"Celeste?" you said. "Is your name 'Celeste'?" No one would confuse me, Vincent, for a Celeste, any more than they'd take you for a straight man, so yes. I got your memo. You are famous, in a way, and that's why I thought I knew you, in a way. The only question now is, are you really famous? Certainly Project Runway is an absolutely huge show. A "phenomeonon," even. But alas like so many gigantic pop cultural phenomena — 24, say, or Hannah Montana — I don't actually watch it. These are fragmented times for the audiences of media properties, with highly consumptive, irresponsible demographics like mine so attractive to advertisers there are, at any given time, dozens, HUNDREDS of types of programming vying for our eyeballs. I might even venture to say there are too many famous people. And just as in the realm of the non-famous, sometimes even famous people have to distinguish themselves as, you know, famous. And so, for you and your funny little advance, I have two little words of advice:

Neck tatoos. Look into them.

Honestly Rosie? That picture of your daughter Vivi dressed as a child soldier went too far. Although I love your blog — it can be one of the most interesting and insightful sites on the internet — that photograph of Vivi cloaked in drab, grey-green camouflage with a scarf tied around her head and a "sash" of bullets was startling, to say the least. Despite what your rep said this morning, about the picture being the result of harmless fun, I can only imagine you posted it as some sort of political message, especially since you accompanied it with the following words as explanation: "A picture is worth a thousand posts." So which is it? Harmless fun or something larger? (Certainly you know that something this provocative is not just some memento-making from children at play: Your youngest daughter is clad in camouflage, staring wide-eyed into the camera and wrapped in bullets.) So I'll assume the latter, no matter your current public spin, and pose some questions. Was your point that there are child soldiers fighting in wars in less obviously unfortunate parts of the world than ours? If so, then there was no need to use your child to make a statement. You are fortunate to be the mother to a large family, with many healthy and happy children. Respect this, and do not use your own brood as a physicalized version of a parent telling a child to eat their dinner because there are children starving in _____ (fill in the blank with fashionably-impoverished country of your choosing). Or was the point that we need better gun control in this country? I hope not. I hope that you — one of the loudest, strongest, and in turn most necessary voices of gun control advocacy in this country — do not let your children play with toy guns. It's hypocritical: Sending both mixed messages to the children and the public. (I had always imagined your house to be a more idealized place: Your children aren't even permitted to watch television.) And it's exploitative: To make a child an unknowing partner in a very specific political message before that child is old enough to have the capability to form her own political ideas makes you no different than the manipulative, cynical right-wingers whom you revile.

Like I said earlier, Rosie, I've long admired you. And I — we — really could use some explanation on this one, and not in the form of some flippant statement to People magazine from your flak. Someone as articulate and as opinionated as you can do better; a lot better. So tell us: What did you mean to communicate by posting that picture? Tell us how exactly it came about. You've never been shy about expressing your thoughts and feelings before, especially not in regards to this war. I want to still believe that we stand together in speaking out for an end to violence and injustice — so tell me something that lets me continue to believe that's true. Because right now, you've lost my trust.

—Jennifer

Lucky's Taste Too "Rich" For Us [GlossedOver]
Earlier: Hating The Word 'Lurve'
'Lucky' Magazine Readers Have A Very Good Year. The Rest Of Us? Not So Much!

Sometimes I'd also score a small victory by peppering a Bitchelorette with questions — like, "Any pastries with that today?" (Ha! As if) or "Would you like to try our new maple scone?" or "Do you need a corrugated coffee carrier with that?" or "How would you like a copy of a poignant book about the Lost Boys of Sudan?" — but filling her cup with whole milk (preferably with a dash of skim milk foam at the top so as to disguise the rich, velvety, full-fat liquid below) was by far the most satisfying method. Now, Mr. Schultz, I know what you're thinking. You're thinking: "But you could produce the same result by pouring a few ounces of hot half-and-half to a 2% latte!" Yes, but! That, however, would seem less like a careless mistake (that, if uncovered, would only reinforce their stereotypes of people who employed in the food service industry) and more like those Taco Bell guys who got sued for blowing their noses into cops' chalupas. With whose deep-seated sociological frustrations baristas do not identify. Because we get health benefits.

XO,
Moe

Starbucks Switches To 2% Milk [Washington Post]

Quite frankly, we're worried about Addison. She used to be one fierce bitch, but the more time she spent in Seattle, the whinier and weaker she got. So we're understandably concerned that when she make the big move to L..A., her sass will only further erode. So as a preventative measure, we've come up with ahem, a prescription we think will help both bring her back to her former ways, and save her from becoming another vapid LA twat.

Doctor's Notes For Addison Montgomery:

1) Don't go blonde. We know, we know — everyone's doing it and you want to fit in with your new surroundings. But a good 80% of your character is that you are, simply, the chick with the fiery locks. Keep it that way.

2) Don't starve yourself. If we wanted a series centered around an emaciated woman, Meredith Grey would have gotten the gig.

3) Hook up with the hottest doc we've seen yet, Sam [Taye Diggs]. Sure, Sam's the ex-husband of your best friend, but not only would that not have deterred the old you, it would have encouraged you. Go for it. Please.

4) Do not hook up with the surfer dude who plays receptionist at the clinic. First off, aforementioned best friend has a thing for him. Ex-husbands are one thing. Rebound eye-candy is a whole other story. Also, we're not sure he's of legal age, and while your judgment has been slipping lately, even you wouldn't put yourself at risk of statutory rape.

5) Sort out that whiny therapist girl, Violet, stat. Shoot her mean looks and if that doesn't work, sleep with her newly-married ex-boyfriend. Tough love is needed, and no one knows that better than you.

6) And whatever you do, do not — we repeat, DO NOT — go to Pinkberry. One spoonful of yogurt, and you're too far gone to save, girl. Pinkberry is what blonde, eating-disordered L.A. girls do to solve their problems instead of, say, sleeping with their best friend's ex-husband. You are not that woman.

To sum up: Have safe, legal sex, don't touch your hair, and eat . (Just not yogurt).

Addison's Loading Up the U-Haul for LA [People.com]

We read your story in the Times about Hadaka Sushi, a new L.A. eatery that offers nyotaimori — the practice using near-naked women to serve as human sushi platters.

According to you, successfully navigating a gig as a human sushi platter demands a disarming, gleaming white smile, blonde hair, the ability to suppress one's regular breathing pattern (lest one disturb the fishes!), and an iron will. In fact, as you said:

Rachael — her full name is Rachael Biggs, a publicist said — seemed to enjoy the evening as much as anyone could while lying supine and being poked by chopsticks. To an onlooker, the most disturbing aspect of her job might be Hadaka's rule that forbids a model to eat the sushi that rests inches away from her mouth.

"Most disturbing"? If working as a naked, immobile mute with the ability to suppress both her breathing pattern and her appetite isn't a woman's worst nightmare, we don't know what is. Then again, there's the fact that it is Hollywood, we are bitches, and you seem like kind of an asshole.

Selling The Sizzle Even Though It's Sushi [NYTimes]
Related: The Pornography Of Meat [Amazon.com]