
Hosted by Hal Rubenstein · EN

I don't know about you, but I find Andy Cohen irritating. Who the hell smiles that much? It doesn't matter whether he's standing in Times Square, freezing his butt off on New Year's Eve. Sitting in the middle of a dozen freshly tucked, cleavage bearing women, talking and tossing trash on Real Housewives reunions, or fairly bouncing out of his host chair on Watch What Happens, baiting Hillary Clinton to diss Ted Cruz, playing ‘Never Have I Ever ‘with Mary J. Blige, or gushing over his buddy Sarah Jessica Parker's new boots. There is that ubiquitous, shit-eating, yet absolutely irresistible grin. Why is this man so fucking happy all the time? Why? Because Andy Cohen is living his life and loving every minute of it. Producer, talent scout, entrepreneur, talk show and podcast host, best-selling author, gay activist, Father Confessor to Bravo's ever-growing coast-to-coast, Our Lady of Restylane congregation and real life father of two, no one works harder at being cheeky, impish, charming, and omnipresent than Andy Cohen. And though he's been in broadcasting for over three decades, the youthful looking 57-year-old's not slowing down. The world of reality television is tricky because it looks easier than it is, because it often zeroes in on people behaving badly, because it gets dismissed as pandering, coarse, trashy, staged. Cohen laughs it off, remaining its most fervent cheerleader and champion, satisfied in knowing that his version of it entertains millions, that it's fun, and that it's harmless, no matter what Gloria Steinem thinks. Plus it makes you forget your own tsuris, if only for an hour. And no one is better at creating and sustaining it than today's Happy Grownup guest. But unlike most of his previous, numerous interviews, I am are not going to focus on Aviva throwing her prosthetic leg, Teresa turning over the table, or Angie vomiting on the yacht. This Happy Grownup hour is going to be all about Andy Cohen.

The Happy Grownup came about because while I knew the years were flying (at this stage, Time is driving a McLaren like an F1 qualifier) but I couldn’t understand why I didn’t look or feel like I thought I would at this age. I mean, yeah, the mirror made it clear that I was on a bridge way too far from 37, (my perfect imagined age), but rather than taunting me, it agreed with me. I looked damned good! Then why I didn’t see people like myself on TV or in print ads? Instead, we only showed up to illustrate erectile dysfunction, to try on Depends, and to buy reverse mortgages. The marketplace didn’t appear eager to satisfy my taste and reap my cash, even though I’m more likely to afford the luxuriant car, the vicuna coat, the African safari, and the $300 anti-aging cream. Was I the only one who felt attention must be paid? I am so glad I found Sari Botton. Thanks to her Oldster newsletter, I know I am not alone. This intrepid and insightful journalist, essayist, and best-selling author, who was recently featured in a beautiful profile in the New York Times, has created a platform that, like Grownup, spotlights, welcomes, and encourages writers, personalities, and anyone with focus and self-determination a place to celebrate all of us who still believe we have more to see, more to enjoy, and more to do. Oldster, which Sari began in 2021, is now published four times a week as a much-needed forum for every New Ager who wants to know more about what is and isn’t possible to share ideas, reveal challenges, and find a way forward. This past February, I had the pleasure of taking the Oldster questionnaire, which is way more intense than either Vanity Fair’s or Stephen Colbert’s. And it was a delight to share and compare my observations with such previous questionnaire guests as John Irving and Rosie O’Donnell. I don’t have a questionnaire to give out. So that’s why I asked Sari Botton to join me today so that we can celebrate, pontificate, agitate and instigate how to enjoy growing older together.

I have had a crush on Vanessa Williams for…oh, a little over 40 years. I know this sounds astounding now, but back in the ‘80s over 55 million people watched the Miss America pageant and my family never missed it. It was like this well-dressed, benign version of Survivor all in one night: parading beautiful young women, each representing their home state, vying for lucrative college scholarships. But in order to do so, they had to wear gowns, strut around the stage in high heels and a bathing suit and answer pontificatingly inane questions that somehow always ended up in hoping for world peace. But it was the talent portion that really fascinated me. There were ladies playing piano, playing marimba, accordion, even the cups, monologues from plays, tap dancing, baton twirlers, fire dances, women walking on glass. Two of my favorites were Miss America 1961, Nancy Ann Fleming, her talent was she showed several different ways to pack a suitcase for the weekend, and Vonda Kay Van Dyke, Miss America 1965, who was not a half bad ventriloquist. But rarely was there someone with any real talent. And then in 1984, Miss New York State, this stunning 20-year-old Black American woman sang a version of Happy Days Are Here Again with an arrangement similar to Barbra Streisand’s groundbreaking interpretation of the song. She was goddamn good! Like, Broadway-bound good! And that’s how Vanessa Williams became Miss America in 1984. She was smart. She had poise. Her politics was startlingly aligned with the way young America thought. And it turns out she was incredibly tough. That toughness has led Vanessa to more comebacks than most people get in a lifetime, except she never calls them a comeback because to her, she never actually went away. She’s had a bestselling book. She has had top records. She’s been on Broadway and Into the Woods and Kiss of the Spider Woman. I see her in everything. We loved her on Desperate Housewives. We loved her even more on Ugly Betty. She’s sung at the Super Bowl. She’s sung at the Oscars. When people ask you what’s one of my favorite holiday memories, I tell them I went Christmas shopping with Vanessa Williams because that’s how I did my Egg magazine interview with her. Vanessa is now the toast of London. where she is starring in Elton John’s smash hit musical adaptation of The Devil Wears Prada, which may never get to New York because the damn thing just keeps getting extended. And now I have saved the best for last because she is with me here on The Happy Grownup and I couldn’t be more delighted.

Why do I love talking to Dana Thomas? Because she knows more about fashion than just about anybody but doesn’t ever gush about clothes with inane commentary like, “She’s killing it!” “Now that’s red carpet realness!,” or “I die!” Instead Dana is refreshing and candid. She can reveal the elusive way designers instigate desire, explain how a growing trend gets marketed, highlight the industry’s influence on our everyday lives, and tell you why looking good matters more than any of us wants to admit. With pragmatic and witty insight, Dana fascinates when analyzing the times fashion’s designers, editors, execs, retailers and consumers work together in harmony as well as when they explode in clashing dissonance. I could talk to her for days.

Why do Oprah Winfrey, Jennifer Lopez, David Beckham, Eva Longoria, Justin Bieber, Kim Kardashian, Cindy Crawford, Naomi Campbell, Michelle Pfeiffer, as well as tens of millions of women and men who want to look in the mirror and smile at their own reflection, adore Anastasia Soare? Because 25 years ago, this lovely, poised, and determined Romanian émigré came to Los Angeles not able to speak the language, but knowing something the rest of us didn't, that shaping one's eyebrows could dramatically, sometimes breathtakingly, enhance one's appearance in 10 minutes. Oh, everyone knows that now. But that's because Anastasia Soare showed them how it's done. And that's why her brand, AnastasiaBeverly Hills, is a multi-billion dollar global beauty phenomenon. And that's why she has gotten used to being called the undisputed queen of brows. But that's not the only reason why I adore Anastasia. In fact, when we launched The Happy Grown Up a year ago, I was thrilled to have her as one of my first guests. I've known the lady for over 20 years, and yet for all of her facial wizardry, the reason why I find her so irresistible is her unflagging self-possession, her resolute belief in her own vision, her commitment to her mission, her insatiable curiosity to know more, to share more, and to relentlessly convince us that everyone is blessed not only with their own individual stamp of beauty, but with the power to fulfill their fondest dreams. And today, I welcome Anastasia back to The Happy Grown-Up because she has chronicled her story, her incredible drive, and her uplifting spirit in print. Her new book, Raising Brows, has become an instant bestseller, not just because Oprah christened it as a revelation and a joy to read, but it's also because her pursuit of innovation and self-satisfaction is a memoir so inspirational that it makes you question why you would ever doubt going for your own dreams. Her message is simple and clear. Go for it. Full throttle. Never take your eyes off the prize. Never doubt yourself or be stifled by doubters. And always know that tomorrow gives you another day to make your life better. Raising Brows is a book that insists that happiness thrives when you are the biggest cheerleader of your own life. So I just had to have her here. Welcome Anastasia back because with all the chatter and nonsense crashing around us. We need her positivity and joyful noise more than ever.

To the people who work for her, Cathy Hughes is known as the Queen, Her Majesty, or simply Miss. H.You may not recognize her name, but there’s a damn good chance you have connected with at least one channel of the extraordinary communications corporation that she founded 45 years ago. Starting with one lone radio station in Washington, D.C., Miss Hughes soon expanded her reach with an insinuating late-night format that instantly became the soundtrack for millions of us during the ‘70s when we wanted to turn the lights down low. The Quiet Storm featured nonstop R&B and soul music by artists like Marvin Gaye, Luther Vandross, and Teddy Pendergrass at their most sultry and hip-grinding best. Spurred by that success, Hughes founded Radio One, now renamed Urban One, which commands over 60 radio and television stations across the United States, the most prominent distributor of lifestyle information and music content for African Americans and people of color. In 1999, Ms. Hughes became the first woman of color to take her company public. She is an inspiring entrepreneur, educator, musical visionary, force for social good, and a paramount example of self-reliance, resilience, and guts. Our Happy Grownup friend, Aaron Walton says that Kathy’s energy is so constant and formidable that she can make you feel like the laziest person on earth. So with the risk of falling into that demoralized state, I am delighted to welcome this cultural powerhouse, Miss Cathy Hughes.

From the first time I ever saw Jerry Mitchell in the 1991 musical Will Rogers Follies – he was the Indian of the Dawn, barely dressed in a loincloth on an elevated drum – there’s been one through line in his career as a Tony-winning choreographer for Hairspray, The Full Monty, Rocky Horror Picture Show, Dirty Rotten Scoundrels, La Cage aux Folles, and then as a Tony-winning director-choreographer for Legally Blonde, Kinky Boots, On Your Feet!, Pretty Woman, Boop!, and the musical adaptation of The Devil Wears Prada that’s now playing in London. Every single one of them, without exception, has been designed to make you happy. Actually, not just happy – you’re supposed to walk out of the theater joyful. Jerry has taken this mission upon himself, like Evillene says in The Wiz, “don’t bring me no bad news.” This week on the podcast we’ll find out the reason he has such an obsession with making everyone so goddam happy.

I will forever be indebted to today’s guest. In fact, because of Winnie Holzman’s startling talent, I have been changed for good. Because on no less than four distinct occasions, her enviable ear for the nuances of speech and behavior have crafted stories that have left me drop-jawed, moved, and entertained. First, Winnie was one of the writers of thirtysomething, one of the few TV series that has ever gotten as deeply under the skin of my generation. If you match the ages of the cast, you watched this show swearing Winnie had been hiding under your bed, eavesdropping on all your dates, arguments, and therapy sessions as you tried to navigate your life and loves during what I found to be my most complicated decade. Then, though My So-Called Life lasted only 19 episodes, no TV series has ever nailed teenage yearning as aptly. Those years propelled by angst and the desperate quest for happiness, colliding with feelings of rebellion, insecurity generated by the need to be noticed, and of course, non-stop sexual frustration and confusion. 30 years later, my so-called life remains eerily valid. You can catch it on Hulu. You really should. Finally, and most gloriously, Winnie Holzman has dominated our holiday season for two years running because she not only wrote the book to that little musical that will never close called Wicked, but she and Dana Fox adapted Gregory Maguire’s novel to co-author the screenplays to the first film and its sequel. Combined, they are a glorious testimony to the power of friendship, individuality, and the magic that happens when you defy gravity. Right now, Winnie Holzman doesn’t need Glinda’s help to be popular, which is why I am over the rainbow to have her here on The Happy Grownup.

Maybe the only person I know who loves movies more than me is Dave Karger, the host of Turner Classic Movies. His knowledge of film first surfaced as film savant for Entertainment Weekly and is now featured in his most recent book 50 Oscar Nights (Running Press, 2024). If you love movies, whether you watch them on the big screen in the dark (where you should be) or on the small screen from your couch (where probably are) you will relish Karger’s enthusiasm, insight and wit for movies both past and present. If you can recall, and have watched, such gems like Some Like it Hot, Gilda, Laura, and All About Eve, you are in for a treat. If you can’t, Karger will make you want to watch them after you hear him.

I’ve always thought that eating is the most fun you can have with your clothes on. Well, it’s not so bad with your clothes off either. But for as much as I’ve enjoyed and I’m grateful for a career writing about both food and fashion, food does something that fashion doesn’t. It engages all of your senses. I’ve never understood anyone who just eats to live. I mean, like, what’s wrong with you? For me, having a passion for what sustains and soothes us is just one of life’s great delights.And there is no one, absolutely no one, who writes about this big love with more relish, passion, warmth, insight, and more consistent and healing joy than Ruth Reichl. Though Ruth is probably best known to many as the former legendary and mysteriously dressed restaurant critic for the New York Times, and later as the editor-in-chief of Gourmet magazine. You have to read Ruth when she is writing just feet from her kitchen or strolling through a green market to be swept away by her unabashed delight being inspired by the sight of a ruby red rhubarb or chopping up her own steak to make hamburger meat.It’s not just that her writing makes you hungry. She reminds you of the wonder of nature, of the incredible alchemy of cooking, of the immediate satisfaction of creating something delicious and then the magic that happens when you share it with others. Reading Comfort Me With Apples, Garlic and Sapphires, and Tender at the Bone. Damn, I even love the book titles. You can’t help but be seduced by her into believing that food is an endless and uplifting adventure. And if it results in any longing, it’s only because you are not sitting at her table when she serves you her carbonara. I am just tickled that she is here with me this week.