less-connected era.

Decades after I moved to L.A., I still feel like a stranger in a strange land upon occasion — especially regarding health and beauty regimens of Hollywood denizens.

Last week, still basking in the afterglow of the Summer Olympics, I caught up with the phenomenon of salmon sperm facials, apparently something that Jennifer Anniston advocated a year ago in a Wall Street Journal feature, and not actually a new trend, just new to me, thanks to Kim Kardashian talking about it in a recent episode of her family’s Hulu reality show and publications dutifully writing about it.

This line in an L.A. mag article about Kardashian’s use of the beauty treatment really amused me:

“The 43-year-old influencer didn’t go into details about how effective injecting milt, which is extracted from fish testicles, was for producing firmer skin.”

The story goes on to explain how the sperm is harvested, in case you were wondering. As for Aniston: “When it comes to looking young, she says she’ll try almost anything once,” per the WSJ.

Vintage Betty Boop cartoon with exercise belt

There have been many health and beauty fads popularized by Hollywood over the decades, some quite ludicrous in retrospect. Watch old movies on TCM and you might see women utilizing ridiculous (to my contemporary eyes) vibrating exercise belts that supposedly melt away fat, while other trends include “Can You Feel It” aerobics of the Jane Fonda era, Suzanne Somers’s Thighmaster device and so on. Decades before superheroes took over the multiplex, studios employed fitness trainers for their talent under contract; these days, Ryan Reynolds and Hugh Jackman banter about the latter’s training for Deadpool & Wolverine to the press, including for this Variety cover story.  

There’s undeniably a dark side to Hollywood’s obsession with a camera-ready appearance: Judy Garland was famously addicted to amphetamines by the time she finished filming The Wizard of Oz at age 17, all the better to keep her weight down.

Per just one story about it: “’Most of her teen and adult life, she had been on either Benzedrine or a diet or both,’ Garland’s third husband Sid Luft wrote in his memoir Judy and I: My Life With Judy Garland.”

These days, Ozeimpic is the rage, but if you peruse midcentury women’s magazines, as I recently did while researching period decor for a home renovation, you will come across celebrity-endorsement ads for Ayds “candies,” basically stimulants designed to encourage weight loss. I’m old enough to remember mothers of my friends using these diet aids growing up, but not the celeb endorsements of talent such as Yvonne De Carlo and Hedy Lamarr; I totally missed the mid-‘80s branding issue when people confused the weight loss candy with the similarly named AIDS.

Vintage ads on YouTube repeatedly stress that there are no stimulants in Ayds, and while that might have technically true when they were filmed, the diet reducing candy and others of its ilk contained phenylpropanolamine, a chemical that can be used to make speed that was removed from decongestants and other over the counter medicine due to the risk of stroke. In 1983, the maker of Dexatrim removed similar advertising claims about the safety of PPA, as the chemical is also known, in its diet aids. By 2000, the FDA asked drug manufacturers to stop using it for diet suppressants and decongestants.

Other practices have also been dubious to downright dangerous: Remember phen-fen? It was hugely popular as a weight loss aid a few decades ago, then recalled due to concerns it caused heart problems. And, as someone with a big scar on her leg from melanoma surgery, I wouldn’t recommend you pay heed to TikTokkers’ claims that sunscreen causes cancer or reality star Kristin Cavallari’s suggestion that maybe we don’t need it to guard against skin cancer. (Seriously, protect yourself better than I did as a teen!)

The average celeb-embraced health and beauty fad is relatively harmless, however. The casual observer might think some of the regimens are ridiculous – or that these well-compensated performers should spend their money elsewhere — but does it really matter that beauty-conscious A-listers are trying them? It’s not as if Hollywood itself doesn’t see the humor in some of these exercise and beauty fads, satirizing them in 1930s movies such as The Women and a Betty Boop short on through The Player, where the Hollywood execs retreat to Two Bunch Palms for a mud bath, then quite trendy.

The relatively low stakes of these treatments make it easier to gawk at them, or even consider trying them yourself – whether you take the Paoli local or drive the 405. Stars aren’t always like us, and that is part of the fascination.

More on Hollywood health and fitness:

This Business Insider article provides a broader overview: https://www.businessinsider.com/vintage-photos-exercise-trends-2019-1

Apple TV+’s Physical, starring Rose Byrne as a San Diego mom turned workout queen, channels the era well; it is period appropriate to the point I recall wearing a denim wrap-around skirt similar to the one Byrne’s frustrated Sheila dons in the series. Here’s a story I did about the audacity of Byrne’s frequently unlikable character for Variety.