Why? Because comments about how it's not just black people who are not represented by Barbie, but Asians, Greeks, Irish, Russians, brown-eyed girls, brunettes, the near-sighted, etc. are not the point. In fact, comments like these miss the point entirely. These experiences/issues are, of course, valid, and have a place in the world, but not on a post about black issues. Comments like, "Where is the freckled Barbie?" have nothing to do with the issue at hand, which is the historic and systemic racism against a specific ethnic group in this country. The marginalization of African-American people from the mainstream culture. We have seen lots of these kind of comments persist on stories about race — and race as it pertains to hair — and not only are they off-topic, they're insulting, insensitive and dismissive. Why? Because what they do is:

— Insinuate that it's a personal issue, when, in fact, it is cultural, societal and global.
— Diminish racism to lookism or oversight
— Undermine the original post
— Degrade and disrespect the struggle of black Americans

We have a strong commenting community, but many of the comments on posts about race are, quite frankly, embarrassing. In a post I wrote about the politics of Michelle Obama's hair, there were many comments along the lines of "I'm [not black], but my hair is curly, and I wear it straight because I like to." Again: The topic is not so much a personal issue as it is one with cultural and racial implications. The politics surrounding a black woman who is also the First Lady straightening her hair and a some other woman straightening her hair are very different, as are the intricacies of Mattel creating and designing a black Barbie, as opposed to one who looks Irish.

The writers on this site have a job to do, which is post commentary on stories in the media, and, where appropriate, insert opinion/personal experiences. Though these posts welcome comments, commenters should realize that inserting their opinions or experiences is not always furthering the discussion. A post about the issues with the black Barbie is not a call for everyone to write about how Barbie makes them feel. And as Latoya wrote in long, thoughtful and yes, frustrated comment on her own post late last night, "People keep deliberately inserting their experiences into a narrative that does not fit. It's not the same experience." Please keep this in mind.

Earlier: Keeping Michelle's Hair In Perspective
Black Barbies: A Question Of Representation

1. It begins with a star. "When You Wish Upon A Star" was sung by Jiminy Cricket in the 1940 Disney film Pinocchio and has become the anthem and theme song of The Walt Disney Company. There's lots of star-gazing in classic Disney films, but I can't tell if these stars hold a Hidden Mickey, like the ones in The Lion King did.

2. There's an Interracial friendship right off the bat. Tiana and Charlotte are BFF, and surely there's more to come about their relationship: One is black and one is white, one is rich and one is working class. But in this first scene, they're just two little girls who love a story.

3. Tiana's mom could win Project Runway. I just know it.

4. Tiana is a realist, not a romantic. When her mother is talks about the Princess kissing the frog, Tiana is justifiably squicked out.

5. Doting dad #1.

6. The gorgeous panning shot of the quiet transition of neighborhoods. From rich to not-so-rich.

7. Doting dad #2.

8. Foreshadowing of the jazzy, awesome nightclub to come. Also, this illustration of an illustration is just gorgeous.

9. "That old star can only take you part of the way. You've gotta help it along with some hard work of your own… Then you can set anything you set your mind to."

10. Two loving parents who also love each other. Of course, they're probably going to die very soon. This is Disney, after all. And as an ONTD commenter points out, Joseph Campbell's Hero With A Thousand Faces, which we studied religiously when I was a screenwriting major, is a pretty much the rule in Disney flicks.

11. Ridiculously beautiful hand-drawn animation. CGI can suck it. (Click "full size" to enlarge.)

Here's the video clip. As you'll see, it's not final; some scenes are missing color. But after pointing out possible problems with the movie, I have to say that seeing actual footage beyond the trailer is still really exciting. Then again, there's no toothless firefly in this clip.

First 5 Minutes Of The Princess And The Frog [ONTD]

Earlier: 5 Possible Problems With The Princess And The Frog
How About An Animated Movie With A Female Lead Who Isn't A Princess?
About That Princess And The Frog Spoiler…
Disney's First Black Princess Is A Little Green
An Early Look At Characters From Disney's Black Princess Movie
Why Has It Taken So Long For Disney To Create A Black Princess?
The Princess And The Frog
Why Is Disney's First Black Princess Such A Challenge?

"I guess you just go through different phases in your life. I was pretty much at the point where I needed the change and I needed to focus my energy on more productive arenas. I was putting too much into my appearance and I needed to make this about growth and going to the next stage of my life. I felt like I was being distracted by something as simple as hair."

Solange reveals that it's not the first time she's cut her hair, and she's always changed her hair and gone through different phases:

I remember when I was 13 I went through my 'I-am-Miss-Natural, incense-burning, Bob Marley-playing, only-vintage-shop-wearing Solange.' So of course that included cutting my perm off, being a Vegan. I didn't quite understand yet that my hair did not define me. Then I remember being 16 and being like 'Okay, I can still be smart and I can still have the same beliefs that I have, but I did not have to have red Rasta braids. I can do that with straight hair. I can do that with a 'fro. I can do that with a weave down to my butt.'

But Solange seems to know that hair is a complicated issue — for everyone; not just black women.

"As a society we equate beauty with the images that have been placed in front of us since we were little kids. Every Disney movie, every fairy tale, every pop star typically has a certain aesthetic and look. I think that anytime we see something different, it freaks us out. The more people warmed up to it, and they saw more images of me with it and dressed up with my earrings and a little something, something on my face, I think then people were more willing to conform and accept it. Now, it's interesting how the first day I had it, I had nothing but negative, evil, cruel things in my inbox and then yesterday [after Oprah aired] I had 300,000 people saying 'Oh my God, you looked amazing, so beautiful, and you made us proud.'"

The entire interview is highly recommended: Solange spills on being a mother and about what kind of parents she has: "It's interesting that people think that my dad is the one who's all strict," she says. "They build up quite a character with that guy, and at the end of the day it's my mom who's going to give you the neck roll."

Plus, check out her response when asked "Five words to describe yourself?":

Water, blood, melanin, bones, and ... vajajay.

Solo in the City [Honey Mag]

Earlier: Solange Chops Hair, Is Called "Insane"

Oprah & Chris Rock Talk Good Hair

First up is Sarah Jones, Tony and Obie Award-winning playwright, actress, and poet. She talks about the "secret weave-y society" that her white friends did not understand. Even though there's comedy in Jones' anecdote, it's also a sad commentary on the fact that hair can serve as such a mysterious divide and cause of underlying tension in female relationships.

In this second clip, Chris Rock talks to some guys in a barber shop about the taboo of touching a black woman's hair. The men seem to enjoy bitching about how protective black women can be about their tresses, but unfortunately, they don't seem to realize that, in a way, they're part of the problem. While Chris Rock does seem to make an effort to get various points of view, hearing men talk about the problems they have with women's hair is a little annoying. That said, we can't wait to see the full film, which goes nationwide in theaters on October 23.

Good Hair [Official Site]

Earlier: Will We Ever Be Able to Stop Talking About Black Hair Politics?
Keeping Michelle's Hair In Perspective
Combing Through The Deeply Rooted Politics Of Black Hair Issues
Weaves, Extensions & "Creamy Crack": Chris Rock's Good Hair Trailer
Chris Rock's New Documentary Explores "Good" Hair

We're still talking about this because:

• No one's hair is every really good enough. The discussions about black hair don't just reflect the reality of black women's struggles, but the internal conversations of women who have hair that deviates from the shiny, full, swingy-straight ideal in some form or fashion. I recently had a conversation with a friend of mixed race heritage who has long dark brown hair that hangs to her shoulders. She confided that she often thought of having a straightening treatment done, but didn't know if it was worth the hassle. I looked at her, aghast. "Dude, your hair is straight!" I blurted out, looking at her locks which hang straight down and can easily be run through with a comb.

  "No, this isn't straight," she replied, explaining her hair had a body wave that made it stand out. "It's not wavy enough to look cool, but it's too wavy to be straight unless I use a flat iron." I heard similar sentiments on from a Korean American friend, also debating a straightening treatment. And I've heard laments from my straight-as-a-pin haired friends who have hair that refuses to hold a curl. It seems that no matter what we work toward, it isn't enough. So while many of our discussions revolve around the racial realities facing black women, having hosted many a conversation about black hair over the years, I never fail to be surprised when women of all shades find parts of their stories in this common, frustrating narrative.

• In two-thousand-fucking-eight it was (and) is still totally cool for black women to be denied service at salons, regardless of what they are having done. And this is on top of what I like to call "the black hair tax" - knowing that you're going to have at least twenty extra dollars tacked on to your service charge because you require flat iron service post blow dry. One time, I went to a salon in my area with air dried, a few weeks of new growth hair. I went to a stylist who had styled my hair before. I sat in her chair, but she looked at my hair like it was going to bite her. She then pulled out a fine-toothed comb and watched it get stuck in my hair before excusing herself to find "someone who can do this type of hair."

  Again: she had done my hair before, about four weeks prior to this occasion. However, seeing my hair in a semi-curly state forced her to run for back up (which turned out to be an Afro-Carribean stylist who wrung my hair out like a rag and then heat blasted it into submission). The worst part? If she had done what she normally does (wash, blowdry, flat iron) my hair would have turned out fine. But she recoiled from my hair and wouldn't even consider repeating the same process she went through the last time she styled my mane. And I will never forget that.

• We haven't talked about men's hair issues yet, specifically black men. From wave caps to jheri curls, it isn't all good over there either. Chris Rock's new documentary features commentary from Al Sharpton and Rock explains to Allison Samuels:
  

  Come on, you have to have the good reverend in anything that deals with black hair. He's so not ashamed of discussing his hair and how he keeps it up with a scarf and whatever. His thoughts on black life and what it involves can be priceless.

• We still have to deal with the curly haired stigma. As Dodai wrote when she asked "Why Is Straight Hair the Epitome of 'Style'?":
  

  It sucks to have hard-to-manage hair, of course. But the paranoia surrounding curls and frizz is troubling, to say the very least. Why is straight hair considered to be "polished" and curly hair often described as "wild"? In movies like The Princess Diaries, when the character goes from geek to chic, there's always a scene where they take her crazy, frizzy curly strands (which just need a little deep conditioner and some spray gel) and make them straight... and therefore, pretty. Let's say you had a choice between curly hair and straight hair. If you were going on a job interview and you wanted to seem serious and businesslike, which would you choose? Does straight hair seem more professional? What if you were going on a date? Does curly hair seem exotic, sexy, fun? And is there a subtle racism in this type of thinking?

  I fully co-sign Dodai here. But it is interesting to note that Pool's Guardian piece reveals how deeply ingrained this type of thinking is. As she describes the feeling after flat ironing her hair:

  We were in Sweden for a wedding, and my logic was that if I truly hated it I could wash it and return to London with no one any the wiser. But I didn't hate it; in fact I rather liked it. It felt sleek and modern. My hair was bouncy and shiny, it looked healthy and, best of all, it moved. It even swished from side to side.

  If straight hair is modern, does that make curly hair primitive? It seems like a harsh thing to say, but that's the ultimate connotation. And as I mentioned before, these ideas are deeply ingrained. I often fight with myself before important occasions or events if I will or won't have my hair straightened. I generally decide against it, but the urge is always there to make myself "more presentable" by taming it into a straight style.

  Pool goes on to discuss how she conflicted she feels, an emotion I know all too well:

  There was only one problem: it made me feel guilty. I felt like a traitor. And I became mildly obsessed about what signals I was sending out. If an afro says, "I'm confident enough to wear my hair as it comes," what does wearing my hair straight say?

  But after a few days I started to notice some unexpected side-effects of straightening my hair. Other Eritreans and Ethiopians – who generally all straighten their hair – started to nod and smile at me in the street, acknowledging me as one of them. And I love it.

  The world does react to you differently when you decide to straighten out. The shift in how you are perceived is something that is instantly noticed, even if it is tough to articulate. And it's one of the factors that makes it difficult to truly choose to wear your hair one way or the next - we are all influenced on some level by our peers and coworkers and their attitudes impact how we feel.

  I am typing this post in a cafe in downtown DC. While I was writing these words, a little girl with natural hair, coaxed into plaits with fuzzy puffs escaping wherever it can, stared at me for a minute or two as she walked past. I waved to her and her father encouraged her to say hello to me. She stood there, fixated on my hair. I looked up and realized her mother was waiting at the table. Her hair was long and straightened. I wonder what that little girl was thinking when she saw me. I don't think I'll ever know. But I do know that I don't want her to struggle with the same issues I struggle with now.

  There is so much emotion wrapped up in conversations of hair and choices and desirability that delving into these issues can be fraught with heartache. Women on all sides feel judged, feel scrutinized, feel as though whatever choice they have made, they still need to continually justify it.

  But, please, not on this thread. Let's look inward, let's treat others with kindness whatever their choices may be. And we're going to hug it out - India Arie style:

  

  Should You Straighten Your Afro Hair [Guardian]
  Chris Rock Talks 'Good Hair' [Newsweek]

  Earlier: Woman Denied Service At JC Penney Salon For Having Black Hair
  Keeping Michelle's Hair In Perspective
  Combing Through The Deeply Rooted Politics Of Black Hair Issues
  Why Is Straight Hair the Epitome of 'Style'?
  Dear Oprah, Mariah & Leona: Don't Forget That Curly Hair Is Beautiful Too

  [Image via Hairdressers Journal Interactive]

The story, shot by Dusan Reljin, opens — ahem — with a crotch shot. Now, a crotch shoot in and of itself is not necessarily low brow, but those jean shorts? In a hotel room? With the words "naughty by nature"? It just doesn't look very high end.

The very next image is not much better; Amber's famous asset is the focal point, instead of her absolutely glorious face. She's been signed by Ford, and she is capable of having a fresh, clean look. this ain't it.

While there's nothing wrong with Amber Rose showing off her famous derriere, there is a problem with it being in Elle. Because, in the context of a fashion magazine, it doesn't seem right, it doesn't seem "fashion." All we ever see of Amber Rose is her posterior. We've seen Kanye grab it, Madonna touch it, and Complex put it in a cage. As LaToya wrote about black models pictured nude while white models are photographed clothed, "It's about the roles of black women in fashion being limited to animals, sex objects, and advertising, but banned from higher fashion and catwalks." Elle had the chance to photograph Amber Rose like we've never seen her before — in couture, maybe, or just a head-and-shoulders beauty shoot. Instead, they chose to sexualize an already sexualized model. What's new, fresh, inventive, interesting about that?

This shot of Amber lying submissive on a bed — with the camera looming over her from the position of power — is almost as disheartening as the ass shot. What's additionally upsetting is that there are other celebrity models inside, and they are not photographed this way.

Posh, of course, gets the Posh treatment. Amber Rose would probably look amazing in a $3,000 cashmere dress, but they just didn't give her the chance.

Or, if they wanted to go sexy with Amber, why not sensual and cinematic, like (former model) Diane Kruger's shoot?

Better yet, they could have turned Amber's overtly feminine physique on its head and put her in menswear, as they did for (former model) Jamie King.

It's not that they didn't pull some good stuff for Amber's shoot: Her sunglasses are Fendi; the butt-baring bodysuit is $3,775 from Giorgio Armani; the dress on the bed is Blumarine, ringing up at $4,255. But the concept, vision and execution of the shoot is a shame, and a waste. But maybe you saw on the first page: It was styled by Kanye West.

On the one hand: Black hair is complicated. Loaded with meaning. Writes Desmond-Harris, "When the New Yorker set out last summer to satirize Michelle as a militant, country-hating black radical, it was no coincidence that the illustrator portrayed her with an Afro." Going natural — or not — can end up classifying a black woman. Straight hair makes some people think you're more "professional"; others might think you are selling out or tying to "be white." Natural, ultra-culry hair — worn in twists — means you might be berated by Free Republic, as Malia Obama was. Desmond-Harris notes that Don Imus infamously called the Rutgers women's basketball team "nappy-headed hos," making a connection between hair and promiscuity (see also: Her hair is wild, unruly, she needs to "tame" that frizz, etc.) With Chris Rock's documentary set to hit theaters at the same time we have many black women in the White House (Michelle, Sasha, Malia, Desirée Rogers, etc.) it is important to examine the stereotypes, hangups and issues surrounding women and black hair, and not treat the messages and codes surrounding black hair as trivial. Desmond-Harris writes:

One might think having a black First Lady who is widely praised as sophisticated and stylish would represent a happy ending to the story of black female beauty and acceptance. Alas, our hair still simultaneously bonds and divides us."There is no hair choice you can make that is simple," says Melissa Harris Lacewell, an associate professor of politics and African-American studies at Princeton. "Any choice carries tremendous personal and political valence." Even though I'm biracial and should theoretically have half a share of hair angst, I've sacrificed endless Saturdays to the salon. It is unfathomable that I might ever leave my apartment with my hair in its truly natural state, unmoderated by heat or products. I once broke down at the airport when my gel was confiscated for exceeding the 3-oz. limit. I'm neither high maintenance nor superficial: I'm a black woman.

On the other hand: Much like attention to Michelle Obama's clothes, arms and bottom, attention to her hair feels, well, disrespectful. And plain old sad. It's not like black women are newly arrived creatures from outer space — so why is the way we deal with our hair "news"? It's been over 100 years since Madame C.J. Walker and Garrett A. Morgan. Michelle's hair matters, but surely not as much as a whole lotta other stuff she's working on.

Why Michelle's Hair Matters [Time]
Earlier: Combing Through The Deeply Rooted Politics Of Black Hair Issues
Weaves, Extensions & "Creamy Crack": Chris Rock's Good Hair Trailer
Chris Rock's New Documentary Explores "Good" Hair
Solange Chops Hair, Is Called "Insane"
The Flesh-Eating Phonies Also Known As Lace-Front Wigs
Why Is Straight Hair The Epitome Of 'Style'?
Michelle Obama Spurs A "New Arms Race"

Straightening hair has been perceived as a way to be more acceptable to certain relatives, as well as to the white establishment…

In the face of cultural pressure, the thinking goes, conformists relax their hair, and rebels have the courage not to. In some corners, relaxing one's hair is even seen as wishing to be white.

We've covered this issue many times, as has the Times, and the discussion is ongoing. Frankly, the debate does get tiring. Saint Louis writes that many people of color ask: "Why can't hair just be hair? Must an Afro peg a woman as the political heir to Angela Davis? Is a fashionista who replicates the first lady's clean-cut bob really being untrue to herself?"

But a quote from Noliwe M. Rooks, the associate director of the Center for African American Studies at Princeton, struck me as as close as we're going to get to an answer. She was asked about what it meant when the hair of Sasha and Malia Obama was sometimes pressed straight, and said: "There's a complexity to who we are now. There wasn't an easy answer to why."

Black Hair, Still Tangled in Politics [NY Times]

Earlier: Weaves, Extensions & "Creamy Crack": Chris Rock's Good Hair Trailer
Chris Rock's New Documentary Explores "Good" Hair
Solange Chops Hair, Is Called "Insane"
The Flesh-Eating Phonies Also Known As Lace-Front Wigs
Why Is Straight Hair The Epitome Of 'Style'?

Most of Amber Rose's Complex shoot, which was photographed by Matt Doyle, refers to iconic shots of Grace Jones. The image of Amber with jewelry in her mouth, for example, is a recreation of this picture of Grace eating diamonds, as photographed by Gordon Munro for Interview in the '80s:

There's Amber smoking in a tux…

And Grace smoking in a tux, on the cover of her 1981 album, Nightclubbing.

There's Amber in a cropped grey tee, with boxing hand wraps…

And Grace, on the cover of her '82 single "Pull Up To The Bumper," wearing a cropped grey tee and boxing tape.

There's Amber, her naked body covered in oil, posing with a whip…

And Grace, her naked body covered in oil, with a whip.

Perhaps most offensively, there's Amber in a cage.

And Grace in a cage.

The French artist Jean-Paul Goude shot that last image of Jones; the two were involved in a tempestuous and sometimes violent relationship. The objectification and exoticization of black women isn't incidental to Goude's art: it's the whole point. "Blacks are the premise of my work," the artist told People in 1979, "I have jungle fever."

In case anyone thought that was a joke, Jungle Fever was also the title of Goude's 1982 book. The shot of a caged Jones made the cover.

So it's no surprise that Goude shot Jones surrounded by raw meat, under a sign that reads "DO NOT FEED THE ANIMAL." But why would Complex choose to emulate images, some of which come across as not just dated, but riven with deep and troubling statements about black women as animalistic, primitive, and uncivilized creatures? Latoya Peterson has noted of such pictures that the women are always "looking like they are ready to fly off the page and attack." Claire Sulmers of The Fashion Bomb says of the Complex photos the message is that "these women are so wild they must be caged–they're sultry, snarling sex beasts."

Modeling opportunities for women of color in general are slim; as we know, far too many designers consider diversity on the runway and in their advertising to be entirely optional. The industry's slowness in even inviting black models to the metaphorical table is probably why, thirty years on, Grace Jones remains the most easily identifiable short-haired black model, and therefore a ready subject with which for Complex to associate the close-cropped, bi-racial Amber Rose. (Imagine if Jerry Hall were still considered the only and ultimate blonde model, or Paulina Porizkova were still the touchstone brunette, and white models starting their careers were constantly booked on jobs that recreated exclusively those women's old spreads.)

The industry's general unwillingness to embrace models of color as anything besides the exoticized "other" is thwarting the development and popularization of other kinds of black beauty. Even Alek Wek, the Sudanese supermodel, noted that she was often asked to pose in spreads that she felt fitted into a wider and more troubling tradition of black people's representation in the mainstream media, particularly with regard to a Lavazza calendar where she posed inside a coffee cup, her skin intended to represent the espresso. As Wek wrote in her memoir, "I can't help but compare them to all the images of black people that have been used in marketing over the decades. There was the big-lipped jungle-dweller on the blackamoor ceramic mugs sold in the '40s; the golliwog badges given away with jam; Little Black Sambo, who decorated the walls of an American restaurant chain in the 1960s; and Uncle Ben, whose apparently benign image still sells rice."

It's worth noting that in re-creating these pictures, Complex did tone them down; gone are the chains from the whip photo, and so too is the raw meat and the sign explicitly referring to the model as an animal in the cage photo. The choices the Complex art director made are almost certainly intended to mitigate the offense of the original images; we've come at least some way as a society since Jean-Paul Goude's day. But how long will it be before we automatically recognize any picture of a black woman caged up like an animal as offensive?

Amber Rose [Complex]
Caged Black Women: Amber Rose & Grace Jones [The Fashion Bomb]
When Disco Queen Grace Jones Lamented 'I Need a Man,' Artist Jean-Paul Goude Prowled Too Near Her Cage [People]
Darker Skinned Glamour Girls [Racialicious]
Bitter Coffee [NY Post]

Earlier:
How Did New York Fashion Week's 116 Shows Treat Models Of Color?

The premise of the film came from Rock's own daughter, who asked him why she didn't have "good" hair. It looks like Rock talked to both men and women, celebrities and regular folks, for a spectrum of viewpoints. On question: Would any of the stunningly beautiful women in the clip — Salt N Pepa; Raven-Symone; Meagan Good; Nia Long — be celebrities if they had natural hair?

Coincidentally, there is a debate going on over a YouTube video called "Nappy Ass Hair," in which someone is seen (violently?) trying to comb out a little girl's hair. NPR's Dani Tucker notes: "Hair grooming is still a painful, or brutal, experience for too many young women of color." But isn't that because forcing black hair to fit a certain mold that is "acceptable" and "professional" in a white-dominated world is always going to be a struggle?

Good Hair: Chris Rock's Harrowing Investigation Into Raven-Symone's Weave [Movieline]
Good or Bad Hair?: Hair Combing Video Stirs Debate [NPR]
Beauty, the Brush and Black Girl Pain [The Root]
Nappy Ass Hair [YouTube]

In this video, the So In Style designer, Stacey McBride — who is black — explains that she wanted the dolls to have skin tones, make-up and facial features that were "true to girls in my community." Courtney, the cheerleader doll, has a fuller nose and fuller lips than regular Barbie. Trichelle, the doll "into art and journalism," has curly hair; Kara who loves math and music, has a "darker" skin tone, which McBride says is "almost my complexion," with pride.

Grace and Courtney
Kara and Kiana
Trichelle and Janessa

(The dolls seen above are prototypes; Kianna's hair will be more like Afro-puffs when the dolls are released.)

It's true that these dolls are a great alternative to blonde, blue-eyed Barbie. When I was a kid, I had Christie, who was Barbie's black friend, whose only difference was her skin color — she was basically Barbie, done in brown. But the new So In Style dolls still have some worrying Barbie traits — impossibly slender, long legs; tiny waists. And though a couple of the dolls have curls, others have long, light brown locks. Hair can be a complicated subject for black women, and it would be sad for any little girl to feel as if her texture wasn't desirable or represented.

But, is it a positive step forward? Definitely. Writes Hill:

The dolls come in pairs of big and little sisters to encourage mentoring relationships.… They may not be mirror-perfect, but they come closer to the fantasy than my childhood playthings. I would want these dolls for my daughter.

Toward An ‘Authentic' Black Barbie [The Root]

[Images via Toys R Us]

1. First there's the rampant Photoshoppery. Not just on the ladies — take a look at the diamonds under the word "dimepiece" on the cover.


2. The models. Though the publication delivers a mix of interviews with rappers and half-clothed ladies, the models are actually the stars, and there's an interview with each one. After spending so much time looking at the lean, curveless cookie-cutter jumping mannequins that women's magazines offer, it's oddly refreshing to see a completely different body type on display. Not just on display — fetishized, sexualized, celebrated. These women — who would never be seen in Vogue — are superstars on these pages. And as sexy as these poses are — as butt-focused as the magazine is — there's actually very little nudity. Nipples are covered; thongs and underwear are worn.

Although: To be clear: This is a magazine featuring women with big butts. That is why it exists. It's not high-brow, it's not intended to be social commentary. It's what you call spank bank material. It reduces women to parts. Still: It's fascinating to see these women posing with confidence, since most of the world tells them that they are not the right height, size or shape to model.

3. Ethnic diversity. More than you might think.

4. "My Girlfriend Got A Girlfriend." While crudely illustrated with one woman holding a fork while between the other woman's legs, this interview deals with lesbian misconceptions and stereotypes. In addition, this magazine also has a story called "Why Gay Hip-Hop/Rap?" which argues that rappers have stolen style cues from Liberace and Elton John and a gay rapper would be "hip-hop's chance to live out its true meaning — that is; a voice to the voiceless, an all-inclusive genre which transcends…"

5. The cupcake diet, recommended by a model named "Seven."

6. A model with what seems to be a visible Cesarean scar.

7. "The 10 Model Commandments," which reads like a Crap Magazine Essay From A Dude. While some of these assertions - "nobody likes a liar," "nobody likes a thief" — are valid; the author loses me on number 6, with its Biblical "unsanitary female" whining.

For starters, I love Diff'rent Strokes references and can appreciate this line:

"They were trying to treat me like a jive turkey," said Willis. "No way I was going with them white dudes without my little bro."

…But the general gist of the piece — look, Angelina Jolie is collecting brown kids! — seems so 2005.

But even worse is the fact that, all jokes aside, the largest percent of children in foster care are African-American; and studies show that these kids are "negatively characterized and labeled" by the system. So would it be so terrible for two boys living in foster care to get adopted by Angelina Jolie?

One Jezebel reader thinks so! We got an email from someone who probably didn't "get" that the HuffPo piece was a joke. She wrote:

"This is completely disturbing… Adopting two children, ages 10 and 13, who have been living in foster care, is a HUGE DEAL as these are children who have been neglected and/or abused and require a lot of attention and PARENTING... which they surely will not get with 6 younger siblings and parents who are constantly jet-setting around the world. UGH."

But if the foster system is "unkind" to black kids, wouldn't jet-setting around with Brad and Angie be a step up? Or at least less of a learning curve than living with Mr. Drummond?

Brad and Angelina Set To Adopt Two More Black Children [HuffPo]

1. Where else will you learn that Ice Cube shops? And "today was a good day" is the best caption ever. He didn't have to use his AK at the grocery store. Phew.

2. Dave Chappelle's kid looks like a tiny, part-Asian Dave Chappelle. Who knew?

3. There is nothing wrong with eye candy.

4. In In Touch, Serena Williams in a bikini was on the "They Could Use A Little Work" page. Here, she's celebrated as being "built for contact." As it should be.

5. Believe-it-or-not stories are always awesome and stranger than fiction.

6. "Dope or Nope" is our new favorite game.

7. Houston — who had a hit song in 2004 called "I Like That" — gouged out his own eye in 2005; may or may not have gone to a mental hospital in 2008 and is currently "on medication." Plus: Updates on R&B stars of the '90s, like the ladies of SWV, Adina "Freak Like Me" Howard and the guys from Next.

8. When your magazine brands itself as "the definitive voice of urban culture," book selections will include a story about a stripper; a novel detailing a "secret sorority" in which ladies have nicknames like "Ride Em High" and "Lick Em"; a "Vixen Manual" and the Sex Games Bible. Who needs Oprah's book club?


Earlier: New Kid On The Newsstand

Although several plot points will be glossed over or withheld, and most of what I'm writing about is in the trailer, this could get a little spoilery, so be warned.

The premise: Four guys travel to Las Vegas for a Bachelor weekend; three wake up in a hotel with no memory of what happened, but there's a tiger — and a baby — in the room.

The guys are all jerks, pretty much: Bradley Cooper's character, Phil, is the biggest, and, in an early scene, he calls Ed Helms' character — who is a dentist — "Dr. Faggot." Lots of laughs in the theater, but not from me. Zach Galifianakis — playing Alan, a guy who is "not right" in the head, is amazing, and funny, and really the breakout star of the film. But many of the supporting roles are tired clichés. The one black guy — besides Mike Tyson — is a drug dealer. There's an Asian gangster-type, who minces and lisps and generally embarrasses both Asians and gays. And then there are the women.

Ed Helms' character, Stu, is living with a woman played by bespectacled Rachel Harris. She is brunette, and looks Liz Lemony — brainy, successful — so naturally, she is a shrill, cold, shrew who nags and berates him into submission. Once he's in Vegas, Stu's character ends up marrying the blonde, wide-eyed Jade — played by Heather Graham — a hooker with a heart of gold.

Of course, you don't go to this kind of film looking for depth and complexity. It's a roller-coaster ride of smart and darkly funny entertainment. But with such great casting, some excellent jokes and thrilling action, why rest on lame brunette vs. blonde, frigid bitch vs. whore stereotypes?

The other question is this: If it's cool to laugh at these bad boys, does that make it cool to also laugh at calling wimpy dudes "faggots"?

That's my take; here's what the critics are saying:

NPR:

The Hangover, Hollywood's most destructive stag-party trip to Las Vegas since 1998's Very Bad Things, works backward from a morning-after shambles that's amusingly surreal. But this bad-boy comedy runs out of laughs long before it's reconstructed the things its four protagonists shouldn't have done during the night they can't remember.

Time:

Unless your definition of pure perversity includes the portrayal of a convicted pedophile ("I'm not supposed to be within 200 feet of a school," says Alan, "or a Chuck-E Cheese") who's given weekend custody of a baby; or if your idea of the decade's funniest movie would contain a scene where our heroes get repeatedly tasered before a class of cheering children. You'll also need an indulgence for racial (Asian) and sexual (gay) stereotyping, and the sight of inappropriate gentlemen with their pants off. […] Virtually every joke either is visible long before it arrives or extends way past its expiration date.[…] This is a bromance so primitive it's practically Bro-Magnon.

Salon:

Crude, audacious and anarchic… And yet "The Hangover" is a cut above the typical contemporary guy-friendship comedy […] It builds in us an increasingly squirrelly sense of anxiety, a mounting certainty that none of this is going to turn out OK.

Slate:

The setups are funnier than the follow-through… The movie loses momentum rather than picking it up. This kind of "one crazy night" tale relies on drum-tight structure to work. Without it, The Hangover sputters to a sentimental halt…

Still, it's worth staying for the closing credits, in which an outrageous photo montage finally reveals what transpired during the boys' collective blackout.

NY Times:

The Hangover peaks early and runs out of steam long before the end.
Still, there are some moments of dizzying, demented lunacy, most of them immune to being spoiled by mere verbal description.
But true to its title, "The Hangover" goes down smoothly enough and then kicks you in the head later on, when you start to examine the sources of your laughter. There's the easy, lazy trafficking in broad ethnic caricature - Mike Epps as a black drug dealer, Ken Jeong as a prancing, lisping Asian gangster known as Mr. Chow - which is decked out in flimsy air quotes to make it seem as if the movie is making fun of racism.

The Hangover opens today



The Hangover [Trailer Addict]
Earlier: What's So Funny About A Man With A Baby?