The web is ablaze over a French Vogue shoot that made 10-year-old model Thylane Blondeau look like an adult—face painted in thick make-up and feet clad in high heels as she sprawls out on a leopard-spotted couch. Should a child be donning this sexy look?
Redbook magazine editor in chief Stacy Morrison's new memoir, Falling Apart in One Piece (just out in bookstores), is a true confessional in every sense: Subtitled "One optimist's journey through the hell of divorce," the book begins just as Morrison's marriage begins to end. One minute she's swishing arugula through the salad spinner, and the next she's hearing her husband say, simply, that he's done. Here's her story.
Essence magazine's Reggie Bush cover has angered some readers who who question his interracial relationship.
Following the success of a book of six-word memoirs, SMITH magazine's Six-Word Memoirs On Love & Heartbreak By Writers Famous & Obscure (Harper Perennial) offers all the highs, lows and in-betweens that define matters of the heart in 130 pages-worth of six-word accounts. Here, a few favorites, which capture the humorous, happenstance and heartbreaking sides of the thing we call love.
Next week's New Yorker magazine explores the possible explanations behind this surprising statistic in an article titled "Red Sex, Blue Sex." For better or worse, Bristol Palin, Sarah's 17-year-old expectant daughter, has become the poster child for all that fails in the abstinence-only, virginity-pledge system. As the article points out, virginity pledge groups work only when participation is kept below 30 percent of a specific population. If too many girls join in the pledge at a high school, for example, it no longer is exclusive and cool, and the efficacy breaks down.
The author goes to work of a ladies magazine and learns a lot about living and a little about love. He finds out that it's not all red carpet invites, sex advice, and kinky pillow fights. But he does get some pretty good relationship advice and learns a thing or 2 about computer networking.
I once worked for a ladies magazine called Tango. And I only call it a ladies magazine because it was founded by a lady. And it was about love and relationships (not something most dudes read voluntarily, I suppose). And it was mostly staffed by ladies. I learned a lot about changing water cooler bottles, moving furniture, computer networking, you know, guy sh*t. It’s not to say that women can’t be really, really good at lifting stuff or making computers talk to each other, but I have a feeling that it was a kindness to me. Working for a ladies magazine, in their estimation, had to be emasculating enough for a young rascal from the dirty dirty living in New York.
