No seriously, they said she wasn't tan enough or something. Though judging from that old pic of Gloria in her bunny suit, the tan is just another way idealized standards of beauty have gotten more unattainable over the years. In other news, Pratt's ex-assistant Karen Yampolsky did something slightly more original than trying out to be a Playboy Bunny and wrote a thinly-veiled tell-all about her experiences at the magazine (I actually read this) which she tells Rush & Molloy she wrote on her work computer:

"I think the Conde Nast executives forgot I was still there, so I used their computers to write about their magazine folding."

They lie to their superiors about their circulation numbers and they make two sales calls on days their gracious editor makes twelve. They're rude to restaurant servers and they install their coke-addicted ex-subordinates in key editorial functions at the magazine. They spend most of their time jockeying and playing political games within "Nestrom Publications" and the rest of it going to fancy restaurants. But worst they don't really seem to understand at all what Jill — which is to say, Jane — is about. They don't care about pop culture. They don't care about indie rock. They try to woo all the wrong advertisers — a cokehead diva designer named "Graciella D'Alessandro," for instance — by forcing the Jane staff to write stories about them.

Falling Out Of Fashion is certainly not a tome of nuance or um much literary merit, but it highlights the unending problem of magazine publishing, which is why we're so obsessed with it: is it the fault of writers, or sales people, to sell a magazine? If producing a publication that is smart fails, is it the fault of the readers, or the advertisers? Was Jane itself too smart? Or too stupid?

This will um not be the last you hear from us on this topic.