[insert lame joke about actresses being so thin they become two dimensional and virtually disappear when viewed from a perpendicular angle] Ok, that joke works out much better visually, specifically in the Calvin and Hobbes strip I stole it from. If I were your boss you would totally laugh at that — note to all aspiring unpaid interns out there.
I read this in the ol’ Gray Lady this morning. I know it’s in the Fashion & Style section, and I loves me my goss every now and then, but I am severely disappointed with the reporting coming out of the New York Times lately. Are we all supposed to turn a blind eye to the fact that all of Zoe’s clients listed in that article are dangerously underweight? And that their popularity and the burgeoning popularity of Zoe, which is burgeoned even more by the Times article's implicit approval of her “style”, thereby encourages millions of girls to imitate their lack of poundage? I’m not saying that the article is in any way biased, though it does appear to involve a generous dose of suspended disbelief, but by giving her column inches and having the article link featured on their home page, it gives her credibility and validates whatever methods she uses to make her clients look “good”. It’s enough to make me glad I don’t live in an area where the Times will deliver to my door. Those bastards.
I can’t imagine growing up today, when people like Rachel Zoe have control over how people dress and look. I’m a Big Eighties girl, and when I was a kid, my TV only bombarded me with images of starving girls when Sally Struthers was asking for money. Of course, now Sally Struthers has a recurring role on a popular one-hour drama and starvation is required to get a gig on a popular one-hour drama if you are not Sally Struthers. But back in the day, we had “real” people on TV, though this was ages before reality TV. I am, of course, referring to the T (first name: “Mister”, middle name: “.”) and Sherman Hemsley and Nell Carter and the entire Huxtable clan. No one was plastic and everyone was black and everything in the world was right. Those were the days, the days of the Dunkin Donuts man. More than Nell, more than George Jefferson, more than Theo, I loved the Dunkin Donuts man. He seemed so kind, so generous, so giving of donuts. Whatever happened to the Dunkin Donuts man?
And that take us to the main thrust of my post today — the Dunkin Donuts across the street (Queen) officially opens this Saturday! For all you Rachel Zoe clients out there, I will be more than happy to buy you all the donuts you can eat, should you happen to be in town on Saturday.