It's Called Depression, Dumbass.

This week's US Weekly and Star lead with cover stories on weight loss among the already-trim and Tinseltowned. HOLLYWOOD'S REVENGE DIETS! blares US. ANGELINA ANOREXIC? screams Star.

Problem is, most women know that things like, say, divorces (Reese) and parental deaths (Angelina) are events that cause grief. And these same women know that with grief, comes weight-loss. It's a law of the universe. The same way that Russell Crowe = total fucktard.

It's Called Depression, Dumbass.

There are, of course, the few girls who eat more when they're unhappy, but that's usually a consequence of low-level dysthymia, not full blown, can-I-make-it-through-the-day? despair. It's the latter that causes weight loss: the quick, severe, I-look-so-hot-yet-feel-so-bad type of anguish. Everyone woman we know says that she never feels worse - or looks hotter in a pair of tight jeans - than after the end of a serious relationship. Fucked up, that.

So, just a brief note to Janice Min and Bonnie Fuller: "diets" and "anorexia" suggest some sort of choice in the matter (or the intervention of Rachel Zoe); they give the impression of willful starvation or drug-use that inevitably leads to treatment for exhaustion or consultation with a nutritionist (see Richie, Nicole; Olsen, Mary Kate). This ain't that.