I’m 50 percent on strike. Meaning, half of my career, as a Vogue writer, I am merrily continuing with. The other half, as a screenwriter adapting my novel, The Debutante Divorcée, for HBO, is kaput, for now. Amy Harris, a television writer who lives on my block in GreenwichVillage, reminds me
that “We gotta go picket!” In a way, I am excited at the prospect—I’ve never
protested before.What do you do? Blow whistles like the French? Throw eggs
like the Welsh miners? And what on earth does a Voguette wear to a picket?
The fact that she actually believes that her opinion should be taken
seriously on any level is appalling. Her naivete is so overt that she probably
has no idea the cause of the strike. Any idea of fashion connected to this cause
is absurd and she is a disgrace to both professions. As a member of both AFTRA and the Screen Actor's Guild (SAG), I am embarrassed that she was a must-join for a guild of which I am affiliated and as a professional and studied actress/artist and guild member, I wholly support. I am extremely offended by her comments and are grateful to those who condemned her comments on their website. Her ingenuousness as an artist/writer of any sort is glaring, making anyone not want to read her book or screenplay. Go back to lunching on your husband's dime, Ms. Sykes.