On the (Rest of the) Net.

 

How to be a Victoria’s Secret Angel:

“Holding tight to a mission statement that stands first and foremost to ‘empower women,’ and a slogan stating the brand is one to ‘Inspire, Empower and Indulge,’ the company ‘helps customers to feel sexy, bold and powerful.’

“Where once sexualized representations of women in the media presented them as passive, mute objects of an assumed male gaze, today women are presented as active, desiring sexual subjects who choose to present themselves in an objectified manner because it suits their ‘liberated’ interests to do so.

“Not only are women objectified as they have been, but through sexual subjectification, they must also now understand their own objectification as pleasurable and self-chosen.”

Why Britney Spears is the everywoman pop star of our generation.

Unfortunately for John Galliano, “Rehab Does Not Cure Anti-Semitism”.

Also, Gawker wonders “How the Hell is Anti-Semitism Having a ‘Moment’?”

Owen Wilson managed to escape the tabloid microscope of Hollywood after his 2007 suicide attempt, unlike so many other stars who’ve fallen of the mental health wagon (the aforementioned Britney, Lindsay Lohan and flavour of the moment, Charlie Sheen):

“…it is Wilson who seems to have gotten the hall pass. He has never explained what happened to him that anguished Sunday in August…

“It’s a fascinating instance of a celebrity hiding in plain sight—and getting away with it—that stands virtually alone in Hollywood’s PR playbook.

“What’s the statute of limitations on personal issues in Hollywood?”

Baby bullying in the Bonds Baby Search competition. Seriously?! Baby bullying?!

What would it be like to sleep with a women’s magazine?:

“Vogue: You’re really flattered. They’re probably the hottest person you’ve ever slept with. Neither of you gets off.”

US political commentator Rush Limbaugh feels that Michelle Obama doesn’t have the right body type to be an advocate for beating childhood obesity:

“I’m trying to say that our First Lady does not project the image of women that you might see on the cover of the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Issue, or of a woman Alex Rodriguez might date every six months or what have you. I mean, women are under constant pressure to look lithe, and Michelle My Belle is out there saying if you eat the roots and tree bark and the berries and all this cardboard stuff you will live longer, be healthier and you won’t be obese. Okay, fine, show us.”

Racist, sexist and sizeist on so many levels.

On that, “Beauty is Not a Spectrum” at Eat The Damn Cake.

The secret lives of sex store workers.

“Charlie Sheen’s ‘Porn Family’, Explained.”

Images via Squa.re, Everyday Facts.

 

Is RUSSH the New Vogue? A Comparative Analysis of Their September Issues.

 

I’m not much of a RUSSH fan; I find it a bit too pretentious for it’s own good. Vogue, however, can afford to be pretentious because it backs itself up with flawless fashion and high quality essays. However, I don’t usually find it to be so.

But this month I swallowed my pride and purchased RUSSH, primarily because of its review on Girl with a Satchel, but also because a small-time Australian magazine landed one of fashion’s (okay, lingerie modelling’s) hottest commodities, Alessandra Ambrosio, for its cover, and because of the “Come Back Kerouac” feature on books and reading.

While nothing beats Alice Cavanagh’s musings on the survival of novels “in the age of the small screen” (worth the $9.95 cover price if only for that), other Vogue-esque long-form essays include “Bohemian Like You” on the gypsy jet-setthe gypset; in an ode to “The Art Issue”, Danielle Top illustrates “The Artist’s Way”, “a practical guide to making your mark” which I don’t necessarily think works for me, but some acquaintances have had success with in the past; a profile on RUSSH’s favourite artists, including Anaïs Nin, Allen Ginsberg and Robert Mapplethorpe in “We Want You To Love Them Like We Do”, as well as “the most ground-breaking and… sought-after artist of our generation”, Ryan McGinley; and finally, in very Vogue-like fashion, Jess Blanch deals with burning the candle at both ends inwhat else?“Both Ends Burning”.

In terms of fashion, there is a small accessories feature in the front of the book, followed by Alessandra Ambrosio’s shoot, which merges “street chic with a ballet-esque fragility”, but it’s got nothing on Vogue in this respect. Cover star Catherine McNeil is rife throughout Vogue, channelling a ’50s sex kitten in Louis Vuitton, Prada and Dolce & Gabbana’s figure-hugging frocks in “A Fine Romance”, and a punk rockabilly meets West Side Story meets Grease charm in “Pretty Baby”.

And article-wise, Vogue takes the cake yet again, with “Is Fashion Art?” (an inadvertent dig at RUSSH, perhaps?), the pros and cons of having close male friends and if it can ever just be platonic, in “The Opposite of Sex” and, my favourite (as I always love a beauty debate), “The Beauty Bubble”, in which beautiful women like Nicole Trunfio and Noa Tishby discuss the perils of being beautiful. Seriously, though, it is a though-provoking essay, and Trunfio comes up with some surprisingly deep insights on being a model: “I do think models get away with a lot, but it’s not necessarily the important things in life… But not for long, because outer beauty does not last…”

And how’s this for a coincidence? Both RUSSH and Vogue feature the same patterned green Louis Vuitton skirt this month. I have to say, I prefer RUSSH‘s take on the garment (left), but the Bible’s version is quintessentially quirky Vogue (right).

The overall winner is, hands down, Vogue, for its flawlessly executed fashion, impeccable features and it’s ability to “feed”, as Carrie Bradshaw would say, but I was surprisingly impressed by RUSSH’s take on art, fashion and knowledge.