Glossed Over

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

What W Really Thinks About Women's Bodies

This is model Lara Stone on the cover of the August issue of W.

 

This is Lara Stone modeling inside that same issue.

And this is Lara Stone in her underwear, also from the August issue.

These are some of the terms used to describe Lara Stone in the editor's letter and the article “Fashion’s It Girl”:

• “a little meat on her bones” (W’s deputy editor, Julie L. Belcove)
• “voluptuous frame”  (the article’s author, Sarah Haight)
• “a mix of a warrior and Brigitte Bardot” (designer Isabel Marant)
• “her body…a refreshing aesthetic shift away from the prepubescent boy figure that has lately dominated fashion” (Haight)
• “big, bad and beautiful” (photographer Bruce Weber)

And this is how Lara Stone describes her own body:

“A lot of people say it’s nice to see someone who won’t break in half when you touch them,” she says… “But I am still a woman and a person, and if you’re compared and confronted with your colleagues, and they’re all half your size, you think, F---, I’m really fat! And then on other days, I’m like, Oh, I’m not that bad.”

“Not that bad”? A woman who makes money posing in her underwear is “not that bad”?

The fashion industry—and, in turn, the fashion media—have such a warped concept of slimness that a model like Lara Stone is so much larger than her contemporaries that they feel the need to explain her presence. If Stone’s body is such an outlier, what does that say about the rest of us?

Worse, the magazine saw fit to issue the disclaimer that Stone “is, it should be noted, a very lithe five foot ten.” Why, yes, do note that! As if there’s the slightest chance someone is going to look at these photos and think Stone needs to, like, slow down on the Cheetos.

The article mentions multiple times that her look is a modeling-world anomaly. And that gives editors, photographers, and designers the chance to explain why they hired her—which is really just a whole lot of self-congratulatory masturbation about how open-minded they are, like they have to somehow justify (to us!) casting a woman whose ribs don't poke out above her cleavage. Yeah, they’re real body-image mavericks. What a revolution. If they truly believed that Stone’s shape is so enviable, why the need for justification? If the “meat on her bones” is so praiseworthy, why don’t we see more models with “meat”?

Her figure may be in vogue, but the rest of us have to live with our bodies no matter what magazines deem the ideal shape of the moment. Perhaps the industry could stop treating Stone like a freakshow long enough to realize how very hypocritical it is to praise her curves and how insulting it is to us when they’re compelled to rationalize featuring a woman with hips and a bustline. We have those. We get it.

Clearly, the fashion industry doesn’t.

Related: The Language of Magazines: Is “Curvy” Completely Meaningless?

W Goes Undercover to Reveal America's Oft-Maligned Elite

Maybe you’ve heard, but the United States is in the midst of a presidential race! Every 24-hour cable news network has switched to continuous coverage of the speechifying, much of which consists of finger-pointing at a nebulous category of Americans known to politicians as the “elite.” So, who are these mysterious elite? Are they an Illuminati-like organization who are the true maleficent puppeteers behind the unholy open-toed boot? Are they the tremendously wealthy people who dwell in compounds instead of houses (or, ahem, seven houses)?

No! In fact, they’re people who were interviewed for the September issue of W. Maybe the cover line “What Recession?” is tongue-in-cheek, but you wouldn’t know it from reading the articles inside. The whole issue is redolent with the kind of boorish entitlement and unfounded superiority that is, well, the magazine’s trademark, really.

Join me as we scrutinize the elite in their natural habitat!

Our tour begins with “Comme and Go.” In the article, designer Rei Kawakubo of Comme des Garcons evaluates her partnership with H&M, using the time-honored technique of condescending to her potential customers.

“I think [stores like H&M] have their rightful place in the world. Not everyone necessarily needs new things all the time and creative designs.”

Right, people who shop at H&M should be stuck with a sparse wardrobe of unimaginative clothing that can only be replaced once a year. To be fair, here’s the almost-redeeming remainder of her quote:

“It’s good to have luxury restaurants and fast-food restaurants. You need both.”

Next, we meet Margaret Dickerson, whose skincare line derived from Budapest’s mud baths is profiled in “Water Works.”

…She was more amazed by how smooth and soft her skin looked and felt after a dip. She began noticing a similar afterglow on people all over town. “I don’t want to be a reductionist and say even cleaning ladies have great skin,” she says. “But everyone does.”

Well, I never! The audacity of a working-class woman looking as good as a wealthy woman!

Our next stop here in the mysterious world occupied by the elite is “Out of the Picture.” Outgoing Museum of Modern Art director Phillip de Montebello explains his philosophy.

To his mind, the very act of stepping inside a museum makes one an elitist because it represents a choice to become educated. When he was addressing a group of summer interns a few years ago, one asked what the museum was doing to combat elitism. He recalls responding: “Where are your friends? They’re hanging around outside the drugstore in your neighborhood, wherever that is. You chose in to come indoors in the summer and learn about great works of art. That makes you an elitist. You have come to better yourself. That is what elitism is. Do I have to apologize for that?”

Apologize? For bettering yourself, no. For shamelessly berating an intern who seemed to be genuinely invested in the concept of using art to reach new audiences, definitely.

Continuing with our journey through the halls of modern American elitism, there’s this charming tale from “Euro Stars”:

Meanwhile in Paris, Becca Cason Thrash threw her American Friends of the Louvre benefit at the French museum, where she reckoned there were “zillions of billions of dollars” roaming through the halls. “Please, you’re so rich,” she entreated, auctioning off luxurious vacations to such bidders as Bianca Jagger, Maryvonne Pinault and Dasha Zhukova.

Zillions of billions of dollars! Why do governmental types so hate the elite when they’re clearly the solution to America’s rising deficit? Fortunately for all of us, W decided to dedicate this issue to participating in the national dialogue. Next month: the magazine’s plan to save Social Security!

W's "Honeys" Work Hard for the Money

W’s July article “Money Honeys” goes deep inside the world of hedge funds to reveal something you won’t read in the Wall Street Journal: beautiful women in Theory trousers are taking over finance! The magazine deems the topic “impossible to ignore.” Actually, what’s impossible to ignore is the way they make this supposed trend sound like a good thing.

You might think a magazine targeted at women would take a dim view of hiring decisions that frankly favor appearance over intelligence. You might even think this article would try to prove that the women in question are indeed intelligent, or at least include women who manage to succeed without “blond hair and spray tans.”

You’d be wrong!

For those who aren’t familiar with the machinations of high finance, W explains. Hedge funds operate on the same principle as strip clubs: men will gladly open their wallets to beautiful and/or accessible women.

One of the apparently few male marketing execs fills us in:

“[Investors] want a hot chick with a nice ass and nice boobs who is going to come in and sell the fund to them. I have a friend in the industry who is drop-dead gorgeous, and even she knows that’s the only reason she has her job.”

And women are catty?

“You meet these bimbos and they say, ‘Oh, I work at a hedge fund,’ and you think, What?!?” says one head of an investment bank who pals around with high net worth investors. “And then you realize, Oh, this is, like, the PR girl…”

Do women resent the implication that their success is due to their pulchritude? According to this article, not at all!

“The looks definitely help,” one blond, curvy female marketing director admits matter-of-factly.

All of the men in this piece are identified by their job titles, not their looks, by the way.

Still, W doesn’t want us readers to underestimate these women. In fact, the article describes the incredible lengths they go to in order to succeed:

“I had to start watching more television, like American Idol, so I could find some common ground with [investors’ wives].”

But being a woman in marketing isn’t solely about objectification! There are awesome benefits! First, from a male marketer:

“I have never, ever seen an ugly person in this role.”

Do you work in hedge fund marketing? Congratulations!  You’re conventionally attractive!

Second, even though they’re basically required to go on dates with clients, marketing executives are paid way better than escorts. Directors earn up to $2 million, while lower-level employees pull down between $200,000 and $500,000.

Not like they stay in the workforce for long, anyway. The third perk:

“It’s an easy access point to a rich husband,” he says. “These girls don’t talk to anyone worth less than $50 million.”

Of course, the acquisition of a wealthy man is the most important transaction these women will ever broker! Maddeningly, the article ends with that quote.

So let me get this straight: Male-dominated companies hire women (from modeling agencies, even) to charm clients out of cash, and then men slam these women in print for trading on their looks? Nice! The article mentions in passing that women in hedge funds struggle to be perceived as professionals. “Money Honeys” does them no favors, but even so, it’s the men in this scenario whose behavior I really have trouble taking seriously.

Debate Rages in W: Just How Beautiful is Charlize Theron?

We can all agree that Charlize Theron is a lovely woman, right? That might be why more than half of W’s June profile (imaginatively titled “Charlize Theron”) is about her looks. To be fair, this is a well-researched profile: writer Gabriel Snyder relies not just on the actress’ self-assessments of her appearance, but he also did the tireless footwork of finding multiple men who agree that Theron is fetching.  He even manages to inject his own evaluation of Theron’s attractiveness. So in-depth!

That’s not to say the topic of Theron’s appearance should be off limits. There’s a serious exploration to be done somewhere, though probably not in the pages of W, about why average-looking actresses aren’t cast to play average-looking characters, why a stunning actress downplaying her attributes wins awards (see Nicole Kidman in The Hours, Theron herself in Monster), and whether beauty is a liability to a performer who wants to do more than look hot onscreen.

But little of that makes it into this article. We get this instead:

In fact, the surest way to rile her is to suggest that she’s somehow “transformed” herself yet again in several post-Monster roles, among them, a female miner battling sexism in the Minnesota iron mines in the 2005 film North Country, a Tennessee detective (who’s a brunette) in 2007’s In the Valley of Elah, and, most recently, a desperate single mom in this year’s Sleepwalking.

Love the equation of brunette with less attractive. This is Theron’s rebuttal:

“Oh, no, you better not be bringing up ‘ugly,’” she admonishes when I broach the subject…But after [Monster], she points out, whenever she’s played “women in middle America living normal lives,” she’s heard cries of “ugly,” no matter what they looked like. “North Country was dirt. That’s what happens when you go into a mine. In the Valley of Elah—that’s when I took real offense, because that was just my real hair color and me with no makeup.”

Snyder again:

Looking at her, you have to conclude that Theron is being unduly self-deprecating, and that the truth lies somewhere between the red carpet and North Country.

Is that what you have to conclude? Can I conclude that she’s an actress whose job involves changing her appearance? Can I conclude that dithering over whether Theron is beautiful may be the least important and least interesting debate to ever make it into print?

But what does my opinion matter? Let’s get someone with a penis in here to settle this.

Her friend Woody Harrelson, her costar in North Country and Sleepwalking, notes that her glamour belies her tomboyishness… “She’s not like a delicate girl,” Harrelson says. “She’s like a classic broad, in terms of being a beautiful woman…”

Even when Hancock co-star Will Smith somehow manages to keep the focus on her talent, that sentiment is undermined by a quote about how she’s, like, totally hot.

“She seemed like the perfect actress to understand that this is funny, but this is a drama too,” says Smith… “What better way to make sure that texture is captured than [to hire] an Academy Award-winning actress? She brings the power and truth that Tommy Lee Jones brought to Men in Black.” She also brings her beauty, notes director Peter Berg. “Who is a better actress that looks like that? No one.”

The implication being that there are indeed better actresses, just none as statuesque as Theron?

Ultimately, the article veers away from her corporeal qualities long enough to mention her boyfriend, her desire to be a mother, and the difficulty women have veering between big-budget blockbusters and more thoughtful films. (Good news! That transition is “a lot easier for men”!)

In any case, there is far more space devoted to pictures of Theron than to text about her. Which, considering the overarching emphasis on how lovely she is, must be exactly the point.

Magazine Marriage Madness • What does Cosmopolitan consider the prime age for a marriage proposal? What did Allure’s second-time bride wear underneath her wedding gown? And what $950 bauble does W recommend for the “unconventional” bride? Find out all that, and more, in my index of June-issue intimacy advice on The Frisky.

W: Inside the "Fantasy" World of Hilary Swank

The January issue of W weighs in at a slim 112 pages, and 18 of those pages are devoted to “Wait Until Dark,” a so-called “erotic fashion fantasy” starring Hilary Swank and a male model whose slender build and bleached hair make him appear to be about 15 years old.  Is there anything sexy about these pictures?  Well, Swank’s bra is visible in two of the shots!  And the boy is bare-chested!   Scandalous!  Unless you’re fond of doves, blindfolds, and dudes with a tiny metal spike protruding from the lower lip, there isn’t a single interesting thing about this spread, with the possible exception of a “wool and coq feather vest” by Ann Demeulemeester as worn by aforementioned model, seen here with, oh yes, the aforementioned dove.

What the hell is that all about? 

We just don’t understand.  Why is he wearing a shirt collar with his necklaces?

What with the positively ludicrous, poorly lit “erotic fantasy” preceding it, we hoped for an equally dark interview.  And we got it!   Sort of.

Don’t expect to see Hilary Swank checking herself in at Promises any time soon.  But the actress does seem to have a bit of a pill problem.

Amphetamines?  Diet pills?  If only!  No, Swank takes a lot of vitamins, “nearly 45” every day, and gets in a nice plug for her nutritionist in explaining her daily intake.

A devotee of celebrity nutritionist Oz Garcia for the past seven years, Swank sees her regimen as one of the secrets to her success.  “Oz has changed my life.  The Longevity Pak is so awesome,” she says, eyes shining.

Only two paragraphs in, and our eyes are shining, too.  With tears of boredom.  The article segues into the usual: She has a high metabolism!  She’s on her second pastry of the day!  She was just on Oprah!  She’s really, really enthusiastic about everything! 

But here’s where it gets interesting.  After a boilerplate synopsis of P.S. I Love You, writer Catherine Hong spends three paragraphs taking Swank and her “mile-wide maw” (really!) down a notch.  There’s a thorough catalog of the actress’ box office flops and a discussion of Warner Bros. honcho Jeff Robinov announcing that the studio would no longer release films with female leads.  (Swank, for her part, claims it’s not clear whether he made that statement.)

And then the swipes continue:

…[Swank’s boyfriend] tagged along at events as run-of-the-mill (for A-listers, anyway) as an Escada store opening, a press event for Pantene and a lunch at the Hotel Bel-Air she hosted for Guerlain.

Two weird things there: the vaguely passive-aggressive “for A-listers, anyway” comment, and the failure to mention that Swank is actually the face of Guerlain fragrance Insolence.  Perhaps the latter can be explained by Guerlain’s lack of advertising is this issue?  (No hard feelings, W:  Swank is on the cover of BlackBook, which gives her a relentlessly cheerful profile, and Guerlain didn’t place an ad with them, either, though we did spot a full-page ad in the current issue of French Glamour.)

Next, Hong takes on the actress’ recent move to L.A.:

…the reasons she gives for abandoning the Big Apple are far from convincing.  “I looked and looked and looked for a place in New York.  I just didn’t find anything,” she insists.  “Prices have just skyrocketed!”  (For the record, she and [ex-husband] Lowe sold their four-floor town house on Charles Street for $7.5 million last January.)

Zing!

And this sort of awesome, though perhaps petulant, question when the topic turns to Swank’s boyfriend:

So, is she in love?  “Of course I’m in love,” she says somewhat curtly.  “Or I wouldn’t be in this relationship for as long as I’ve been…”

Ooh, surly!  Before the interview gets too out of hand, however, Hong wraps up with the typically effusive quotes from pals.  And then Swank trots out this statement, which is so frequently recited by celebrities that it must be handed to them on a laminated wallet-size card when they step off the plane at LAX.

“...You know, it’s tiring, but I can’t complain, because I’m getting to do what I love.”

Aww!  Picking apart your interview lets us do what we love, too!

W: Cash in Short Supply, Smugness Still Plentiful

If there’s one thing we’ve learned from reading W, it's that being wealthy is incredibly demanding.  The parade of evidence continues in December’s issue  with the article “Nouveaux Pauvres.”  Does the title make you hate it already?  Yeah, us too, but the subhead manages to be even worse!  “London’s new prosperity has once posh types feeling poor,” it says.  Uh, yeah.  Cry us a river.  For a moment, we entertained the faint hope that that the article would prove to be an intelligent discussion about the economy, inflation, and the state of the British pound.  No such luck!

We didn’t have to read too far into the article to discern that that piece serves primarily as a venue for the formerly wealthy (and still undeniably well-off) to complain about their lowered standard of living.  Like this guy, who “asked not to be named,” and no wonder:

“…there was my own kid, going to state school down at the bottom of the hill.  For the first time in my life, I felt working class.”

Aw, and to think this fellow grew up in a seven-bedroom home!  How the mighty have fallen!

To be fair, the article does cite some mind-boggling stats:  Britain’s housing prices have increased 52 percent in the last five years.  Skilled clerical temp workers are earning $400,000 a year working in finance, which is more than twice the salary of a fashion magazine editor-in-chief.  Which is a totally relevant and helpful salary comparison.  (Also, is being bitchy considered a skill?  If so, we’re moving.)  And, the article continues, prices at Abercrombie and Fitch are twice what they are in the U.S., like the people in this piece would ever deign to shop there.

Of course, there’s no explanation of why feeling (though not actually being) working class is so terrible, especially when, by all accounts, the people profiled still have more money than they could possibly need.  And the plight of those who truly are working class?  Ignored, natch.

At least those super-rich types are incredibly compassionate.  Or not so much.

One investment banker, who asked to remain anonymous [because he’s a total ass], said the vast majority of his colleagues would not be able to send their children to private schools… “Of course, it would be a real struggle for them, but you know, tough s---,” [sic] he says.  “That’s just the way it is now.”

Charming!

Fortunately for those who can still scrape up enough silver to send their kids to a private school, there are also establishments where they can gather to discuss their world-domination cabal and not have to worry about encountering the hoi polloi.  Yet another anonymous banker type (what is it with these guys?)  fills us in on the clubs that cater to wealthy men:

“True, it’s difficult to become a member, but once you’re in, membership costs almost nothing, you never have to fight to get a table, and the meals are considerably cheaper than Zuma,” says one London banker, referring to a top foodie haunt.

Oh, good!  The insanely wealthy are saving money!  The article goes on to further detail the adversity the wealthy face everyday in this new, cash-crazed England:

Some Londoners have caved and begun sending their kids to state schools or “the scruffier private schools”…

And:

Hector Macdonald….is seeking his fortune outside the UK.  He’s been snapping up houses, not in Belgravia but in Bulgaria, “because they’re cheap and it’s a good investment,” he says.

Still more!  An art collector (is that an actual profession? sounds like a hobby) with a net worth upwards of $20 million says:

“We’re ‘comfortably’ poor.  We’re swimming on the edges of real wealth.”  By that she means the sort of wealth that buys a private jet, or at the very least, an account with NetJets.  “The rich don’t fly commercial anymore,” she says.

Are your eyes filling with tears yet?  The struggles of the rich continue!

Helen Kirwan-Taylor, an American writer whose English husband heads up a hedge fund, is one of the only people on her block in Holland Park without a chauffeur. 

Kirwan-Taylor, at least, does acknowledge that there are worse problems than having to drive your own car:

“London is what it is because of the creative industries based here,” says Kirwan-Taylor.  “And if the intellectual body of the city—the artists, writers, designers, creative directors—can no longer afford to live here, that’s a big risk we’re taking.”

Perhaps those artsy types should just marry bankers like she did! 

Others predict the growing ranks of the discontented might well spur a new wave of creativity in literature and art.

Because, you know, being poor begets art.  The wealthy folk know all about that, because they saw Rent.  The stage production, even, not merely the movie!

The article wraps up with a brief paragraph about the action the government is considering to normalize the economy, then reminds us of who’s truly suffering in this situation.

But it might be too late for [Lady Kinvara] Balfour, who, like many young London professionals, is contemplating a move abroad.  “You can do so much more with your money in America,” she says.

Indeed!  In this great land, the rich can revert to feeling superior to the rest of us.

Brad and Jen Reunited at the Newsstand

…thanks to some clever merchandising at our local mega-chain bookstore.

Related: There are nine different covers for the current issue of W, but the only ones we’ve seen at the newsstands and stores in our little corner of L.A. are Jennifer Aniston and Angelina Jolie (and Angelina landed in our mailbox a couple of days back).  Is this a coincidence, or are the covers specific to particular regions?  Where are you, and what covers are available in your area?

W Hopes Someone's Still Taking Sides in Celebrity Feud

The second annual Art Issue of W is out…and with dueling covers!  Such classy, current covers they are, too!  And economical, too, using paparazzi photos of Jennifer Aniston and Angelina Jolie for the cover instead of, you know, staging an actual photo shoot.  Or do they have to pay a residual to Brad Pitt for referring to his marital troubles?

Last year’s first-ever Art Issue is nominated for ASME’s 2007 Best Cover Award.  Somehow, we doubt these covers are going to be nominated for anything, unless some organization offers awards for Most Likely to Resemble the Cover of US Weekly and Trying Hardest to Cash In On an Outdated Celebrity Scandal. 

So which one will you buy?  We’re leaning toward Aniston.  Or maybe we’ll just pick up the latest issue of Star instead.

Edit:  There are actually nine covers: Nicole Kidman, Lindsay Lohan, Cameron Diaz, Katie Holmes, Jennifer Aniston, Julia Roberts, Jessica Simpson, Angelina Jolie, and Britney Spears.  Apparently, this is what W considers art.