Glossed Over

There's Nothing Sexy About InStyle's "Look Better Naked"

Many many years ago, I briefly dated a guy who was, well, not particularly nice.  Watching a movie at his place one afternoon, he leaned in for a kiss. (Mom and Dad, avert your eyes here.) Matters progressed, he tugged the hem of my t-shirt over my head, and then he rolled his eyes at my basic beige bra. “Don’t you have any sexy underwear?” he asked.

All I could think was: Dude, I’m taking my clothes off for you. How is that not enough?

Therein lies the problem with February’s glut of lingerie and look-better-naked stories: they’re so focused on an artificial construct of romance that they miss the point. If, as magazines often say, feeling sexy means feeling comfortable in your own skin, then endless articles exhorting the virtues of self-tanners, lacy knickers, and styling products aren't exactly conducive to developing that self-confidence.

And that’s what makes InStyle’s “10 Ways to Look Better Naked” so utterly ludicrous. Among their suggestions:

• Weight loss

Got 30 minutes and $85 to spend on detoxifying salts? Great!

We shed 3 inches of water weight and felt thinner for about 48 hours.

And you can keep those inches off, too, provided you don’t do anything outlandish like, say, eat or drink. People don’t typically go to romantic restaurants on Valentine’s Day, do they?

• Jewelry

The magazine suggests highlighting your back, which it calls “a very sexy region of the body.” The best way to do that? With an $850 gemstone-studded lariat chain, obviously. Without pricey jewels pointing the way, how would a man know what to focus on?

• Home décor

“Amber casts skin in a warm, rosy glow,” says [interior designer Ron] Woodson, who suggests placing a red-hued bulb in bedside lamps and painting your ceiling a barely there shade of peach or pink to enhance the effect.

Painting the ceiling? Painting the ceiling! That seems excessively vain, but at least they didn’t suggest installing a mirror up there.

Of course, the article also covers the usual territory of depilation, exfoliation, and cosmetic trickery to hide any traces of humanity blemishes and bruises. But unless you’re disrobing for a sculptor who’ll immortalize your every detail in marble, isn’t this overkill? There’s probably a 3,000-word essay here about treating women like objects and the deleterious effects of porn and how the media tries to define our sexuality, but I’ll just leave it at this:

If you’re naked and your partner dares frown at your white ceiling or a stray stretch mark, your relationship is way beyond InStyle’s help. Also, you’re probably dating my ex-boyfriend.

Lowest Common Denominator: Cosmopolitan, February

6: Minutes per day needed to “score a slammin’ bod,” according to the cover

Infinite: The disingenuousness of a Cover Girl ad suggesting readers “go for beauty on your own terms” by eschewing department-store cosmetics for the Cover Girl brand. Thanks, Cover Girl, for telling me what my own terms are! Apparently my terms involve buying slightly less expensive stuff I don’t need.

25: Cosmopolitan’s “magic age” for getting married, as cited on page 36

100: In “Beauty: His Picks,” number of men surveyed about whether nail decals are “fun and flirty” or “too over-the-top”

Apparently zero: Number of women surveyed for the same article about whether they care what 100 random men think of their fingernails

1950s: Decade whose gender stereotypes Cosmo rejects in “Are You Turning Your Boyfriend Into a Girlie Man?”—right before suggesting steak and football are inherently masculine and salad, Cat Power, and French movies are inextricably feminine.

101: Page of the aforementioned article that made my head explode. The culprit phrase? “Do more gender-neutral activities with your man (see our “Manly Date Ideas,” at right)…” Since when does “gender-neutral” default to “manly”?

1: Appallingly evocative reference to an erect penis as a “giant breakfast sausage” on page 105. Sorry, I couldn’t let that one pass!

9: Of the thirteen men Cosmo’s crowned its “Fun Fearless Males 2010,” the number who are actors (The other four are a musician, an athlete, a TV producer, and Dr. Oz.)

“Almost 200” and “up to 300”: The supposedly shocking calorie counts in bottled teas and wrap sandwiches, according to “These Healthy Foods Can Make You Fat”

Endless: Stories in this issue devoted to pleasing men sexually (“4 Traits Men Find Irresistible,” “99 Hot New Sex Tips...In 20 Words or Less,” “Tap In to Your Seductive Powers,” “The One Time He Always Wants You”)

4 apiece: Pages devoted to articles about fertility and inter-racial couples

3: Pages devoted to a story about the decline of the thong

2: Pages dedicated to police officer Ally Jacobs, whose investigative work led to the arrest of Jaycee Dugard's captor

Huge: My—and, I’m sure, your—relief at learning one needn’t get a job at Cosmopolitan to achieve the same success with men that its staffers enjoy, because the magazine found 13 of them to give us the inside scoop. Lessons offered by current and former magazine staffers in “Engaged at Cosmo!” include these gems: cook his favorite dishes, avoid discussing marriage, don’t freak out when he plays Guitar Hero (like someone would?), and always wear the latest nail polish.

Zip: Actual eroticism in this month’s edition of “Red Hot Reads,” as exemplified by this decidedly unsexy sentence: “It felt so good that coherent thought was behind her, but she did realize it had never been like this with any other man before.”

Bazaar: Bare Your Body to Boost the Economy

In an essay in the February issue of Bazaar, Derek Blasberg tries valiantly to explain the phenomenon he calls "The Sexification of Fashion."

What is this "sexification," and how do we know it's occurring? I've read his article three times and I'm not exactly certain. But it has something to do with Megan Fox earning a lot of money as the face of Emporio Armani Underwear, Jenna Jameson wearing a tasteful blue frock on Oprah, and pop stars like Lady Gaga, Rihanna, and Shakira merely existing.

Blasberg's theory rests on two things: a catalog of strange ideas about how women should express their sexuality, and—you guessed it!—the economy. He writes:

A woman tarting up her lifestyle, according to many, can be traced back to a very familiar recent event: the Great Recession.

Riiiight. Like Lady Gaga doesn’t wear pants because she can’t afford them.

“Maybe you can’t afford a new condo or a couture blouse,” [Simon Doonan] teases, “but hanky panky is free!”

Spoken like someone who’s never paid for birth control!

New York’s Upper East Side novelist Jill Kargman argues that a woman feeling a renewed sense of sexual energy and power in the light of the recession shouldn’t be surprising. “Since men’s egos are so wrapped up in their bank accounts, maybe their sex drive mirrors the Dow?” she wonders. “Perhaps women are trying to play into their fantasies more to lift spirits and electroshock them back from the dead?”

Maybe so! I mean, it is our responsibility as women to use our bodies to ensure men feel good about themselves at all times.

“Why dress meekly when things look bleak?” the designer Antonio Berardi asks.

Excellent point! So I assume Berardi wore a see-through singlet and hot pants during this interview. Men are also subject to the new dress code, right?                                               

He agrees with Kargman that in this economy, it’s all about a sexual woman and says, “Every once in a while fashion is dictated not by trends but by the need to feel sexy, to be adored, and to be wanted. Now more so than ever it’s about playing the female card.”

And every once in a while, fashion is dictated by men who justify objectifying women by claiming to know how women feel.

By the way, what constitutes “playing the female card”? Possessing ovaries?

Still, the midst of all this trenchant socio-economic analysis, there is some ever-so-helpful fashion advice. For instance:

…why not try an over-the-knee boot? It’s official: they’re not just for prostitutes anymore!

And, to close the article, this charming reminder:

But [Berardi] warns novices…: “Slutty is just too much and totally wrong.” In other words, ladies, wear underwear!

What a coincidence! “Just too much and totally wrong”—much like this article.

Vogue Takes Its Turn in the Lara Stone Sideshow

I haven’t read an issue of Vogue in three months, but good news for me: nothing’s changed! In her January “Letter from the Editor,” Anna Wintour demonstrates the magazine’s remarkably persistent distance from the real world.

[French fashion designer Sophie Theallet] is a very rare creature in fashion these days. As [Lanvin designer Alber] Elbaz told the crowd, it is too often the case these days that people elect to work in style industries in pursuit of fame, not skills. “Why does every girl over five feet tall and age thirteen want to be a model?” he asked. “Why don’t they ever want to be a seamstress?”

Yeah! Why be the beautiful woman who wears the clothes when you could be the poorly paid one who makes them?

Never a magazine to back down from a completely indefensible viewpoint, the issue also includes an article detailing the struggles of size-four model Lara Stone. Which is great, you know, because Vogue clearly offers an unbiased perspective on the fashion industry’s obsession with preternatural thinness. (Sigh.)

From “Hello, Gorgeous”:

It’s hard to say which came first—the superskinny model or the size 0 sample. Either way, the trend has been tough on both the models, who find it nearly impossible to maintain that body type past the age of seventeen, and the magazines that want to show clothes on models who aren’t painfully thin.

Vogue not being one of those magazines, obviously.

Designers who use the superskinny girls defend the trend, saying clothes hang better on a coat hanger. But the opposite is also true—some clothes look better on bodies with “boobs,” which is why Stone’s career has flourished.

What a charming pair of sentences! Slender women's bodies are compared to coat hangers, the fashion industry's ideal woman is actually an inanimate object, and we learn clothes aren't designed for humans. Oh, and for those who don't happen to resemble a hanger, guess what! One model who is still way thinner than most of us is enough to represent us! Who says the fashion industry doesn't love women?

Stone doesn’t blame fashion for her problems. “I like my job,” she says… She doesn’t even blame the designers—“That is their aesthetic. It’s not for me to say whether it’s right or wrong.”

Well, I’ll say it. It is wrong to call a woman fat because she doesn’t resemble a wire hanger. Also wrong? Not blaming designers. Canonizing a coat hanger as the ideal female form isn't the worst thing they could do, but it's probably illegal to make clothes out of asbestos.

By the way, those difficulties writer Rebecca Johnson refers to? They include a recent stint in rehab for alcohol abuse—a habit that began when Stone tried drinking to lose weight. In a sentence so callous that I can't quite believe it's in print, Johnson says this:

Her problems—if you can even call them that—recall the poet Rilke's definition of fame as the collection of misunderstandings that gather around a person.

Got that? Stone's drinking was reminiscent of Rilke, and not, say, indicative of a destructive atmosphere in the fashion world.

“People still tell me I’m fat, but when I look in the mirror, that’s not what I see.”

Maybe Wintour and Elbaz are on to something: why would a woman aspire to be a model when this is how models are treated?

Stone’s recent surge in prominence may well lead to a positive shift in attitudes—but until then, it’s disheartening to see her continually treated like a size-four sideshow.  Her shape makes her an anomaly in the fashion world, but by focusing on her "fat" size-four body, magazines seem to overlook that she's an anomaly in the real world, too.

Related: What W Really Thinks About Women's Bodies

Lowest Common Denominator: Lucky, October

1: Estimated number of photos shot of Kristen Bell for the cover. Why would they use this awkward-looking one if they had any others?

10: Days’ worth of foundation Estee Lauder will supply for free, according to their ad, which also notes that the makeup must be “right for the way you live”

Under 20: Approximate number of remaining celebrities without their own fragrance collections now that Kat Von D has one (advertised on page 56)

$2,495: Price of a Chanel bag featured in “Lucky Editors Answer: What’s your no-apologies splurge?” Also, note how Lucky makes it sound like buying a Chanel purse is an act of self-empowerment. Because you need a designer bag to fulfill your potential as a human being!

80: Page on which editor Jenny Kang describes the “corpse bride” as her fashion inspiration in “What I Want Now”

All of them: Individual hairs on my head I will remove in frustration if a fashion magazine glamorizes death one more time

$79, $50, and $30: The actually affordable price tags of the jeans Lucky calls “affordable” on page 92

100: Page which recommends a $23 skort from Land’s End

6,731: Since reading that, instances I've wondered whether we're really doing skorts again, and if so, WHY?

4,529,023: Including the one on page 132, estimated number of mentions on Cover Girl’s Outlast lipstain pen in women’s magazines in the last few months

2: Number of Cover Girl lipstains I’ve purchased in those same months

“Lots”: According to photographer Mario Testino, the amount of “very good sex” model Carmen Kass has enjoyed. Jean Godfrey-June reports that Testino reportedly described Kass to Michael Kors by saying, “Zees leg…you only get a leg like zees by having lots of very good sex.”

3: Products required to create the “disheveled ponytail” in “Hair Styles We Love Now”

$575: Price of a purse Lucky describes as “so rich” on page 160

Not a single bit: Discretion about advertorial displayed by placing an ad for the YSL fragrance Parisienne in the middle of a spread about Parisian style. Subtle!

W: Death Does Not Become Her

Good news, fashionistas! Death doesn't mean forsaking your love of cutting-edge fashion. Just take a look at W's September issue, which features scads of stylish women who just happen to be posed as if they've died or are dying a painful, violent death. Apparently, Gucci and the Grim Reaper need not be mutually exclusive.

From Steven Klein's "Academy," here's the classic just-barely-hanging-on-to-life pose. If this were a movie, she'd have reached up and grabbed the fence with her last breath. Lara Stone really rocks that deathly pallor, doesn't she?

From "Woodstock," photographed by Juergen Teller, actress Jennifer Jason Leigh sprawls on a pool deck in a manner suggesting a struggle:

 

Then we have the snakebite victim:

The woman who is awfully happy about her children lying slain next to her:

A vehicular manslaughter:

From "Sunday in the Park," shot by Mert Alas and Marcus Piggott, two limp women in lingerie:

 

And the all-important disposal of the evidence (an unsettling postscript to this photo of happier times in the canoe):

"Paper Bag Princess," photographed by Craig McDean, takes literally the maxim about fashion to die for:

Is slumping against a wall, limbs askew, supposed to be chic?

Evidently!

 

And let's not forget Lanvin's charmless death-by-cats ad, shot by Steven Meisel.

 

Perhaps these portrayals aren't meant to invoke death, but the women in these photos appear weak, helpless, and stripped of their agency. What's the intended message? "Hey, ladies, the last outfit you'll ever wear should be special!"

It's no coincidence that these pictorials were shot by male photographers. Whether these images are the result of lazy art direction, latent sexism, or some other motive, I can't say. But men don't live every day shadowed by the specter of random violence. Women are taught to walk in groups, carry our keys poking through our fingers as a makeshift weapon, and scream "Fire!" instead of "Help!" because no one pays attention to the latter. When you've been indoctrinated that your personal safety is constantly in jeopardy, photographs implying danger are not arty or deep. They're the embodiment of your worst fears.

Maybe that's why photographers find such tableaux so appealing. But dead women in designer clothes isn't a fashion statement, and normalizing violence against women in the pages of a women's magazine doesn't make for edgy editorial. It just makes us fashion victims.

Related: W Redefines "Fashion Victim" in Furry Photo Spread

Vogue Liveblog 2009: The Real September Issue

The cover of this year's edition says it's "the REAL September issue," as opposed to The September Issue. It's a differentiation that doesn't make much sense for most of us, since the movie's only opened in one city. But it just wouldn't be Vogue if it were accessible to everyone!

Before I begin the liveblog, the rules: I have not read any part of this issue—in fact, I haven't even opened it. I have not read any commentary from other blogs about this issue. All I've seen are the front and back covers.  And I'll be blogging in real time—just refresh this post to see the latest.

On with the magazine!

Allure Strikes Out with Sports Advice

If all these magazines are going to relay ridiculous advice, could they at least get together first and be consistent in their totally arbitrary rules? While Cosmopolitan advised that female sports fans are unlikely to find male companionship, the September issue of Allure posits that a cursory knowledge of sports is mandatory. From “How to Be Stylish”:

You are not required to like sports. You are not even required to pretend to like sports. But utter cluelessness is beneath you.

To put this in perspective: Allure did not consider it beneath them to print a two-page spread with a dozen pictures of Michael Jackson and ask plastic surgeons (some of whom had apparently never treated Jackson) to speculate about the procedures he’d had. So knowing enough about MJ that it practically constitutes a HIPAA violation is cool, but not following the NBA is unforgivably churlish.

Also, while no text explains exactly why acquiring some sports knowledge is so important, the facing page features a photo of a couple canoodling in a baseball stadium. Subtle!

Familiarize yourself with the approximate beginning and end of the pro sports seasons. Not having an opinion about the Lakers’ record is fine; not knowing that the season is over is lame.

The same goes for time periods: Baseball has nine innings; football and basketball have four quarters; hockey has three periods; soccer has two halves.

And that's it! No need to worry about such unimportant details as field goals or free throws or anything that would give the impression you actually have the slightest command of any of these games. At least there's nothing here about, like, the Lakers wearing purple and gold...together.

Upsets are the most exciting thing about watching sports. Watch highlights of the most buzzed-about games on YouTube so you can join in the national conversation. (Just check out when the U.S. soccer team beat Spain in this year’s Confederations Cup.)

At last...an explanation! It’s the “national conversation.” Apparently, the country is also absorbed with walking in platforms and cheek-kissing, because those are two of the other life-and-death matters covered in this article. Can I assume GQ and Esquire are instructing their readers to bone up on those topics?

Deeming a lack of knowledge about sports is undignified seems just as arbitrary as declaring which colors of eyeshadow are in for fall. Why single out sports as an essential topic—especially when the only explanation comes in a picture of a couple getting cozy on a baseball diamond? If the idea is that some basic sports knowledge will help readers relate to men, they could at least be upfront about it. (And imagine the amazing conversations that would result from following this article’s advice: Him: “I love hockey.” Her: “I don’t like hockey, and I won’t pretend to like hockey, but Allure says that game has three periods! Now let me tell you how many innings a baseball game has!”)

Instead, Allure’s advice perpetuates the myth that women don’t like sports while simultaneously implying that a lack of interest or knowledge in the subject is a personal failure. I don’t know what game this is, but I don’t think Allure is playing fair.

Related: Cosmopolitan: Sports Fans, Prepare to Be Single Forever