I don’t know about you, but I can’t get enough of Mad Men. It makes me miss my Film Theory classes in college. So many layers, so many fabulous sets and so many divine dresses. Oh my, the clothes!
Mad Men is one of those great shows that do not necessarily gets a lot of watercooler action in real life, (I mean, who has time to stand around at work?) But hooboy! thank heavens for the Internet where I can talk about the show in great detail to my heart’s desire.
There is a great convo about last night’s episode with the oh so dry Richard Lawson–he’s so clever and his fellow writer Stefanie Lee for a little he said, she said take on the show.
Of course a Mad Men convo cannot be had without a nod to TiLo’s great blog and their terrific write ups that they post every Monday. And let’s not forget TelevisionWithoutPity’s always deliciously hilarious if not slightly snarky write-ups.
Another great fansite is Basketful of Kisses–a sweet nod to the first season when Don saw Peggy’s gift of creative describing a wastepaper basket filled with women’s lipstick prints on paper.
I love that Sew Retro is even doing a whole month on the show, asking its participants to get into the Mad Men spirit by making clothes from the era. I love this Joan dress! Heck, I love Joan!
There is also AMC’s great MadMen site where they have left no marketing stone unturned–from sixties cocktails to Banana Republic helping bring buzz to this show. And let’s not forget the amazing MadMen cartoon that has taken over almost every Facebook profile for at least a day. Well played, AMC marketers, well played…
Apologies for writing about it a day late, but I can’t stay until 11:00PM on a week night with a baby!
Speaking of babies…Spoiler alert…
What was with Betty’s dreams? And why is Don so quick to wipe Betty’s father out of the picture. And is it just me, or is little Pete becoming something of a worthy fellow. And they are slowly bringing race into the episodes.
I have been told that the show is certainly real to the early sixties. My parents can’t watch it because it cuts too close to the bone. My parents were about the age of Peggy. I forget how far we’ve come. And sometimes not far enough.