Blog Posts by Glamour Magazine

Are you all familiar with the "push" present? It's the gift a man gives his wife after the birth of their child (you can read up on it in this Times article). It's on my mind today because three friends referenced them in the past three days--one was showing off hers (a necklace), another was speculating on what she thinks she'll be getting (she's eight months pregnant) and the third was talking about one of her friends whose husband ran out after watching his wife go through four hours of labor and bought her diamonds. Gag me. I endured 12 hours of atrociousness (the full story coming soon) and got nada...oh yeah, except a perfect, healthy, beautiful baby boy. And MRSA.

I have to admit, the whole idea of this kind of skeeves me out. Or maybe it's just the name I don't like. Having pushed (and pushed and pushed) and knowing what that actually means and feels like, I can't help cringing when I hear the phrase. Or maybe I'm just a hater because my husband is not a big present

Disclaimer: I do not dislike Heidi Montag from The Hills. I mean, I don't LIKE Heidi Montag either: I'm apathetic. Look, she's not hurting anybody. She's annoying, but weren't you when you were 21? When I was that age, all I did was talk about myself and my lame boyfriend and the massive fight we'd had at the club the night before-and sadly, when I recapped the whole mess the next day, no one ever cut me a check or put me on the cover of Us Weekly.

That said, the founder of this new bath and body line is totally Elodie, the girl who trashes Heidi Montag in season three and calls her out on not having any friends except for Spencer! "You don't even know what's wrong or what's right anymore," she tells Heidi. "And ... it's so sad."

Elodie's name makes her sound like she lives in the 7th and wears an A.P.C. raincoat, but really, though authentically half-French, she's based in Los Angeles and watches The Bachelor and Gossip Girl-at least according to her MySpace profile. I

When this week's episode of America's Next Top Model opened with a Whitney confessional, I actually moaned out loud. Esteban, who was fleeing the room in a Pavlovian response to the question "You Wanna Be On Top?" replied, "Oh come on, now, just because she's the first one doesn't mean she's going home." "Yes it doooooooooooes!" I wailed. Ever since the Top Editors started repetitively reminding us that Whitney is a plus-sized model and also, a plus-sized model, I've been cringing that the token thick girl's exit strategy was approaching. And now that her body is mostly uncovered on the final fade-out collage, it's only a matter of time until she's outtie. Especially when the pre-models travel to Roma and immediately Whitney is faced yet again with the disaster that is a designer's sample size rack. Sample sizes are 2, and from a previous episode, we know that this girl they call a "plus-sized" model is wearing a size 10.They do eventually find something for her (I suspect it was a

Eat this, not that, avoid chemmies, don't eat a lot of fat, skip the fake sugar...argh! I'm getting overwhelmed by what I can and cannot put in my mouth this week. This week, I made a concerted effort to eat more fruits and veggies and then I realized that my gorgeous organic strawberries that are one of the few things that I would happily choose over a McGriddle have a tremendously guilty amount of carbs. Not carbohydrates...carbon points. You see, they were flown in from Mexico. And my apples came from California, along with the Driscoll's raspberries that are oh-so-delicious. And the banana I ate as a snack while watching America's Next Top Model? It came from Colombia. A single airplane flight throws more nasty crap into the air than an entire year of driving a gas-guzzling SUV. What's a girl to do if our food choices affect more than just her own body, but also the fate of the entire freaking planet? I don't know that I'm going to survive the post-Earth Day guilt.

It's one thing

In more diet sensationalism, the National Enquirer has a fabulous cover this week, clutching its collective pearls over HOLLYWOOD'S DEADLIEST DIETS, including a full-body fatty picture of Beth Ditto with a black box over her face because their accusation of eating fried chicken and ice cream is just too shameful to look her in the face. What do all of the stars on the cover have in common? Every single one of them has a vagina.

What is it with the fascination with what women put in their mouths? Even the supposedly gender neutral (and seemingly dormant) website Celebrities Eating has women at the focus in 16 out of last 20 posts. And check out Buzzfeed's mention of this trend should be called "Female Celebrities Eating," because all 28 posts are about women. Rachel examined this sociological preoccupation with women and competitive eating, and I suspect this is tied to our preoccupation with looking at Heidi Klum bellying up to a plate of ribs. A recent Allure article has also noticed

I am so upset I can't even post a picture. I came home yesterday with a flat of corn starts to plant in my vegetable beds, and as I walked by my ornamental pomegranate (why couldn't the original owner of the house have put in a fruiting one instead? Sigh...) I noticed something was different. It took me a little while to figure out what it was - everything was off, though. Suddenly, I realized that the toyon that hangs over my fence and mingles beautifully with my pomegranate was gone. As in GONE - chopped down! My neighbors are building a fence, and instead of figuring out how to accommodate the beautiful California native tree, they killed it.

Now I know it was their tree, but it was a very important part of what gardeners call my "borrowed view". I even posted about it last year! Is it wrong for me to be hating on my neighbors right now? I know this isn't a big deal to them, what do they care about one tree or another? But they know I loved that tree. Just like they knew I

Today we introduce our smokin' hot new segment called the Friday Beefcake, and we find out what is really going on underneath Bret Micheal's bandana. Plus, O.J. Simpson wants to work for Donald Trump on The Celebrity Apprentice. And astrology teacher Amy McKeever teaches Kim about the stars, and we don't mean LiLo.

Want more from The Daily Special? Check us out on Elastic Waist.

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• Read up on the latest book club picks from Elastic Waist
• Celebs: Elastic Waist dishes on the latest celebrity gossip

Is it that I've been under a rock, sleeping off ding-dong comas, so I've only just magically become aware of the insane prevalence of eating disorders? Or is it that we're finally becoming more aware of how many people suffer from damaged relationships with their bodies and food, and we're finally talking about it? Over the past few years, disordered eating seems to becoming, to an extent yet unprecedented, part of the national debate. Women are recognizing themselves in these stories, and asking for help, and trying to figure out how the hell to make peace with their bodies.

I think that's what gets me the most about Hungry: it's the story of a guy who figured out he had an eating disorder, and how, and what working through it and living a normal life requires. It is a little terrifying, to consider the effort that it requires; the dedication and the effort that is required to live with an eating disorder.

But here's something it also brings up for me: it makes me worry that all