As might be expected given that there were three editors of Condé Nast flagship publications present, the discussion — moderated by New Yorker media critic Ken Auletta — mainly turned on commonalities between the magazines, namely the souring economy and the internet. (Yes, this thing you are reading. Graydon Carter thinks a lot about it.)

Wintour, dressed in brown suede kitten heeled boots, a brown satiny skirt, oatmeal knit top, and a grey jacket with a large fur collar that did her lapel mic an injury midway through the audience questions, was the first to bring up the recession. "Right now we're in difficult times, but I think it makes you a little edgier," she said. "Out of bad times can come great magazines." Remnick took a similar tack: "Editors have to keep a clear eye and do what they have to do. I think magazines—ones that mean something—have a future."

In response to a question from Auletta about whether the economic downturn poses temporary or fundamental problems for magazine publishing, Wintour cautioned first against "over-reacting."

"I see a lot of people in my industry who are over-reacting. Stores that are over-discounting, designers who are creating collections for the price and what sells rather than to reflect who they are." Straitened times, she said, should not mean the end of luxury. It takes a special understanding of the world — wasn't the Dow just below 8,000? And aren't advertising pages in this month's Vogue down 22% compared with last December's issue? — to frame the fashion industry's biggest problem right now as charging too little for its wares.

Still, Wintour did offer what might pass for a glimmer of understanding. Recently, a sequined mini-dress "not much bigger than your shirt, Graydon" came through the Vogue offices, on request for a photo shoot. When she found out the garment retailed at $50,000, Wintour said she told everyone, "I'm sorry, but we're not putting that in the magazine, no matter how magical Steven Meisel thinks it is." (Of course, just this September, Vogue featured an entire article about a $64,300 gold-dipped mink coat. I guess it's lucky the issue closed before Lehman did.)

When asked about the internet, Wintour took a surprisingly pragmatic view. She recalled how this past season when Alessandra Facchinetti was fired from Valentino after less than 10 months as head designer, she learned the news backstage, before the show began, and got the scoop online. (The announcement was to have been made at the show's conclusion.) "It was a horrific, horrific situation," Wintour continued. "I mean, [Facchinetti] was weeping backstage, telling the whole awful story."

Remnick mentioned how last week's attacks in Mumbai came too late for the New Yorker's deadline — but contributor Steve Coll, an experienced reporter who'd covered Lakshar-e-Taiba before, wrote a post about it to one of the magazines blogs. (Imagine that, using your website to keep your magazine's coverage up-to-date.) "Do we compete with the Internet? I don't know what that means. We compete with specific sources...It's foolish for me to think the magazine is this thing that comes once a week, and then there's this business over here [online]," Remnick said. "It is all the New Yorker."

In fact, only Carter seemed a little troubled in his understanding of the web. "What's the point of duplicating the magazine and putting it all on the web for free?" he asked, rhetorically. (Uh, so people can, I dunno, read it?) Later he compared the internet to a supermarket, and his magazine to a gourmet restaurant. He claimed he didn't see the web as a threat, though his language was a tad on the antagonistic side: "If you're in the business of telling long stories with great pictures, it's going to be a while before the internet takes that away."

Remnick — who does post all of his magazine's content online — had the most realistic approach. "The internet is a system of distribution," he said. Of the three, the New Yorker editor seemed to best grasp how the web could be employed to enhance his publication's reach.

When Auletta asked about the way Condé Nast's readership skews older, Carter joked, "Sometimes people ask me how to get a 21-year-old reader, and I say, 'Wait eight years. He'll read when he's 29.'" Wintour claimed Condé chief S.I. Newhouse had never asked her to seek younger readers. "I'm thinking of a discerning person," she claimed, "whether they're 16 or 62 doesn't matter to me."

The elephant in the room, naturally, was Wintour's rumored retirement. Neither Auletta, nor the audience members who got to ask questions, addressed the item directly. (Apparently low balls like "Which magazines did you read growing up?" were thought to be more important.) However, when asked indirectly about the "next step," Wintour denied she would be retiring.

"My father always said to me, 'The day you get too angry, that's the time to stop.' The day I get too angry is the day I take up gardening."

I suppose there we have it. For now.

Earlier: 3 Reasons We Hope The Wintour/Roitfelt Rumor Is True

Related: Wintour Said Replaced By French Counterpart [Gawker]

Anna Wintour Says She Has 'No Plans' to Leave Vogue; What Would It Take? 'The Day I Get Too Angry' [NY Observer]

1. Fewer Celebrity Covers
The formula for a typical American Vogue cover under Wintour goes like this: A celebrity, probably with a film to promote, posed in some self-conscious location, often outdoors, photographed full or 3/4 length, with an awkward expression, PhotoShopped to approach the point of plasticine unrecognizability. The styling is stagey, overproduced, and 80s.

Since Wintour took over in 1988, American Vogue began featuring more celebrity covers than ever before—a cancerous, fashion-averse trend that has since spread through the women's magazine industry. At first, the covers were said to improve sales: readers were motivated to pick up the issue to read the profile of the celeb within more than they were by cover images of models, who have always held a much more circumscribed kind of fame. You could even make the argument that for a magazine such as Vogue, which seeks out the independent, successful, working reader, giving more covers to women for what they do as opposed to what they look like was an empowering step of sorts.

But the celebrity cover has had two negative effects: firstly, it's made Vogue's fashion dumber, since celebrities inevitably go about posing for fashion magazines as though it's a promotional drudgery they only put up with for the benefit of the latest terribly important film they starred in, and they always come phalanxed with minders whose entire purpose in life is to insure that the celebrity never cede too much control of her image. It limits the creativity of all involved, and drains the resulting images of the drama and charisma that resides in the best fashion photography. Secondly, the prevalence of the celebrity cover has caused an inevitable gerrymandering of the definition of "celebrity"—meaning that instead of our magazines periodically serving up interesting in-depth profiles of only the best actresses, singers and public figures, we get puff pieces that examine the inner musings of Kate Bosworth and Jessica Simpson faster than they can think them up. And according to circulation figures, readers have grown weary of being told 23-year-old Keira Knightley's life story several times per annum.

Vogue shouldn't be a promotional arm of the film industry: it should be a luxury fashion magazine. And Carine Roitfeld understands this. Paris Vogue's covers are striking and evocative; there's no formula in evidence. Models frequently take the honors, because whose image is more easily molded to suit the story of the moment than a model's? A Hollywood ingénue, like as not, has neither the look nor the inclination to pull off, say, an all-black avant-garde ensemble. Or a wacky couture gown constructed out of 15 yards of orange silk. But you can find a model who can. And Roitfeld consistently does just that.

And when she does feature a celebrity on her cover, Roitfeld doesn't put her through the generic setting, lighting and retouching that makes American Vogue covers so sameish. Behold Charlotte Gainsbourg, whose magnificent aquiline nose would've been doubtless rhinoplastied into submission with the liquify tool over at American Vogue:

Or what about this 2004 Madonna cover? It's a vivid shot of a legitimately interesting icon — and it's not easy to find a compelling way to shoot and style a woman who's been photographed millions of times. Roitfeld, unlike Wintour, does not fear the close crop. I want to travel back in time just so I can buy this magazine.

Under Carine Roitfeld my bet is American readers would finally be treated to more interesting and more varied covers, featuring singularly striking images of whoever embodied the given moment best — not just more portraits of some pretty so-and-sos who can give empty quotes about a (probably average) movie.

2. Diversity
In March of 2007, Jennifer Hudson became the first black woman to grace a cover of American Vogue since a 2005 Liya Kebede cover. Under Wintour's leadership, readers ought not expect more than one black woman on a cover every 2-3 years. All told, 14 black women have made the cover alone, and another 4 have been included in group covers, in the publication's 116-year history.

As for Vogue Paris, I can bring to mind several very recent black cover subjects. Naomi Campbell and Kate Moss had a cover together in February.

Noémie Lenoir had a solo cover in June/July. (Half the print run featured a Laetitia Casta cover with identical lighting, styling, and pose.)

And who can forget the cover that introduced the world to André J, a bearded drag queen who was chosen after a chance meeting with Bruce Weber and Roitfeld? (Which shows the kind of freewheeling spontaneity that can go into a Vogue Paris cover, and which American Vogue's triangulated, procedural covershots under Wintour conspicuously lack.)

Obviously people of color are a part of Carine Roitfeld's conception of fashion in a way they simply aren't at American Vogue. Fashion as an industry still struggles with racism, despite the fact that black women spend more than $20 billion a year on apparel, despite the fact that closing issue after issue without a single editorial page devoted to a model of color ought to be a source of shame for any editor-in-chief, and despite the fact that it is the damn 21st century. Roitfeld's approach would be a welcome change.

3. Creative Freedom

At virtually every shoot I do, the photographer and the fashion editor come prepared with materials for inspiration. Sometimes it's as elaborate as a bulletin board covered in location snapshots, iconic art photography, historic or news shots, and tear sheets from magazines, where the images together inform the story of the shoot, or even just the mood. (Other times it's as simple as a post-it in a Tim Walker book that points to the picture the client would most like to rip off.) Either way, there are always a million magazines on set for supplementary inspiration, or just to stave off boredom. And during the hours it takes to set up, everyone flicks through the titles, searching for an image that might help inform the inchoate ideas. Fashion people are rarely highly verbal, and to aesthetes, the right picture means a lot.

At the danger of putting words in her mouth, I believe this was what Anna Wintour was getting at when she said that "If you look at any great fashion photograph out of context, it will tell you just as much about what's going on in the world as a headline in the New York Times." One can talk all day about how fashion reflects the world; the million little tells it betrays to anyone who cares to notice, like how a certain kind of soutache embroidery became popular in Europe in 1919 only because the Communist revolution, which expelled skilled workers, temporarily depressed the wages of the Russian garment workers who produced it, or any of the other myriad ways styles have points of origins the way wines have a terroir. When you work in fashion, pictures start off being in your world, then they define your world, then they become your world. You live in pictures. You communicate in pictures. Pictures are everything.

So it's perhaps telling that, for as long as I have worked in fashion, I don't recall ever being directed to an American Vogue image as an exemplar of something to aim for.

Stylists and photographers, they thumb through Vogue Paris, Vogue Italia. British Vogue. Because what are you going to find inside an American Vogue? We already know. A Craig McDean editorial, shot in a studio with a neutral background, of Caroline Trentini jumping. A boring profile of a celebrity you cared about three years ago. A showpiece editorial shot by someone like Steven Klein or Steven Meisel where the great photographers try and work dumbed-down versions of ideas they explored at greater length and with greater freedom—more suitable props, edgier locations, maybe a surrealist touch or two, or a reference to an obscure film—seasons ago in Vogue Italia's pages. Or in Vogue Paris's. Wintour reportedly demands a full selection of images from every photographer she works with, so that she can make the final photo choices herself (it's much more normal for a photographer to do a first edit, and for the eventual images to be something of a compromise between the photographer and the magazine). This level of control has hamstrung her publication, which consequently recycles the same tiny list of models, stylists, and photographers virtually every issue. American Vogue has, for far too long, been deficient in that most fashionable quality, surprise. Carine Roitfeld would breathe in some life.

Of course, S.I. Newhouse quickly denied the Roitfeld replacement rumor through a spokesperson. And Roitfeld herself has always claimed that she is not gunning for Wintour's job: Last year, she told a reporter, “My best quality is to be stylist. I never think about this career, this big job [...] I never wanted to be what I am today, and I will not die in the position.” Roitfeld is said to dislike New York. She spends as little time in the city as possible, and her daughter says she loves her home in Paris too much to ever leave. It's also possible that Roitfeld might not be keen to sign up to fill Wintour's shoes because in the current economic climate, it's a virtual certainty that Wintour's successor will never be granted the leeway Wintour carved out for herself, which includes vast editorial control, a reported 2 million dollar salary, a $50,000 annual clothing allowance, and a personal chauffeur. When Wintour wanted to buy an apartment in Greenwich Village, Condé Nast cut her a $1.6 million loan, interest-free. S.I. Newhouse will probably never grant a single editor-in-chief such extraordinary freedoms again.

It's possible that these rumors are unfounded, and perhaps the challenge presented by American Vogue—a mass-market title with a circulation of 1.3 million—might itself wreck all it is that's so inspiring about Roitfeld's editorial vision. A Roitfeld who could not change Vogue would be instead changed by it, and not, I would wager, for the better. And Roitfeld is, after all, comfortable overseeing a small-but-mighty 133,000 circulation magazine more loved by the fashion crowd than the wider world.

But even if the next in line proves not to be Roitfeld, it will be someone else, and sooner rather than later. Anna Wintour is nearing 60; the flurry of varying replacement/retirement rumors reported in different titles from different sources might at least be pointing in the right direction. Change is long overdue.

Related: Anna Wintour Said Replaced By French Counterpart [Gawker]

The Anti-Anna [NY Mag]

Lilly Pulitzer herself had a textbook background: Chapin, Miss Porter's, marriage to a publishing scion, and a youthful life of wealthy eccentricity (Pulitzer is famous for going without shoes and undies and for keeping a menagerie as a young wife.) Then came anxiety attacks, a stay in what she terms "the nuthouse" - “I can’t really remember how long I was there, but my cousin was there too, so that was nice” - and depression that led to the start of her "hobby," running a juice stand that called for a practical uniform of shift dresses that wouldn't show stains.

The rest is, of course, history: the gaily printed shifts became a sensation with the Palm Beach society set, former classmate Jackie Kennedy wore one in a magazine spread, and Lilly Pulitzer became a household name, selling not just pink and green dresses, but embroidered trousers and capris, sarongs, and all manner of sportswear. Pulitzer is often credited with creating the concept of "resort" - or, as she blithely put it, "it’s always summer somewhere.” Although she closed up shop in the businesslike 80s, she sold the brand in 1993 and has continued as a creative consultant in its new incarnation. The line currently has 20 boutiques, plus department store collections. According to today's WWD, "brand extension is a significant part of the growth strategy for Lilly Pulitzer as it begins its second half-century."

Of course, was Lilly Pulitzer really ever anything but a lifestyle brand? Did people ever really love wearing luridly-colored monkeys and sea-horses? Yes, the prints were cheerful, but when you see a Lilly Pulitzer, you think "Lilly Pulitzer" and that has surely always been the point. To wear one of her dresses was to momentarily be a part of a world where sporting goofy, unflattering clothes is a mark of dashing, privilege-bred confidence, the very definition of the uniform of an insider. Its appeal now is nostalgic. As W puts it, "the Palm Beach social swirl that Rousseau recalls—in which counts sat next to carpenters at her dinner parties and, as she relishes telling, Kennedy spoon-fed John-John on her kitchen floor—has an almost mythic quality, one she laments no longer exists." But to most of us, the nostalgic appeal is at least as much for a character like Pulitzer's as for anachronistic high society. She was, of course, inseparable from that privilege, and hers was a success inexplicably linked with her connections, friends, and lifestyle. But the old-fashioned no-nonsense sense of entitlement is also what allowed Pulitzer to build a successful business in a man's world, divorce her husband and move out on her own, where many women would have been happy to leave dresses as a pleasant sideline to a socialite's life. She took her lifestyle and made it a business. Everything about her story — from the world that inspired it, to the entitlement that encouraged it, to the scope of the achievement — is part of a long-gone world. This, as much as the unapologetic silliness of the clothes themselves, is a fascinating glimpse to another time for the rest of us.

Lilly Land [W]
All the Details: The Lilly Lifestyle [WWD]

She writes:

The last couple of years have been an egopalooza of celebrities, politicians, businessmen, and religious leaders behaving not just badly, but with overweening sense of entitlement. Paris Hilton: Jail is worse for me than anyone else! Oprah: the Hermes store wouldn't let me shop because I'm black! (The fact that the store had just closed apparently had nothing to do with it.) And Hillary: Oh, dear God, Hillary. If she hadn't radiated an almost-cartoonish, Daffy Duck-like aura ("The presidency is mine-mine-MINE!"), maybe she would have been the Democratic candidate.

Note that all three of Newman's examples are women. Probably she's just considering her target audience, but the message stands — don't be like these ladies, or like Cynthia, unless you want to be pilloried in Allure. Leaving aside for a moment the fact that Newman just lumped Oprah and Hillary together with Paris Hilton, and the fact that aggressively seeking public office apparently now makes you a cartoon character — are these women really that bad?

Cynthia achieved great success after "a modest upbringing," and now she's extremely confident. She believes she'll succeed in her career, and says, "there's value in being opinionated when you have really good opinions." Maybe Cynthia isn't the most considerate person in the world, but we'd sure rather hear from her than someone who couches every statement with "I'm not sure, but . . ." There is value in being opinionated, and in being confident, and in feeling that people should listen to you — and more women and men should embrace this value.

Of course, some cases of ASN (which Newman defines as "a form of self-absorption and grandiosity developed not in childhood, as classical narcissism is thought to be, but rather [...] after an individual has acquired modest fame and fortune") may cause problems — the "luxury shame" sufferers Sadie wrote about should probably try thinking of the less fortunate for a change. But we may not have to hear from them much longer: Newman says the best cure for ASN is failure.

Cynthia, for instance, suffered a failed project and a series of bad dates, including one with a guy who said, "I don't think she asked one question about me." Now she's way nicer, even asking Newman about herself when they meet up for drinks. Cynthia could probably stand to learn a thing or two about consideration, but we're still a little disturbed that Newman's recipe for bringing an uppity woman to earth is a stinging remark from a man.

[Allure] (Official Site)

"Maybe you find this depressing (a brilliant comic mind inevitably reduced to shaking her cleavage). Maybe you find this empowering (a brilliant comic mind finally shaking her cleavage!)," Hepola writes, but in fact, it's neither. It's ambition, pure and simple. People who want to succeed in their chosen field do whatever they can to make themselves most "attractive" to employers. In fields that aren't acting and modeling, this means garnering experience that's most relevant to the position you want. However, as much as we may or may not like it, acting is job that is based on looks and polish — she wasn't applying for a job at a law firm or at a radio station. Was Tina Fey still hilarious when she weighed thirty pounds more and had terrible hair? Undoubtedly. Would she ever have seen screen time? Never in a million years. Can you really blame her for the choices that she made?

As our own Macloserboy eloquently noted yesterday, "Sadly, the whole physical transformation thing matters because if she didn't do it, there's a chance that no matter how smart or funny she was (and Lorne Michaels makes it clear they thought that even when she was heavier) we wouldn't even know her name. We'd just marvel twice as much at Amy Poehler who'd essentially be her mouthpiece." More pics of Tina pre-makeover are below, plus a video of the very glam Ms. Fey dancing whilst getting photographed for Vanity Fair.

First two Images via Unstirred

Other images via Dorothy Surrenders

Tina Fey, Dancing [Videogum]
The Sexing Up Of Tina Fey [Salon]

Earlier: Vanity Fair: Tina Fey Drops 30 Pounds, Is Scarred For Life

Between the P.U.M.A.s and La Palin, one would think that if this election season had taught the women's movement anything, it would have been that having a government that pushes for and fairly represents the interests of women is not necessarily related to having women in the government — let alone in proportion to their percentage of the population. Unfortunately, one would be wrong. And Hillary Clinton's primary loss still continues to smart for some women, despite her elevation to the highest cabinet position and to the line of Presidential succession today. As seen in a new story on Reuters:

"Secretary of State has become the women's spot — a safe expected place for women to be. In the ideal world, we'd see woman as Treasury secretary and throughout these ranks (of government)," [Carol Jenkins, president of the Women's Media Center] said.

So the Secretary of State — our face to the world at large, and the first Cabinet member in the Presidential line of succession — is now a soft position? Get a grip! If by virtue of the fact that two of its last three incumbents were women it's now a "girly" position, then we're all contributing to the ghettoization of jobs by making them supposedly too easy for a man to do. Gross.

Stacy Mason, the executive director of WomenCount, is similarly unenthused about the Year of the Woman.

The record number of women in Congress in the new session that opens in January still reflects small net gains in the November elections — one in the U.S. Senate and three in the House of Representatives. As of now, women will number 17 in the 100-member Senate and 74 in the 435-member House. One Ohio race was so close it has not yet been decided.

"It's a really really dismal number ... the U.S. still ranks 83rd in terms of the number of women in elected office," said Mason.

It is not a great number, but, as has been noted before, the number of women who hold political office in a country is hardly the way to judge their equality, positions in society or opportunities. Furthermore, many of us would probably agree that we'd rather elect 100 Joe Bidens or Barack Obamas than 100 Sarah Palins to Congress — let alone Marilyn Musgraves or Liddy Doles. Both of those women lost re-election to other women, which resulted in no net increase in the number of women in Congress but significantly improved the representation of progressive women's issues.

So, while we're more than happy to see more women running for and elected to office, let's all take a deep breath and recognize that if the women's movement is supposed to be one for rights and equality, electing women to office cannot be the be-all, end-all measure of success. Then let's take a deeper breath and think about the fact that of the first 2 people in line for succession to the Presidency, two of them are women. Yes, there are gains to be made — necessary gains, even — but insulting the position of Secretary of State, bemoaning the loss of women without consideration given to their politics and generally insisting on unattainable goals before being able to crack a smile about the achievements of other women aren't going to get us there.

Women See Clinton Job As Triumph, Disappointment [Reuters]

Related: United States Presidential Line Of Succession [Wikipedia]

Earlier: As Far As I'm Concerned, Former Ms. Editor Elaine Lafferty Can Go F-ck Herself
Sarah Palin: When Choosing A Woman Might Not Be Choosing For Women
Do Women Want Equality Of Outcomes Or Opportunities?

"Melissa Beech" is a college student from a privileged background. "I was blessed to have been raised with class, sent to the best schools, and taught to be well read, well spoken and well traveled." Yet the world of higher learning proves a rude awakening!

But when I got to college, I spent the first two years straining for financial independence. I tried working, but in retail, surrounded by temptation all day, I spent more than I made. Waiting tables was exhausting. I went on several job interviews, but all of the internships were unpaid. As my years in college wore on it was evident that the job market was sliding into decline. When the economic climate grew worse, my friends panicked that their resumes and high GPAs wouldn’t be enough to give them a leg up on the competition, and my goal became getting my foot in the door before everyone else.

What's a girl to do? She goes on an interview and the guy - "in his early thirties, single and successful" -offers her a job as his mistress instead. Turns out the dude's in this businesslike world of mistresses and sugar-daddies where, as in 18th century London, these arrangements are understood.

There’s even a social networking website that connects sugar daddies and their beneficiaries. This man told me about it: SeekingArrangement.com. He had been referred to it by a close friend who was a hedge fund manager. At his urging, I logged onto the site and looked at his profile. It didn’t have a picture, for privacy reasons. But it did contain information: his marital status (single), the industry he worked in (media and communications), and—a key element—his salary (seven figures). I was encouraged by the fact that the website vets its clients and offers only Certified Sugar Daddies, whose tax returns have been carefully examined so you know that you’re getting. I also learned that he was attracted to bright, smart women—he wasn’t in the market for the dumb bombshell. His profile said he wanted more of “a Jackie Kennedy than a Marilyn Monroe.” I fit the type.

Basically, she'll be his girlfriend, and he'll support her. She asks that they wait to get to know each other before sleeping together; he accedes.

As for the allowance, he doesn’t just cut me a check. He simply ensures that I need never worry about expenses. I rent a $1,600 apartment in the city, for which he pays the rent in full. I carry an AmEx Black card in both our names, and use it for things like shopping, spa trips, manicures, and tanning; the bill goes to him. And the company car I drive costs him around $700 a month for the lease and the insurance. I’ve even managed to build up a little nest egg over the past year – at his insistence – putting away around $12,000. All in all, he probably spends in the ballpark of $5,000 a month on my lifestyle.

It seems hard to believe that this scenario could actually inspire moral outrage, even from those who consider it to be prostitution: neither party is married, and the arrangement is, as she says, mutually beneficial. (And if she and her benefactor are suffering from the now-official recession — as many mistresses apparently are — she gives no indication.) More than anything, it seems odd and unsatisfying — a bloodless compromise between a relationship and a business transaction. But whatever one thinks about her choices, her justifications ring false to any young woman who's been strapped for cash in college - which is to say, most of us. Retail tempted her? Waitressing exhausted her? Please. These easy rationales lose her a lot of sympathy pretty quickly. And her defensive claims that although "he didn’t hire me for the internship position, but because of him I have had several internships at well-known PR companies, and have plenty of networking opportunities, shoring up my future prospects for when I graduate this spring" don't win much sympathy, either. If this was all some plan to bolster her resume, it seems like there are more direct ways - and this can't bring much comfort to the qualified young women who failed to obtain the same jobs because, while they may have been restrained enough to work a retail job, they didn't have the prescience to nab a sugar daddy. If she wants to be some emotionally disconnected rich guy's mistress, it's her prerogative - it's not like couples haven't been doing this for centuries - but attempting to justify it on professional grounds is an insult to the rest of us.

My Sugar Daddy [Daily Beast]

Earlier: Girly Golddiggers Are Reeling From The Recession

It is true that in the past year we have become a nation of "Fey-natics" (with the exception of Nancy Franklin who calls her performance on 30 Rock "not-so-great" in this week's New Yorker.) But clearly the new found celebrity status has not gone to Fey's head:

Her true vice is cupcakes. I’ve brought her a box, one frosted with the face of Sarah Palin. She chooses that one, which is bigger, joking that it’s O.K. if she gains weight before her Annie Leibovitz photo shoot in a few days, because “Annie’s going to photograph my soul, right?”

Looks do matter for American Sweethearts, though. Veteran Hollywood agent Sue Mengers warned Lorne Michaels against putting a pre-makeover Fey on-air for "Weekend Update" because she wasn't attractive enough:

“Lorne brought her over to my house when she was head writer,” Mengers recalls. “She was very mousy. I thought, Well, they gotta be having an affair. But they weren’t. He just appreciated her talent. And now, suddenly, she’s become this sexy, showing-tit, hot-looking woman. I said to Lorne, ‘What the fuck did she do?”’

Fey says that she gets her acerbity from her Greek mother, and adds that she got something else Dowd finds important from her mom's side.

"Because of the Greek-girl thing, I have, like, boobs and butt,” so “I only have two speeds— either matronly or a little too slutty. I have to be steered away from cheetah print.”

But it wasn't just her looks that scared off the boys in Fey's youth:

"I remember bringing people over in high school to play—that’s how cool I am—that game Celebrity. That’s how I successfully remained a virgin well into my 20s, bringing gay boys over to play Celebrity.”

Fey has never publicly explained the origin of her scar before, saying that talking about it upsets her parents. Now it's easy to see why:

... a faint scar runs across Tina Fey’s left cheek, the result of a violent cutting attack by a stranger when Fey was five. Her husband says, “It was in, like, the front yard of her house, and somebody who just came up, and she just thought somebody marked her with a pen.”

Her husband adds:

“That scar was fascinating to me,” Richmond recalls. “This is somebody who, no matter what it was, has gone through something. And I think it really informs the way she thinks about her life. When you have that kind of thing happen to you, that makes you scared of certain things, that makes you frightened of different things, your comedy comes out in a different kind of way, and it also makes you feel for people.”

Fey doesn't think the incident was as life changing as her husband does:

“It’s impossible to talk about it without somehow seemingly exploiting it and glorifying it,” she says. Did she feel less attractive growing up because of it? “I don’t think so,” she says. “Because I proceeded unaware of it. I was a very confident little kid. It’s really almost like I’m kind of able to forget about it, until I was on-camera, and it became a thing of ‘Oh, I guess we should use this side’ or whatever. Everybody’s got a better side.”

But she does say that the childhood attack may affect her as a mother:

“Supposedly, I will go crazy,” [says Fey]. “My therapist says, ‘When Alice is the age that you were, you may go crazy.”’

Fey also discusses why she didn't want to interact with the real Sarah Palin while she was playing the fake Sarah Palin on SNL:

“I just didn’t want to have to do the impression at the same time with her,” she said. “One, it would shine a light on the inaccuracies of the impression, and, two, it’s just always … the only word I can think of is ‘sweaty.’ It just always feels sweaty.”

Fey also calls out the media for insinuating that she hadn't been gracious to Palin backstage:

“What made me super-mad about it,” Fey says later, “was that it seemed very sexist toward me and her. The implication was that she’s so fragile, which she is not. She’s a strong woman. And then, also, it was sexist because, like, who would ever go on the news and say, ‘Well, I thought it was sort of mean to Richard Nixon when Dan Aykroyd played him,’ and ‘That seemed awful mean to George Bush when Will Ferrell did it.’ And it’s like, No, that’s not the thing. This is a comedy sketch on a comedy show.” “Mean,” we agreed, was a word that tends to get used on women who do satirical humor and, as she says, “gay guys.”

What Tina Fey Wants [Vanity Fair]

Related: Sketchy Comedy: Tina Fey's 30 Rock [The New Yorker]

The Heroine: 19-year-old brunette Polly Wallace, who is forced to drop out of art school and abandon a promising career in ceramics to care for a neurotic mother prone to migraines and panic attacks, and her three younger siblings. Polly is initially resentful of the demands made on her.

I suppose I feel about clay the way a musician feels about his instrument. I only feel alive when I begin on a hunk of clay, wedging it, pounding it, throwing it on a wheel - and then the joy of feeling it grow from a blob of stuff into the form you had in your mind all the time. I only feel alive when I'm making a shape out of a no-shape.

The Industry: Ceramics! Just by chance, the area where Polly lives is home to some of the finest "natural ceramic clay" deposits in the world, and has attracted a famous bohemian potter names Sven Svensen. Although a recluse, Sven becomes Polly's mentor, encouraging her natural talent. Polly's mother initially dismisses ceramics as a messy hobby, by watching the magic of pot-throwing she comes to understand the art form.

The wheel turned steadily, hypnotically. The clay rose, rounded, was pushed back gently, evened out, bulged, was molded back. It was a bowl now, responding almost imperceptibly to the carefully controlled fingers, fingers that seemed rather to follow some preordained shape than to direct it.

The Love Interests:Polly has a long-term steady, Kevin, whom she takes for granted. Kevin is a reporter on Mr. Wallace's paper and doesn't really get Polly's passion for ceramics. So, when the dashing potter Josh MacIntosh comes to town, building her kick-wheels and talking kilns, Polly is smitten...but why does he seem immune to her charms?

The Supporting Players:Polly lives with her parents, a self-absorbed sister named Tish, a kid brother. Tommy, and the scheming 10-year-old Vicky. She has a frumpy but dependable best friend, Enid, and a circle of older acquaintances in town who run the "fine arts club."

The Plot:Polly is desperate to continue her ceramics, despite her mother's wish to control her and prevent her from building a small studio in the basement. When Polly and Josh discover an abandoned doll factory on the outskirts of town, they decide to try to turn it into a ceramics studio and offer lessons. But will the kiln work? Will Polly's mother relent? Will they find students? Will the town elders come to accept the ceramics workshop? Will Polly win the enigmatic Josh and, in the process, lose dependable Kevin to Enid?

The Resolution:Despite continued problems with the kiln and one very dramatic scene in which a collapsed chimney destroys all the pottery they've made for an expo, all is resolved: fired by a passion for the local clay, the town decides to spring for an Arts Center - with woodworking and weaving, too! Upon learning that Josh is married (although separated) Polly realizes she's loved Kevin all along - and that she can pursue her dreams without even leaving home.

Attractive young woman in Manhattan, 1953.

Loving the shoulders, loving the glasses, loving the slender, delicate wristwatch.

Woman working in office, New York, 1957.

This lady must have a cool job, what with the cropped hair and the black and the arty supplies. Ixnay on the iggarettesay, though.

Typical secretary working in office, New York, 1957.

Oh dear.

Teenagers spending evening at movies. 1957.

Check out his little pompadour and her little flats!

Woman wearing wide shoulder fashion look, 1959.

Oh, so that's how to make a waist look microscopic: Wide, wide shoulders!

Model blowing on red feather boa & wearing large rhinestone earrings & bracelets for article featuring "the little red dress."

Bring back the little red dress!

Sculpture By Picasso
Four unident. models in red dresses dancing Charleston for article featuring "the little red dress."

No, seriously.

Seven African American teens walking the steps to the school, while the white students are watching on during the demonstration regarding school integration. 1956.

The '50s were not all fun and games.

A woman wearing a crab hat at the League of Women Voter's Convention, Atlantic City, NJ, 1958.

No idea what is going on here, but crabby women get my vote!

Actress Debbie Reynolds, 1950.

Can you believe that this is Carrie Fisher's mom?

Little girl model at fashion show. 1950.

Suri Cruise 1.0

Baseball great Jackie Robinson (in football uniform) w. wife Rae (Rachel) (C) and actress Ruby Dee (R) who is portraying Rae in "The Jackie Robinson Story," on the film's set, 1950.

Must find those shoes!

Actress Julia Adams is carried by monster "gill man" in the movie "Creature from the Black Lagoon," 1954.

"Mom! Dad! I totally found a girlfriend!"

African Americans dancing to the jukebox at the Harlem Cafe in Greenville, S.C., 1956.

Wouldn't you love to know what's on the jukebox? (This image is by Margaret Bourke-White, one of most accomplished female photojournalists of her time.)

Actress Elizabeth Taylor, 18, at graduation time, posing at desk in classroom at Hollywood's University High School, 1950.

No more classes, no more books. No more teacher's dirty looks. If you know what I mean.

Actress Laurette Luez (L) appearing in movie "Prehistoric Woman," 1950.

Note to self: Rent this movie.

Woman Sherriff, 1950.

Where ever this is, there must not be a heap of crime. Women get the job done!

Singer Lena Horne (R) and Lennie Hayton announcing they have been married since 1947. Paris, 1950.

Don't you want to sit in Paris wearing a lovely hat and some pearls and smile like this?

Straw Hair, 1950.

This photograph was taken backstage at a play by legendary photographer Gordon Parks, whose life was simply amazing. He shot quite often for Life.

French Fashion Models. 1950. By Gordon Parks

This Gordon Parks image seems worthy of buying, a framed print of these chic souls (and those Eames chairs!) would be a really nice gift. Cough.

Peruvian singer Yma Sumac, wearing native dress. 1950

Get to know the fabulous late Yma Sumac. Please.

Wives waiting impatiently for their military husbands to come home. 1951.

The more things change, the more things stay the same. Oh, and that one soldier is all, hmm, she is cute.

Portrait of singer/actress Dorothy Dandridge, 1951.

Stunning!

Hawaiians celebrating their admission to the US. 1959

This one is for the cheek-pinchers out there.

Harlem Debut, 1950.

Debutantes! So much tulle.

Hollywood Community Chest Fashion Show, 1950.

Gorgeous dresses, and lusting after the chandelier!

Earlier: The Way We Were: Life Magazine Photos Of Women In The 1940s
The Way We Were: Life Magazine Photos Of Women In The 1930s

• If you think someone is promiscuous, you might well be right.
  In a recent study conducted in the UK and published in Evolution and Human Behavior, Lynda Boothroyd showed that both men and women were able to judge the openness of men and women to a sexual fling based on photographs of their faces. The study showed that both genders judged men who looked "masculine" and women that looked "attractive" as, correctly, more open to casual sex.
• Who a woman wants to sleep with — and her openness to doing so — varies with her cycle and her age.
  A variety of studies have shown that women get hornier right before they ovulate, and a study by David Schmitt of Bradley University shows that women's preferences in men vary around the same time. In addition, another study conducted in 48 countries shows that women's openness and propensity to engage in intercourse with multiple sexual partners (including infidelity) peaks in her 30s, while, for men, it peaks in their 20s. Schmitt hypothesizes that this is because women's fertility begins to decline at that point in her life.
• It does have to do with your mommy (or daddy) issues.
  Jay Belsky, in study published in Child Development, found that women who grew up in stressful family situations tended to have more kids early without waiting for stable relationships because, he hypothesized, they were sure one was coming. He wrote, "harsh parenting in the first four years of life predicts early puberty and growth and thereby predicts more unrestricted sexual behaviour by the time the child reaches 15 years of age."
• It's still about trust and security.
  A variety of studies of both men's and women's propensity to sleep around is based in their ability to trust or feel secure in relationships. Schmitt says, "If a person was high in being able to trust other people, they were monogamous. If they were very low in trust they were much more likely to be unrestricted in sociosexuality." He relates this, like Belsky, to childhood stresses and poor relationship models.
• Sleeping around might be related to testosterone in both sexes.
  A study Sarah Mikach and Michael Bailey of Northwestern University looked at the correlation between a woman's sexual partners and how they look, felt or acted more stereotypically masculine and found, somewhat unsurprisingly, that woman who were identified as more "masculine" tended to have more sexual partners. Of course, it all depends on the definition of "masculine behaviors," but even when just taking biology into account, the theory seems to hold. Researchers believe that having a longer ring finger than index finger is related to prenatal testosterone exposures — and a study by Andrew Clark in Evolution and Human Behavior found that women with longer ring fingers tended to have more sexual partners as well.
• Oh, and, yes, there is a social aspect to all of this.
  Biology is all well and good, but thousands of years of judging male and female sexuality differently does have more than a little something to do with women's ability to act on their legitimate sexual desires. Schmitt points out that, with the expansion of birth control, education, and access to social services for women, their ability and willingness to act on sexual urges definitely increases. Fhionna Moore at the University of St Andrews found in her work that financially independent women didn't tend to seek out so-called "good providers," as much as they did supposedly good jeans genes. Basically, once a society begins to near equality for men and women, providing women with more autonomy and less of an incentive or requirement to buy into patriarchal sexual mores, they don't — and then many of them go have a bunch of sex.

While humans are biologically driven to mate like any other species, the many, varied aspects of how, why and when we mate and (sometimes) bear children never seemed fully explained by "Women are biologically determined to be taken care of by a man." So, it's nice to see a group of scientists try to tease out which aspects of human sexuality and coupledom are actually biological and which are socially-driven after so many decades of viewing thousands of years and biological and social evolution through a (social) nuclear family lens.

The Dizzying Diversity Of Human Sexual Strategies [New Scientist]

The "American Farmstead cheese collection" includes Marieke Gouda, Vermont Ayr, La Fleurie and Capriole O'Banon. Whatever that means. Looks delicious. Also not bad? The sheep. And the dude.

Hmm, a new Thanksgiving tradition? Mini empanadas seem like a great idea, all of a sudden. So do bacon-wrapped dates. And phyllo-wrapped spinach triagles. And tamales. Yum.

There's something about pot pie on a cold day. So warm, so creamy, so filling. This one is lobster, but chicken is great, too. Also seen here: smoked salmon trio (scotch-cured, Maine sea spice and lemon-and-dill) and maple-smoked salmon fillet.

Beef. It's what's for dinner. Will you have filet mignon? Strip steaks? Rib roast? Or some dry-aged beef? Everything looks juicy and divine.

Some families always have turkey; my people are prone to ham. We like it soaked in bourbon and smothered in pecans, but both of these look okay. Let's just skip to dessert.

The "bûche de Nöel" is a cake that looks like a log. This one is chocolate genoise cake "rolled with a light, fluffy layer of chocolate ganache and rerobed in chocolate truffle buttercream cleverly sculpted to replicate bark." And those mushrooms are made of meringue. Some people love tiramisu; I think I'd opt for the peppermint gelato truffles down below. They're described as "silky-smooth," and now my mouth is watering.

Peppermint bark! It's official, the holidays have begun.

You can't actually buy this adorable igloo cake — Williams-Sonoma just sells the mold — but it's so cute!

Even better: Red velvet cake. Or cupcakes. Get your own.

Then there's 12-layer chocolate cake, coconut lemon layer cake and five layer mousse cake. Ever feel like you want to live inside of a cake?

You can try and live inside of this gingerbread manor, if you like. A recession bargain at $250. Oh, but here's a tip for the folks at Williams-Sonoma: Why not call your gingerbread cookies "kids" instead of "boys"? Especially when one is named Samantha?

Anyway, if the manor is a little high-end for your taste, downsize to a little gingerbread shack.

Williams-Sonoma [Official Site]

Earlier: The Naked Chef: Pfaelzer Brothers Peddle Hot Food Porn

Pink - "Sober"

Björk - "All Is Full of Love"

Tweet - "Oops"

Britney Spears - "Touch of My Hand"

I love myself
It’s not a sin
I can’t control what’s happenin’
‘Cause I just discovered
Imagination’s taking over
Another day without a lover
The more I come to understand
The touch of my hand

Tori Amos - "Icicle"

And when my hand touches myself,
I can finally rest my head.
And when they take from his body,
I think I'll take from mine instead,
Getting off, getting off while they're all downstairs.

Divinyls - "I Touch Myself"

The Pussycat Dolls - "I Don't Need a Man"

I don’t need a man to make it happen
I get off being free
I don’t need a man to make me feel good
I get off doing my thing
I don’t need a ring around my finger
To make me feel complete
So let me break it down
I can get off when you ain’t around

Madonna simulated masturbation during "Like a Virgin" on her Blonde Ambition tour.

Janet Jackson has like a million songs about sex, and I'm sure that a bunch of them include themes of masturbation, but the most popular is probably "If."

How many nights I've laid in bed excited over you
I've closed my eyes and thought of us,
A hundred different ways
I've gotten there so many times

And then of course there's Cyndi Lauper's "She Bop," but for some reason, it's not embeddable from YouTube. So you can watch it here.

#1 "…Make him lose his shirt."
There's a one-page layout in the front of the book that offers a handful of random ideas on want to do in the month of December. The different suggestions are wholly unrelated and don't seem to work toward a common goal, other to give women who have no idea how to spend the next 31 days something to do, but one of them is sex advice related:

Why don't you make him lose his shirt. Betting on funny stuff with your guy will turn this into one very sexy month. For example, wager whether your your boss will rock his reindeer tie at the office party. Competition amps up sexual tension, so once you win, ask for a heavenly full-body massage.

I was down with this one, as I love massages, sexual tension, and gambling. My man and I were already in the middle of a Trivial Pursuit kick when I happened upon this tip, so I suggested that the next time we play, we ante up some sex acts. He loved this. I, of course, opted for a full body massage, per Cosmo's wisdom, and then I received this email of the top five sex acts he'd like if he won, that he sent from work:

1) Full BJ: no time limit, no evidence (as in: swallowing)
2) Titty spray!
3) Um, how bout Hitachi plus doggy-style plus lubed finger in ass? That
could be good.
4) Interbreastsial coitus followed by jizz reservoir in that little throat
valley (you can throw in the Hitachi cuz I'm not a sore winner)
5) A long, luxurious foot rub. Kidding! Ball trim into HJ into ride em
cowboy, silly!

And that's just off the top of my head! Better brush up on your sports...

The only one I wasn't into was number one, mainly because the volume of his ejaculate is so freakishly large that I don't think I'd be able to handle it without some coming out of my nose. The next time we played Trivial Pursuit, I won. By the time we were done, though, I was too tired to cash in on my full body rub. (I wanted the works and didn't want to use up my massage on a quicki