In Praise of ... Lovey Howell

You know who does not get enough love? Lovey Howell, that's who. When talk turns to Gilligan's Island (which admittedly only happens after you have exhausted every other thing in the whole world that there is to discuss), it's always about Ginger vs. Mary Ann. Oh, please, it's clearly Ginger. A beauty mark, sequins and cleavage, people. She wins — end of discussion. But back to my original point nobody gives props to Natalie Schafer's Lovey, who I bet was a real Ginger in her day. 


First off, does she know how to pack? There was such a lovely array of outfits: capri pants, the little fitted jackets and the parasol — oh, the parasol. Mrs. Howell was the luckiest lady on the island because she had her doting megabucks Thurston to keep her feet warm at night. I think that's why she was so blissfully serene, gaziing adoringly at him with Nancy Reagan eyes. It's like If Helen Gurley Brown and David Brown got trapped on an island with a bunch of random people, I'm pretty sure Helen would also mince and flounce about with a parasol and bat her faux eyelashes at her hubby. 


Lovey's love of clothing and luxury, knack at avoiding manual labor, and romantic marriage to a loving and devoted mogul, make her this week's Great Underestimated Fashionista of Fiction.