Blog Posts by Glamour Magazine

  • Rant: American Big Fat Idol

    One of the most lovely theories behind the popular show American Idol is that a normal kid with an amazing voice just hasn't, for whatever reason, been exposed to the Hollywood media machine, so the media machine goes out and finds them. However, the most disheartening facet of the show is that they take a pretty normal, moderately well-adjusted kid and then throw them to the wolves. Hey, whaddya expect, it's Hollywood, right?

    A member of this season's Top 12, Carly Smithson nee Hennessey (she of the lovely voice, amazing eyes and lilting Irish accent) has been down the media hype road before; in fact, she was MCA Records' chosen one a few years ago, set up like a kept woman to put together a carefully generated pop album that didn't do so well. During this time in captivity, Red3 points out, this wisp of a girl posted some self-hate talk on her refrigerator, ostensibly to remind herself that she doesn't deserve to eat because she is fat. Except, she's not. Not by a long shot.

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  • I Have Big Boobs and am Not a @#$% Much

    You know what's funny? You see a lot of misogyny in the gossip blogs. Okay, that's not funny. It's something that pisses me off. Ha ha! I'm trying to laugh about it. Take this header for example. Nicole Richie isn't a brain trust, but at no point does she refer to her postnatal breasts as "@#$%y." She does say that wearing some of her pre-maternity gauzy shirts with said mommy boobs would look too @#$%y, but big boobs = @#$%y? Didn't say it. But Owen Williams of Showbiz Spy thinks that there's really not a difference there.

    I don't know, I've always considered "@#$%y" as an adjective that described an action. Like, "Making out with some girl at a bar when you're married is so @#$%y." Although I can understand the idea that maybe it's a comparison, like referring to your awesome new "hooker heels." For instance, I wouldn't think that Britain's Katie Price is a @#$% just because she's always scantily clad (and has big boobs), but the tabs like to call her one. I do, however, love the

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  • In Dreams: Sarah Jessica Parker's Little Blue Coat

    All right, here's an embarrassing confession: The other night I was home alone and there was nothing on TV, so I turned to HBO on Demand and started watching old Sex and the City episodes. It was the first season, I think, and SJP looked so pretty and bouncy and young. In one scene she went to the opera with Stanford and was wearing the most awesome bright-but-not-too-bright blue coat with an all-black outfit and red lipstick. Even nearly a decade after that episode was shot, the outfit had me entirely obsessed. So then I went to bed. And this is where it gets really embarrassing: I DREAMT ABOUT THE COAT. Then I woke up and I bought this on eBay, which I can't wait to wear on rainy-ish April days with sleek black rain boots, bare legs, and little dresses. You can find others of the same ilk (including a well-priced version from Burberry!) here and here and here.

    Related Links from Lucky:

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  • Love Korres' SPF 30 Sunscreen

    Once a year, I-and all my fellow beauty editors from all the other magazines-spend a week in Boca Raton, FLA communing with executives of all ilks from various cosmetic companies. It is no one's favorite task; this year, temperatures plunged upon our arrival, rendering our carefully packed warm-weather outfits utterly ridiculous. Ridiculous or no, nobody packed anything else, so every meeting was a flurry of floral sundresses, strappy sandals, blue lips, and chattering teeth. It's hard to think of sunscreen when you're battling hypothermia, but the sun was in fact out, and I do claim to be a beauty editor. I fell in love with Korres' SPF 30, which smells like watermelon-pleasantly, not overwhemingly-and goes on like a dream. Best of all, it comes in a tiny size so you can take in your makeup bag and use it often, which is what you need with sunscreen, especially hands, because you're always washing them-that is, if they haven't frozen solid.

    -Jean Godfrey-June, beauty director


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  • Elastic Waist Book Club of Doom: In Defense of Food

    Michael Pollan's last book, The Omnivore's Dilemma, followed four meals from origin to the dinner table, and uncovered how Americans eat, and what exactly it is they're eating. It wasn't all pretty. His new book, In Defense of Food: An Eater's Manifesto, suggests--crazily!--that we'd be so much healthier if we ate fewer processed and packaged things, and far more in the way of real, live, fresh food. It sounds like common sense, but it's also kind of a revolution. Why do we eat the crap we're eating, and why does real food need to be defended? From whom? We're all eaters--do we really need a manifesto? Is healthy eating in that much trouble?

    We'll be talking about In Defense of Food for this next installment of the Elastic Waist Book Club of Doom. Pick it up, read it through, and let's see if we microwave anything for dinner anytime soon. We'll start talking about it on Friday. In the meantime, check out the official site, listen to an interview with Pollen on NPR, read The New York

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  • The "Guess Your Weight" Game, Only You Don't Win a Teddy Bear When He's Wrong

    In this week's OK! Magazine, there's some rando nutritionist guessing the weights and BMIs of starlets who have been accused of being too thin by the press. First of all, how messed up is this? I would like to point out that fitness and nutrition expert Harold Palacios (translation: he's really just a personal trainer) has not treated these women or probably ever even met them in person, so I'm guessing that he's sizing up the very same pictures that we're looking at in the magazine.

    Secondly, the guestimates seem wildly off base. He guesses that Kate Beckinsale, at 5'8", weighs 118 pounds while Renée Zellweger, who is four inches shorter than Kate, presumably weighs 115. At risk of getting a little too Rian, are we really expected to believe that Kate, whose shoulders look round, toned and healthy, has a lower BMI than Renée? Does Renée have unnaturally dense bones that can be assessed by Mr. Palacios? It's almost like Mr. Palacios has an agenda and is artificially inflating the

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  • Notes from the Couch: Sucks to be a Girl on The Biggest Loser

    My Tivo didn't record last week's The Biggest Loser, much to my dismay, and apparently the episodes are like gold and not available for download or streaming anywhere on the Internet. What's the good of living in the electronic age if I can't watch bad reality television whenever I want? Bah. Anyway, I missed the tragic ousting of my beloved Berndana, which is probably a good thing because I think I might have cried just a little bit or perhaps grabbed my hair and shouted "O the humanity!" But apparently, plot twist and Berndana is back, along with every other Loser who had been voted off! They get to weigh-in and the guy and girl who has lost the highest percentage of body weight will be back on the show.

    But seeing Berndana back is totally bittersweet, because that stupid Bossy Boston Brother postulated in his exit interview that he, along with Alli, would be in the final four. Since he had just been eliminated and Alli was gone a long time ago, the only possible explanation for the

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  • Diet Secrets of the Stars

    Nothing new to see here in this "diet" secrets of the stars rundown. In summation: to be red carpet ready, you either take drugs, abuse laxatives, nicotine patches or caffeine, acquire gymrexia, follow the old fashioned starvation method, or pick up glamorous habits like chain smoking. The hard boiled egg diet, allegedly followed by either Renée Zellweger or Nicole Kidman, is a new one, and there is something profoundly sad about these beautiful women like Marcia Cross going to restaurants to sit there watching someone eat while they limit themselves to mineral water. I kind of love that Gunnar Peterson has renamed the Master Cleanse lemonade diet the "You're An Idiot Diet." In fact, Gunnar just might be my new favorite trainer guy, because he also calls out some fluffhead for lying about how hard she works out:
    I had one actress who trained with me and took six Spin classes a week. And all she ate was lettuce and Swedish Fish. When the press asked her how she'd 'transformed' her

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  • Nesting: Editors' reading nooks

    On Monday we showcased some of your reading nooks, and we were so inspired that we decided to take you into Cookie's editors' homes to show more. See where the kids of our editor-in-chief, photo editor, and features director plop down with a good book.

    "Until he stopped taking naps about a year ago, my son Henry used to snooze in the nook for a couple of hours every day. In addition to a reading and lounging corner for the family, the spot also serves as a make-believe spaceship, and fire and garbage truck. The nook was originally intended to be a closet, but we realized it was large enough to fit a queen-size bed. My husband used extra fabric from coverlet and pillows to upholster a little footboard (we had some scrap walnut) so the bed frame wasn't exposed." -- Pilar Guzman, Editor-in-Chief

    "My daughter can't actually read yet, but she loves quiet time in her room where she pretends to be reading to her teddy bears. We edged the couch near the window for light, and

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  • Nesting: Readers' Book Nooks

    Nothing beats curling up with a babe in one arm and a book in the other (especially one of our 33 all-time favorite reads). Some Cookie readers have even created nooks in their homes where their children can sneak off to hang out with a boa constrictor or (gasp) eat spinach for dessert. Here are a few of these cozy spots...

    Kiet flipped this box to make a reading space. He put his soft toys inside and topped it with his Lego creations. -- Esther from the Netherlands.

    My three-year-old son John loves Richard Scarry more than anything in his little world. He loves to sit by himself and "read," but can usually talk my husband, his older siblings or me into reading to him. He's very persuasive (and persistent). -- Tess from Kansas City.

    Mason reads whatever he can get his mitts on. If you're sitting cross-legged on the floor, you'd better watch out because he'll come over, hand you a book, say "Ree??" and plop into your lap. I figured he deserved his own quiet

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