December 31, 2008
December 30, 2008
As did many people, I read the report that women may absorb up to five pounds of chemicals per year from makeup, so I decided to buy some organic lipstick. This required some research. Many people who care about organic products also are opposed to lipstick in any form. The website from which I eventually purchased the lipstick also contains this banner:
The company is run by lovely people who support admirable feminist causes, but, um… wrinkles? Will you also love your dropping eyelids, thinning undereye skin, sagging jawline, liver spots, and corded neck bands? (Seriously, think about old lady necks). Personally, I have a strong interest in using the best of science and capitalism to laser off, grind down, fill in, and otherwise eliminate wrinkles as soon as they attack.
Anyway, the lipsticks may be adding minutes to my lifespan, but they have lame-ass names.
Conventional lipstick names are not difficult. Start with one of these words:
Now add any other noun or adjective that is not unfeminine or gross. And you’ve made a lipstick! For example:
- Toffee Stunner
- La Vie en Rose
- Pink Reflection
- Perceptive Plum
- REDRUM (I’m sure you could work the word “shining” into the ad somewhere)
- Mulled Wine
- Oahu Coral
- Icicle Pink (icicles are not pink, but no one cares!)
- Winter Peach (there is no such thing!)
- Commie Pinko (I googled this — why has no one marketed this???)
My organic lipsticks look great, and they are free of several varieties of nasty. But they are named:
- Paint Me Open-Minded
- Paint Me Strong
- Paint Me Healed
Of course, they’re all like that.
Paint me unamused.
December 27, 2008
I have begun noticing that mothers in action films always seem to be portrayed as irrational, instinct-ruled shriekers who want to protect their children at all cost, but whose brains fly out the window in so doing.
I just saw The Dark Knight again, in which Commissioner Gordon’s wife cowers and shrieks as Two-Face holds a gun to her son’s head and sadistically demands that Commissioner Gordon “lie” to his son by saying that everything would be okay. No argument there: most people would shriek and cower. But then, when Batman rushes in and pushes everyone off the ledge, cape aflutter, she shrieks again. I think she yells “No!” Look, lady, he’s freaking BATMAN. He can FLY. He’s got your shit covered. Batman catches the kid, passes him to the Commissioner.
I am also reminded of the 1985 Harrison Ford film Witness. In the final showdown, again, a gunman threatens to kill the son of Ford’s Amish love interest. She shrieks. When Ford finally gets his hands on the kid, but the gunmen are still armed, Ford makes a speech, something like “How far is the violence going to go? You could kill me, her, all these people on the farm, this little boy” — and again, the stupid fucking Amish woman is like “No!” Apparently, once your uterus has housed a person, you no longer understand the need to be less than completely straightforward with a criminal you are trying to manipulate into not killing your children.
I’m not suggesting that characters who are supposed to be “regular people” should jump up and engage in hand-to-hand combat. I’m just thinking that lots of real-life women, even under duress, have the ability to take a cue from the person who is obviously trying to save them. And, more importantly, men in action movies are basically never portrayed in this way. Male “regular people” characters who are in danger (Coleman Reese in The Dark Night) usually sweat a lot and nervously play along — they’re always smart enough to play along.
Those are the only two examples I’ve got off the bat, but I feel certain I’ve seen this in many more movies. Can anyone else think of examples?
And now, to round out this post: Sarah Conner will kill you her own fucking self.
December 24, 2008
I’m in a Nine West commercial! Enjoy!
December 24, 2008
I’m glad that shirtless-Obama has finally set off a spate of scrutinizing the physiques of male leaders similar to the scrutiny that continually fell upon Hillary’s “cankles.” From now on, world leaders must have good abs.
December 23, 2008
From the Fifth Avenue Apple Store’s page on Apple.com:
If you can extend those hours, well … I’d like to see you extend a lot of things. (Or, er … I’ve got some time and space you can bend?)
December 22, 2008
Correction: What I look like when I stop blogging and display the most attractive angle of my cheekbones for the Photobooth application.
December 22, 2008
Jenisfamous reader Phineas, after attempting to post a comment, wrote the following in an email to me:
I just got rejected by your “Is fire hot or cold?” spam-thwarter. I answered, “yes.” I feel good about my answer; were Regis to ask me if I wanted to change it, I would respectfully decline. (He’s my elder, after all.) Nonetheless, I suspect that if I change my answer to “hot,” it will go through.
December 21, 2008
I am not free of the scourge of bad grammar even on the elliptical machine at the gym. Exhibit 1, this fitness magazine ad:
Women want in! To the freaking dictionary, apparently.
Exhibit 2, the closeup:
“Elicit” is a verb that means “prompt, bring forth.” “Illicit” is an adjective that means “illegal.”
Also, the last sentence has a real parallelism problem. Apparently, it should be noted that 1) it’s powerful, and 2) used with caution. It should be noted that used with caution.
Did Sarah Palin write this ad?
Retro Linkback: In 2005, I posted a picture of my college abs.
December 20, 2008
Heartbreaking (and adorable) photo!
Even cuter — the newlyweds’ names are both Brian. Prop 8 bastards.
December 18, 2008
Here’s a somewhat-belated birthday post. My mom asked me a couple months ago if there was anything special I might like as a gift. Sometimes, there are really specific domestic-type items that are just much easier to get in the suburbs, where the grocery stores are fantastically larger and always have every possible variety of Coke (Diet Half-Caf Cherry Clear!)
So one of the things I asked for was “Zip-Loc bags in every size!” Here is what I received:
Here is a partial list of items I have recently encased in Zip-Loc bags:
- half an avocado
- the jewelry I took off in the locker room at the gym
- teabags to put in my desk at my office
- comedy show flyers and two rolls of packing tape
- craft supplies intended as a charitable donation
- about a dozen cream eyeshadows that my mom has been sending at a far faster rate than my eyelids can absorb
We are a very organized family. When my mom decided I was old enough to keep track of my own birth certificate, I received it in a file folder, in a Zip-Loc bag.
December 17, 2008
I think I actually cribbed the idea of “Mr. Cuddly” from The Gap. I can’t say I buy their clothes, but I do like to curl up by the fire with their advertising.
Here is this year’s ad, currently all over New York. Note the wedding band. Note Jason Bateman’s daughter Francesca’s tiny, adorable foot covered in a tiny, adorable cuddly sock. And notice the carefully cultivated man-scruff! Is that man looking manly in purple cashmere? Awesome.
Here is last year’s ad, featuring John Krasinski. Not only does he look cuddly, he looks as though he has just cuddled. Men needs more scarves. And belt buckles that draw subtle attention to their manly parts.
Can The Gap just start selling actual men? Because I don’t wear khakis.
December 17, 2008
A hit-and-run post — here are some old modeling photos no one’s ever seen. This is from that time that at least 50 fashion-industry types (well, some of them extremely peripheral people like me) got scammed into doing this charity calendar that was never printed.
The other model is Jane Teng. It was never clear how a fashion calendar would raise money for charity.
December 15, 2008
You know, when you go inviting people to a Man-Pageant, you learn a lot about men.
Specifically, the men who send notice of their non-attendance because they feel threatened by the contestants, because they feel that their bodies would “scare people” if exposed, or because, simply, “that sounds castrating.”
Not that anyone’s feelings aren’t legitimate — it’s just that, whatever the female analog to that is, women simply aren’t supposed to mind. We are constantly surrounded by images of women way hotter than us, and we are supposed to just be cool with that. Think about what you would think about a woman who said she were staying home from an event because it involved hot women — would you find her insecure, neurotic, unadapted to reality? Maybe you are an awesome feminist and would find her to be an awesome feminist. It’s possible. But what would you actually think?
Virtually all forms of entertainment involve Sexy Ladies. Including, for instance, the opera. Can you imagine if, every time you proposed a form of entertainment that involved Sexy Ladies, the women you knew were like, “Eh, I don’t think that’s really for me. I’m not a Sexy Lady, therefore I cannot be around Sexy Ladies. That event makes my ovaries shrivel.” You know, like that one time when I was growing up that the Miss America Pageant came on TV and all the women in my family left the room because we didn’t want to be seen as lesbians.
Anyway, I like a party where the ladies are happy and the men are hired.
p.s. – Props to my BFF Molly, who listened to me talk about this over tea at my kitchen table and encouraged me to type this bitch up.
Update re: Best Response Ever: “Having made yourself a cougar legend I’m sure some young cougars will be willing to take up the work to a make a name for themselves too, and then you can just sit back and enjoy.”
December 12, 2008
I love getting an email from a French person and seeing that in the headers it’s marked “Importance: Haute.”