I have to confess that there are times in life that I find myself overly susceptible to the influence of magazines. Those headlines scream at me like sirens calling sailors to the rocks. I want to be beautiful! I want to save money! I want to be organized! I want amazing shoes,sparkly colors, a mini-makeover. I want to look sexy for less. The clothes, recipes and advice all seem specifically gauged for me. I can catch up on best-selling books, new music and the personal life of film icons whose lives have never been of interest to me. Thanks to the interests and pursuits of my daughters, names that once had no meaning to me, now spring off the pages. Louis Vuitton, Gucci, Armani, Salvatore Ferragamo, Donna Karan, these are the stars. They gather in a constellation on the Avenue des Champs-Élysées Champs, on Fifth Avenue and in the pages of my magazines. Generally, my affinity for glossy covers and screaming promises of youth and beauty surfaces after surgeries and grave illnesses. However, today, I have turned to them for no other reason than I want light diversion. I can not seem to summon it in any other way. So, next time you see me, you may notice that I look younger, renewed, relaxed and, well......fabulous.