YOUR FRIENDS' ACTIVITY

    Blog Posts by Glamour Magazine

    • Bibs for grown-ups

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      I've been on a bit of a jewelry kick lately and wanting to try things I never have before. Like vintage bib necklaces. They're so big, awesome, and outfit-making. They're the kinds of pieces that will make women you don't even know come up to you and say, "I love your necklace." (At least this is how it goes in my fantasy life.) Plus, you can wear them with absolutely the simplest look-I'm thinking a black skirt, black tee, and tights and heels. I like these today on eBay: a geometric gold and ivory version, this amazing/outlandish disco style, which literally looks like a bib, and this striking silver-chains look, which is equal parts '60s-ladylike and rocker-chic.Picture_7Picture_5

      Related: Indulge your inner stylist with this edge-y way to rock a long necklace.

      More from Lucky:

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    • Making your very own apple butter

      weetabix_apples.jpgPhoto courtesy of WeetabixThe farmer's market season is wrapping up here in the upper Midwest. The leaves are turning gold and russet and the crops are withering as the colder air settles in. Already last Saturday, I noticed bare spots between the usual market vendors and assume that it means that the usual flowers and tomatoes have given up the ghost with last week's frost. I love the way that the farmer's market shows the passing of the season: we started with strawberries, spring greens and asparagus and then moved to cherries, blueberries, and cucumbers, and now it's all pumpkins and apples and frost-hearty fare like Brussels sprouts and potatoes.

      Get the most out of a trip to the farmers' market with these amazing, healthy recipes.

      I managed to capture some of the ephemeral nature of the season by heartily embracing the art of making jam this summer (my favorite is still the strawberry/marsala/rosemary), but now that fall is here, I'm going back to my roots. You see, when I was a dirt-poor college

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    • Amazingly realistic eyebrows from Completely Bare

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      My great aunt draws on her brows: two thick Sharpie-like lines--straight across. By mid-afternoon, they've melted all over her face in the Florida heat.

      I'm paranoid about ending up completely browless. I worry over every tiny gap and sparse patch, especially the inner corner of my right brow, which I religiously fill in with powder every morning. (Here's how you can get the perfect eyebrows right at home!)

      Permanent makeup has been suggested, but a tattoo on my face seems ... extreme, right?

      At the opening of the new Completely Bare downtown on Bond Street in New York City, owner Cindy Barshop convinced me to try her latest service, the Barshop Brow--like eyelash extensions for your eyebrows--right there in the middle of the party. An aesthetician meticulously glued 20 tiny fibers to my skimpy right brow until it matched the left perfectly. It took 10 minutes--after which I ran around asking other beauty editors: "Can you tell that my eyebrow is fake?"

      It

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    • Emails from strangers: Should I get weight-loss surgery?

      I get a lot of emails from people, all of them pretty much universally wonderful. Mostly it is kind words, or continuing a conversation I start with a post, or stuff that is too personal to share in the comments, or providing me with very important information that I had previously lacked (most notably, about breakfast places in Salt Lake City and interesting medical facts. But not in the same email.). I love the letters I get and the readers we've got. Every single one is like Christmas! Generally speaking in a figurative way. Sometimes, though, I get the emails that give me pause.

      They're not terrible, or hurtful, and they're not even in any way a bad thing, these emails, but every single time one appears in my inbox, I hesitate, get uncomfortable, set it aside to think about and end up thinking about it for far too long, ending up sending embarrassingly delayed and rushed responses. I have been terrible with returning emails in the past, am trying to get better with it, here

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    • Just for the taste of it: How Diet Coke affects fertility

      diet_coke_.jpgRemember that old urban legend about how you can douche with Coca-Cola after sex and it acts as a spermicide? Well, turns out that scientists have found that Diet Coke totally does kill sperm:

      "To see if Coke really worked, Anderson, Umpierre and Hill mixed four different types of Coke with sperm in test tubes. A minute later, all sperm were dead in the Diet Coke, but 41 percent were still swimming in the just-introduced New Coke (The New England Journal of Medicine, vol. 313, p. 1351). But that's not good enough, Anderson warns. Sperm "can make it into the cervical canal, out of reach of any douching solution, in seconds"--faster than anyone could shake and apply a bottle of Diet Coke." (Source)

      However, another group of scientists replied with "Oh no you di'int!" and reported the converse. Just the same, kind of makes you want to rethink your 2 p.m. caffeine and Nutrasweet fix, doesn't it?

      Forget Diet Coke, here's why you need to choose your contraception carefully!

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    • Life with Cancer: How crazy do you get when you're waiting for medical results?

      1015-lea-billy-kimo_lc.jpgLea with her hubby, Billy, and dog, Kimo

      It's been way too long since we've heard from our favorite guest blogger, Lea. And...here she is. We missed you, Lea!

      Hi everyone! It's Lea checking in, 10 whole months from my bone marrow transplant and doing really well. I am currently PCRU (they can't find the leukemia after looking at hundreds of cells) but I am waiting to hear back about my 9-month PCR test any day now. I get these tests done every three months. I had an appointment last Tuesday at UCSF with the transplant nurse. All of my labs look great but I am still so anxious about receiving the all-telling PCR test back (it has been over three weeks!). I spent the first two years with CML always getting "suboptimal" PCR results (their word, not mine!) but the past two PCR tests have been great and the nurse told me that I could just "wait" until my next appointment to find out the results. She said she was not concerned about them at all. Ha! Well, that makes one of us.

      Do all you can to avoid cancer with this Read More »from Life with Cancer: How crazy do you get when you're waiting for medical results?
    • Perfumes of the Stars: Tabloid Edition!

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      One more time, with scandal!

      Jude Law's ex-wife and former Frost French designer Sadie Frost and his ex-fiancee before-he-slept-with-the-nanny Sienna Miller wear Penhaligon's Bluebell--weird! Also, back before Kate Moss--BFF of Sadie--came out with her own gorgeous fragrance, she also wore Bluebell. Kate and Sienna have also shared various male model/rock-star, perhaps-Bluebell-enchanted boyfriends. Dramz!

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      Over in L.A., Nicole Richie wears Majenty Hidden Cove--and so does Haylie Duff, sister of Nicole's baby's father Joel Madden's ex-girlfriend Hilary! Nicole has also worn Quelques Fleurs by Houbigant (Lucky, in fact, was first to disclose this information in our February 2006 issue)--and so does her friend Nicky Hilton.

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      And finally, Blake Lively loves the intriguingly named Ooh La La Shimmering Fragrance Mist, which I couldn't find on the Internet but which sounds like something Serena van der Woodsen generously picks up for the maid when she's waiting for

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    • Loving yourself. Pun intended.

      Sometimes in magazines you will see an article about loving yourself and coming to terms with your body. Usually it means standing naked in front of a mirror and examining every inch of your skin with love and compassion. Or running yourself a bubble bath and lighting candles and floating for an hour, gently caressing your flesh and chanting some kind of mantra about your beautiful bosoms, your lovely limbs, your sensual stomach, and your fine, fine ass. (Here's how our pal Kim fell in love with her body.)

      Once you get over the absolute goofiness and get past the self-consciousness, romancing your body is a very fine way to come to terms with it. It is a way of learning to look at it with happiness and touch yourself with kindness and feel good about the skin you came into the world and ended up with. Too often we divorce ourselves from our bodies when we decide they are too ugly to deal with, to look at, or to think about. They become the monster under the bed, growing in horror and

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    • Do you get at least two hours of physical activity in per week?

      The US government is famous for not being able to make up its mind when it comes to our health (ever changing food pyramid much?), but the Department of Health and Human Services has issued guidelines on the bare minimum exercise by every single person to achieve health. Their quota is 2 hours of exercise per week, split up however you want to slice or dice it, 20 minutes a day for six days or a two hour bike ride on Saturdays. They do offer some stipulations on the guidelines:

      • For aerobic activities, go at least 10 minutes at a time to build heart rate enough to count.
      • You should be able to talk while doing moderate activities but not catch enough breath to sing. With vigorous activities, you can say only a few words without stopping to catch a breath.
      • Children's daily hour should consist of mostly moderate or vigorous aerobic activity, such as skateboarding, bike riding, soccer, or running.
      • Three times a week, children and teens need to include muscle-strengthening
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    • Crabmommy: How to deal with rude mommies

      There's a species of Rude Mommy that really tweaks my vibe: the mother who can't take a compliment about her kid without being smug in response.

      Today I encountered a delightful, impish toddler at the grocery checkout. When I complimented the mom on her charming little daughter she responded with "Yup, we got a good one." Say, whaa? Let's pause here for a moment. I tell Mom her kid is cute and her response is to heap another compliment for herself on top of mine? We got a good one. That's a line I've heard before in various ways--haven't we all? It's a variation on that whole "We're really blessed"/"We're really lucky" schtick mamas are prone to when talking about their children, words that may not seem offensive at first, but what Mom's really saying is that her kid's a superior sort of tyke, which implies that other kids are inferior, turning a simple compliment into a competition with winners and losers.

      Now, I realize that when folks say this stuff they don't mean to be

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