The drugs don't work

The sun's gone dim, the moon's turned black; for I loved him and he didn't love back.

Whole Foods Riot!

Not really (obviously). The computer system went down at a packed P Street Whole Foods tonight and, despite lines reaching the ends of long aisles, the well-groomed, pram-pushing, yoga mat-toting customers just sighed, avoided eye contact with anyone and paged through Body + Soul. Except for the lady in front of me, of course, who had to baby-talk to her infant son for twenty solid minutes. The system was only down for ten minutes - the extra ten was for the lady in front of her, who chose to pay with a check. I felt really bad for the poor kid ringing us up, who was a trainee and clearly having a minor breakdown by the time I got to him.

Skin deep

For want of anything better, this morning I read Marie Claire at the gym. When I was eleven and living in Canada I had to sell magazine subscriptions for a school fundraiser, and one of them was Marie Claire. I don't think it had broken the American market yet. So I sort of had this weird soft spot for it. Not any more.

It's awful! I know I shouldn't pick on MC over Glamour, Vogue, Bazaar, Elle and my personal pet hate, Allure, but I'm going to anyway, because aside from Glamour I won't even pick any of the others up anymore, and now MC joins those ranks. (Glamour is still okay because somehow they are able to combine interesting serious stories and health advice with hair and makeup tips. I know that's what the others are trying for - except for Bazaar, which has stopped trying to use words altogether - but the rest of them fail.)

In this month's issue, focused on holiday makeup, hair and clothes, the makeover of the month was for this girl who had recently lost 40 pounds and didn't know how to dress as her new skinny self. I expected to see some nice form-fitting jeans, pants, tops and dresses, in order to allow her to show off her new looks more confidently. Instead they dressed her as though she had never lost any weight. This girl was maybe a size 8 and they were dressing her like she was still 40 pounds heavier, in sack dresses (that are 'so forgiving'), high-waisted pants (I know they're in right now but they are wildly unflattering on short women, and if you have newly thin legs why not showcase them?) and empire-waisted skirts (ditto for the newly slender midsection). Nothing flattered her, she looked better in the boring top and bootleg jeans she wore to the meeting, and I was sad that a magazine allowed itself to follow ugly trends rather than something that might actually make the girl feel good and stylish.


Moving on to holiday hairstyles, I've noticed recently that lots of stylists are recommending 'texturising' sprays and cremes - one even said that the 'secret' to Kate Moss's bedhead is hard London water. I've lived in London, and it's true: my hair does feel less smooth and soft there. But why do you want that? What is wrong with shiny clean soft hair? I agree that the Europeans have it right in not washing their hair all the time - it does dry it out, and removes good oils from your scalp. But I have naturally shiny hair, and I work out every day (and perspire while doing so), so I have to wash it daily. And for the most part, it looks good. When I live in England I am always one of the larger-sized women (I'm a size 10 here, which is a 12 there, which is considered plus-sized), but I know that I at least look healthy, because I don't smoke, have clear skin (usually), and shiny hair. English people have sort of mocked my hair, skin and (unstraightened, unbleached) teeth as being 'Shiny Happy American,' but I think that that is something to celebrate (and normally I can't find too many reasons to celebrate my nationality). I know some very attractive English people - but their attractiveness is much different from that of a fresh-faced North American.

We have this great thing about us here on this continent - we are descended from many different ethnic groups, we generally have access to soft water, clean air and good wholesome food (harder to find in some parts than others). Those of us who bother to take care of ourselves are healthy - why not look it? Why aim for the Amy Winehouse teased-hair, ruined eye makeup, starving on-the-way-to-rehab look? Why look like we never sleep or shower and smoke a pack a day when we spend our time trying to sleep and cleanse more and better and smoke less? I know the Europeans look romantic and mysterious a little bit tired and dirty - but it's not because they're dirty, it's because they've got a thousand years of culture and tradition and genetics providing them with that knowingness and allure. We've got a couple hundred years of nothing coherent, a jumble of genes from people who liked to try new things or they never would have gotten here, and who must have been healthy because they never would have survived here. We should be playing this up, and women's magazines should not be telling us to try to look like something else.

So when MC and the other women's publications take nice shiny hair and tease and spray and 'texturise' it to the point where it looks more like a topiary than a hairstyle, it makes me sad. And instead of advocating a healthier lifestyle (I guess that's for a different sector of magazine to address- and there are more than enough of those as well, but no fear, I won't bore you with my thoughts on them...today), there are pages and pages of makeup recommendations. I know a lot of women; some of them even live in Manhattan, although admittedly none work in fashion. But of these women, none of them wear makeup the way it is presented in these magazines, and presented in such a way as to give the impression that all of the publication's staffers, all of their friends and anyone else who matters also participates in this daily masking ritual. I have never worn any makeup apart from concealer, lip gloss and nail polish (I wear contacts and all eye makeup leaves me with an eye infection), and neither have many of my friends or female family members, with the result that when someone is visibly made up I find myself focusing more on their makeup than on their face, which seems unfortunate.

I get that I will eventually have to figure some of this stuff out, or just learn to ignore it. I'm 32, my skin's already fading (in spite of the care I take of it), and grey hair is not as shiny as brown. I need to understand that there are no women's magazines for me; they are either aimed at women younger than I am or at women more interested at looking like someone they are not. I need a publication that focuses on how to become more comfortable with one's inside self, in order to feel more at ease and project not just the glow of physical health, but of acceptance and unconditional love. Because nothing's more beautiful than that.

Does that make sense?

This is a favorite phrase of all of my coworkers. As I am the low person on the proverbial pole, I'm always getting directives issued from above, which are always followed by 'does that make sense?' or some derivative thereof. I don't know whether to interpret the preponderance of disbelief in one's own ability to make sense around here as a result of the fact that no one else in the organization ever makes sense, or a result of the general stupidity of everything we have to do clouding the brain.

But if I find myself starting to say it, I'll know there's a problem. I ALWAYS make sense.

One more word about the Pats and then

I'll let it lie. It turns out that the on-field electronic communication system between the QB and the coach wasn't working, which goes at least a short way toward explaining why Brady looked sort of bewildered for the first part of the game.

I just read in my favorite non-East Coast-centric blog, NewMexiken, that yesterday was the 69th anniversary of Kristallnacht, which was the night the Holocaust officially began. Just thinking about it gives me the shivers.

I take it back!

Well not all of it because it wasn't the game I was hoping for, and I stand by my original comments, but THE PATS WON. 9-0 BABY!

the Patriots are killing me

My head feels like it's about to explode; I can't imagine how Belichik feels. Watching these players turn into bewildered, sniveling children when faced with one decent opponent is embarrassing. Man up! Willy Andrews continuing to hold his mark after they'd gone out of bounds was shameful.

Also shameful has been the officiating. I want the Pats to win, naturally, but I am so disappointed in this game overall. Everyone was looking forward to it all week, and while it's at least been a close one, it really hasn't lived up to its potential at all.

The only light at the end of the tunnel for me right now (aside from the Pats scoring again in the next 8 minutes and stopping Indy from doing so - kind of unlikely) is the knowledge that On Demand is finally featuring Friday Night Lights. Better late than never, guys!

Everything old is new again

This morning's VH1 Top Twenty Countdown has (to my distracted knowledge, since I've also been hitting refresh on the Arsenal-Man Utd match) featured three generations' poster boys: the Eagles, Bon Jovi and the Backstreet Boys. Since not one of their latest singles remotely measures up to what might be considered their best, I have to wonder why they insist on carrying on. They've all made more than enough money, and while some band members may have drug or gambling debts to pay off, even they can't be too hard up, so long as they were intelligent about residual rights to their music. I guess it just makes me sad that they can't find anything else to do with their time than to continuously try to relive past glories. I want everyone to live up to whatever potential they possess at that point in time, and these guys just aren't hiting the highest notes (pun sort of intended, I guess) available to them at this moment.

Also: BRITNEY: GO AWAY