The Addams Family


 

The Addams Family is the creation of American cartoonist Charles Addams. They are a bizarre family who delight in all things macabre and are never really aware of why people find them frightening.

Related Topics:
American - Cartoonist - Charles Addams

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Addams's cartoons in The New Yorker magazine gained popularity in the 1930s. Addams was noted for his morbid sense of humor, and over the years various bizarre people and creatures who lived in a huge decaying Second Empire house became recurring characters.

Related Topics:
The New Yorker - 1930s - Morbid sense of humor - Second Empire

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~ Table of Content ~

Introduction
Premise
Television and film
Cast
Trivia
External links

~ Community ~

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Ask Hadley on fringes and white suits

I am a thirtysomething brunette and increasingly tempted by the idea of a fringe. Is this a good idea, or will I end up looking like Dannii Minogue?Diane Sharpe, LondonPoor Minogue. Truly, the woman is like an entire Shakespearean cast in her own super-shrunken body: the jealousy, the bitterness, a life lived in the cold shadow of a more beloved sibling. She's not a celebrity, she's a psychological experiment. To quote Mugatu from the greatest ever film about fashion, Zoolander, we must not get distracted by the beautiful celebrities (for the moment anyway). Your point is wise, both in making the Minogue comparison, and in your desire to avoid it. I admit, I do love a fringe - on hair, that is, though I shall never understand fringing on items of clothing, which merely makes you look as if you need a wax, are wearing a merkin, or have a misguided liking for cowboy fashion. It's hard to say which of these three causes the most visual offence. There are two downsides to the style, though. For one, you always look the same: put your hair up, put your hair down - you have still got a fringe. And for those of us who have had a fringe since the dawn of time, with the exception of an unwise break in our early 20s, such uniformity, although reassuring, can occasionally feel a wee bit monotonous. But monotony is nothing compared to accusations of cheap Botox.I'm sure we all remember the charming name for the similarly charming tight ponytail. Oh come on, Guardian readers, admit it. You know we're all thinking it: "Croydon facelift". Well, the fringe now has similar connotations, albeit in a more upmarket context. Many a beauty editor has recommended getting a fringe as a pain-free, credit-crunch-friendly alternative to Botox (urgent note: this is just for the forehead - presumably you still need to get the cheeks, eyes, nose and neck done, otherwise you would resemble Cousin Itt from the Addams Family). It's actually not bad, as beauty editor's suggestions go, but it does tar all of us fringers with the same brush. Are we lunatics with a phobia of wrinkles, yet too cowardly to actually do anything medical about it? Or are we mere innocent fringe fans, who were once told by a callous hairdresser that a fringe was crucial because "your face needs softening"? A very different kettle of fish, I'm sure you'll agree.Back to your question specifically, Diane. I think at this point, it's too late. La Minoguette is now the highest profile befringed thirtysomething in the land: jumping on the bandwagon at this time will make everyone think you are an improbable fan. Instead, I recommend taking inspiration from a different D Minogue look: the punk one she so impressively worked as Emma Jackson, niece of the irreplace-able Ailsa on Home and Away back in the day. With the eyeliner of Marilyn Manson, pompadour of Amy Winehouse and acting ability of Andie MacDowell, it's no surprise we are still discussing her, nearly 20 years on. I have a white suit. I recently saw a shot of Brad Pitt in a white suit, looking dashing and splendid in a brown loafer. I have, however, fallen foul of this mistake before: it is not the shoe or the outfit that I'm taken in by, but the face of the man who wears it. I am also tempted by a brown leather brogue, spiv though it might be. Please advise.David, by emailI have included David's query in full because there are so many valuable components to be Onaddressed. First, big up for the use of the fashion singular: "A loafer", "a jean", "a trouser", "a stocking" - this is the proper way to describe all normally plural garments (garment?), although the jury remains out on whether the rule should be applied to pants: "a pant". Second, you should be congratulated for your open acknowledgement of the havoc celebrities wreak by wearing clothes. They should all be forced to go naked so that no one is misguidedly taken in. Finally, the word "spiv": no fashion lesson here, just enjoyment of the word's debut on this page. Tally-ho all round. But to your question. To be honest, David, I struggled to get to your question as my eyes were caught by your opening gambit. You have a white suit? Are you planning to write The Bonfire of the Vanities? Of course, you might be David Hockney, though it seems unlikely since he has probably perfected his coordinating footwear, after working the look for half a flipping century. If you really must wear the white suit, and I'm not wholly sure I approve of this, then I would recommend the spivvy brogue. Loafers are just too Mediterranean playboy. And anyway, as you say, Brad Pitt wears them. Spiv over Pitt any day of the week, and Sundays, too.FashionBeautyguardian.co.uk © Guardian News & Media Limited 2008 | Use of this content is subject to our Terms & Conditions | More Feeds

Nerd library to end all nerd libraries

Stephen Levy toured the personal library of Priceline founder Jay Walker and discovered nerdvana: a wunderkammer piled to the rafters with the most pricelessly awesome nerd artifacts of all time -- an original Sputnik, the Thing hand from the Addams Family, a globe of the moon signed by every astronaut who's walked on it, an original of Robert Hooke's Micrographia, an Enigma machine, etc. You know, I've often turned my nose up at the absurd excesses of wealth, but this is one guy who knows how to spend several million on really rad junk. Nothing quite prepares you for the culture shock of Jay Walker's library. You exit the austere parlor of his New England home and pass through a hallway into the bibliographic equivalent of a Disney ride. Stuffed with landmark tomes and eye-grabbing historical objects?on the walls, on tables, standing on the floor?the room occupies about 3,600 square feet on three mazelike levels. Is that a Sputnik? (Yes.) Hey, those books appear to be bound in rubies. (They are.) That edition of Chaucer ... is it a Kelmscott? (Natch.) Gee, that chandelier looks like the one in the James Bond flick Die Another Day. (Because it is.) No matter where you turn in this ziggurat, another treasure beckons you?a 1665 Bills of Mortality chronicle of London (you can track plague fatalities by week), the instruction manual for the Saturn V rocket (which launched the Apollo 11 capsule to the moon), a framed napkin from 1943 on which Franklin D. Roosevelt outlined his plan to win World War II. In no time, your mind is stretched like hot taffy. Browse the Artifacts of Geek History in Jay Walker's Library...