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INSIDE OUT / NOTES FROM THE STYLE FRONT

At Least She's Out of High School

June 04, 1993|DEBRA GENDEL | SPECIAL TO THE TIMES

Who hasn't dreamed of what it would feel like to be SuperModel of the World? Certainly Monica Ferguson has. Saturday, the 23-year-old will compete in the regional SuperModel of the World contest at Los Cerritos Center. "I look at pictures of models in magazines," says the 5-foot-10 brunette, "and I think, 'Hey, I can do that.' "

Why don't we let modeling agency doyenne and SuperModel judge Eileen Ford decide? "I'm a very good eliminator," says Ford, whose Ford Models Inc. co-sponsors the contest. She also has a discerning eye. "Yesterday, I saw a young girl who took my breath away," she says. "She had wonderful eyes and a beautiful neck." However, the girl was still in high school and Ford, who represents Vendela, Christy Turlington and Rachel Hunter, is tired of playing surrogate mother/disciplinarian to pubescent beauties. "They hate their mothers and they hate you."

Speaking of moms, Ford says she's never seen as many of them backstage with their modeling daughters as she did in Europe this season. "It's probably not a bad idea," she muses. "There are a lot of bad sides to Paris and Milan." Things haven't particularly worsened in either city, she says, it's just that "the girls have never been so young."

For her part, Ferguson is amused by the thought that at 23, she is "over the hill" or, at any rate, probably the oldest SuperModel semifinalist at the mall tomorrow. On that basis alone, we'll be rooting for her.

Girl Talk: Trisha Yearwood, the 28-year-old country singer who broke through in 1991 with "She's in Love With the Boy," is the newest Revlon girl. "That was not one of the things I thought would happen in my career," she said. Nor, frankly, did we. Past Revlon girls have included knockouts like Jerry Hall, Brooke Shields and Lauren Hutton (who just signed on with Revlon again). Yearwood is blessed with talent and great demographics. She also seems to be part of a trend we'll call Spokesmodels That Make You Go, Huh? At the top of the newly inaugurated list is Drew Barrymore, who made her debut recently as the newest Guess girl.

The Guess Girl, the Revlon Girl, the It Girl, the Goodby Girl, That Girl, China Girl, Singapore Girl, Rich Girl, Uptown Girl, Bad Girl, Sad Girl, Mad Girl . . . where will it end? Just call us Annoyed and Grumpy Girl.

Court Appearance: The trial in Freud scholar Jeffrey Masson's $7.5-million libel suit against New Yorker writer Janet Malcolm has been a study in style contrasts. On one recent day, a pale, spectacled Malcolm, appeared in court, her brown hair a bit mussed, her black skirt and hose clashing with brown suede pumps. "She doesn't have a great presence," her attorney, Gary Bostwick, had told the jury earlier in the proceedings. No kidding. Malcolm's balding editor and husband, Gardner Botsford, wore tan slacks, matching jacket and an unremarkable tie.

Contrast that with a tanned and fit Masson, his wavy, salt-and-pepper locks a bit long, dressed in deep blue corduroy slacks, a forest green, herringbone jacket, a crisp white shirt and sporty Topsiders. The hair of Masson's fiance, noted feminist scholar Catherine MacKinnon, reached the waist of her oversized white sweater, worn with dark silky slacks and short black boots. TV movie anyone?

Ode to Summer: A glove compartment can get pretty toasty on a scorching San Fernando Valley day. And, as everybody knows, that's where Valley girls stash their makeup. Thank God, then, for a climate-controlled cosmetics bag called On the Rocks. The $39 vinyl pouch keeps things cool with two "freezer bars"--channeled plastic packets of water you freeze, then tuck into special Velcro pockets. "No More Melted Lipstick!" promises an ad. No more melted Hershey bars, we thought.

Store Notes: The Summer of Love may be upon us, but the clothes to match don't appear headed into anyone's closets any time soon. We were amazed to see rack after bulging rack of gauzy, ethnic-printed separates, crocheted bras, striped skinny shirts, laced-up dresses and tops--the whole hippie clothing credo--all marked way, way down at our neighborhood department store this week. Interestingly, this is the same store whose flagship, on the very day of our visit, announced a complex and costly cable television arrangement. Maybe the stuff will look better on TV . . .

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