Glossed Over

Lowest Common Denominator: Marie Claire, December

0: Number of cosmetic procedures Nicole Kidman claims to have had in “Nicole Kidman Spills…”

0: Amount of credibility that statement holds when compared to the cover photo and this particularly jarring shot (Remember when she actually had pigment?)

$37,990: Price of the YSL Downtown Croc Tote, the most expensive item featured in “Shopping Deconstructed” (The article attempts to answer the burning question, “How can a bag cost more than med school?”  We get the how, but we’re still wondering about the why.)

4: Of the seven cars featured in “Primp My Ride,” the number that cost less than the YSL bag (Hence the reason we’re still working on the why.  A bag that costs more than a car?  Is that ever necessary?  Forty grand for a purse is just plain vulgar.)

$20,855: Value of the five ensembles worn by reader Sarah Annibale in “Fashion Boot Camp”

26.8: Percent of the average Marie Claire reader’s household income needed to purchase those same outfits (source: Marie Claire’s media kit, registration required)

$1,385: Retail price of a Versace gold clutch shown in “Clutchy-Feely,” page 64

$650: Price of an Orlane Paris cream containing pure gold extract, as shown in “Beauty Deconstructed”

$797.80: Price of one ounce of gold (source)

5: Pages devoted to the story “Step Away from the Chardonnay!” which is an ever-so-helpful guide to “choosing your booze”

9: Number of pages of Bacardi Rum advertising located immediately adjacent to the aforementioned story (an eight-page insert plus a full-page ad)

2: Pages of alcohol advertising placed elsewhere in the issue

101: Number of readers who appear in for “101 Dresses (on 101 Readers)”

26: Median age of readers depicted in “101 Dresses (on 101 Readers)”

37.1: Median age of Marie Claire readers (source)

$1,320: Average annual per capita income in Bhutan, where fashion spread “A Stitch in Time” was shot (source)

4: Number of items depicted priced greater than $1,320, not including a “price upon request” Maxmara dress

Self Offers Unbiased Beauty Tips, Hope to Easily Duped Readers

From Self’s “Notes to Self,” August:

I wish I looked as good as Rebecca Romijn after a dip. Can you suggest a mascara that will stay put?

This letter, from reader Nancy Lee of Huntingdon Valley, Pennsylvania, is accompanied by a photo of Rebecca Romijn in full diving regalia—is that a knife strapped to her thigh?—tugging an inflatable boat out of the waves.

Hey, Nancy?  We hate to shatter your illusions, but Rebecca Romijn didn’t actually dive into the ocean in full makeup for this photo shoot. What you see in Self is not an accurate representation of any kind of acquatic activity, unless you consider standing knee-deep in the waves with a photographer, makeup artist, stylist, and a dozen other people nearby to count as an athletic endeavor.

Besides, if you’re going to covet something about the model/actress’s appearance, is it really something as easily attainable as her eyelashes?  Apparently, Romijn’s glossy lashes can be had with just a simple swipe of the $7 Revlon mascara Self recommends. And never mind the specious placement of a Revlon ad on the facing page. Really. We’re sure it’s just a coincidence—you know, the same way Self just happened to capture Rebecca Romijn’s return from a deep-sea diving expedition on film.

We Read It So You Don't Have To: The Un-Lucky Life of Jean Godfrey-June

We hate to admit it, but this week’s installment of We Read It So You Don’t Have To will only save you the time it takes to peruse one page of September’s Lucky.  Still, it’s an egregiously obnoxious one page, so we’ll forge ahead with our summary of Jean Godfrey-June’s “Beauty Spy.”

This month, just like every other month, she initially doubts that she’ll like the product she’ll eventually promote. Is the fragrance too strong? Can any anti-aging ingredient live up to the dramatic claims of its manufacturers? Will the results really be worth the thirty seconds a day it takes to apply the product?

Then, also like every other month, she relates a dull anecdote only vaguely related to the product in question. She rides an elevator with someone who comments on the way she looks and/or smells. Her kids and/or husband question her religious use of some new-fangled device. Or there was this one thing that happened a very long time ago that, through a highly dubious sense of which topics are related, she manages to connect to the product in question.

And—you guessed it, just like every other month—she falls irrevocably in love with the item, cost be damned, and she hoards enough to last through a nuclear winter.

At this point, if these columns are to be believed, the woman must own enough beauty products to stock a Sephora.  And have you seen her on TV? She doesn’t even appear to wear makeup. What is she doing with all of this stockpiled stuff? Should we organize an intervention? Is Lucky complicit in her addiction by depicting her as a charmingly slender and well-dressed cartoon character each month?

But never mind all that negativity—it’s not important. We choose to look at the upside of this potentially disastrous situation: if Jean Godfrey-June continues to trot out these tired tropes month after month, we won’t need to bother reading her page. And we don’t have to relate a boring tale from our childhood to know that skipping this nonsense is something we can recommend to everyone.

The further adventures of Jean Godfrey-June: Lucky Sets New Standard for Passive-Aggressiveness, Long Lashes; Now Which Staffer Will Take Care of Her Hair?

Photo of Jean Godfrey-June and her ever-increasing collection from the News and Observer