Looking at a whole bunch of old Cover Lies is a great way to remind yourself that ladymags just recycle the same old weight-loss, man-snagging, and faux-self-improvement tropes again and again and again. In February Cosmo, for instance, we saw the Simple Way To Revolutionize Your Life. Yes, ladies, it's breathing. Millions of women have died because they ignored this basic tip.

Am I normal? Is he? You might not give a shit, but one important goal of ladymags is to make sure you and your genitals are conforming enough. So get out the measuring tape and appraise various aspects of your "down-there."

Of course, the Weight Loss Tip is also an essential part of the woman's magazine anatomy. These tips fall into two categories: Totally Insane, and So Basic That If It Worked Everyone Would Be Skinny. May Glamour offers the latter.

Like the Weight Loss Tip, the Sex Tip changes little from month to month. May Cosmo (May was an especially lie-alicious month) offered pull-out cards with tame sex fantasies — like going to a wedding in nice clothes — for those who can't even think up lame, cliched scenarios on their own.

Another tried-and-true ladymag trick is to promise scandal and deliver saccharine. May Vogue was full of models talking about how nice other models are — just like how every celebrity in Hollywood loves every other celebrity, every famous marriage is perfect, and every star stays thin by chasing after her kids.

It might seem like it's easy just to churn out monthly variations on tired themes, but the staff at magazines actually have it rough: they have to take all the free shit advertisers send to them and somehow shoehorn it into what passes for an editorial feature. A frequent solution is the "20, 30, 40" method — age categories that are, as June Marie Claire makes clear, pretty much random.

Dividing women into age categories isn't just a way to sell cosmetics — it's a way to promote clothes too. August Vogue did this by putting the ancient, decrepit Christy Turlington on its cover, then filling its interior with teenage and twentysomething models supposedly showing off looks for older women. Also a Vogue standby: the terrifying cosmetic procedure. Here it's "Inner Eyelid Laser Incineration."

Elle is often especially good at featuring clothes that look good on no one. As a bonus, the September issue also offered some eyeshadow "tips from hos."

Related to the Completely Unflattering Outfit is the Completely Absurd Photo Shoot — and Vogue really excels in this department. In October, highlights included several combinations of things that shouldn't be combined: tennis and breakfast in bed, boxing and evening gowns, horses and hats.

Of course, the secret weapon of all ladymags is that they're completely depressing. Whether they're telling you that your man will leave you because you're too successful, or doling out confusing, contradictory sartorial advice, if you read enough of them you will not want to eat, have sex, go to work, or even get dressed. All you will be able to do is lie in bed and read magazines. Which is exactly their plan.

Reader: piratabeata "This is me (piratabeata) and my best friend from high school circa 2003. My sister gave me those pleather pants from Hot Topic when I turned sixteen, and you better believe they were a staple of my early aughts wardrobe, along with the cat collar choker. I wore them so much they cracked. You also probably never saw me without pigtails for the better part of 2000-2004. I kind of wish this was a full length picture so you could see the ridiculous Spice Girl-esque platform shoes that I was rocking, too. I like how my best friend was trying so hard to look like a Catholic schoolgirl. We knew we were awesome."


Reader: cinematheques "Halloween, 2007. Halloween is always a good time to find something terrible (and in this case, classic as well) at a thrift store and build a costume around it. I just put flour and a stream of lipstick under my nose, coupled with some pretty gross fishnets with holes and VOILA ! I am an 80s coke queen. Also, I really, really, really don't condone fake eyelashes. Ouchies. I pretty much look the same, but back to my natural hair color."


Reader: maneki neko "Photo from the fall of 2003. The early 00s fashions could not have possibly been more ill-suited to my body, or anyone's, really. Remember how all the shirts were realllllllllly short, and all the pants were reallllllllllllly low cut? I sure do. For someone with a long torso like me, this was an unbelievably cruel fate, and I ended up looking pretty silly until tunics finally came into fashion. I remember thinking this top was really cute, probably because of the bell sleeves (remember those?), even though looking at this photo now you can see that I'm one sholder movement away from exposing my naval. And I'm pretty sure those are Mudd jeans, flared, naturally. I have absolutely no explanation for my hair, but I can't stop laughing."


Reader: Catie "This is a picture of my sister, Allie, and I from 2004. We are rocking the newsboy cap trend a la Britney. I am wearing a polo shirt and for some reason my sister has long fake orange nails. The pose was meant to be silly. I pretty much laugh every time I see this picture lol The title of it is particularly 00's…it's named after that segment called Sucker Free Sunday that aired on MTV2."


Reader: Raina "My friend and I (I'm on the right) at our Senior Prom... nice hair knots!!"


Reader: Raina "My mom would often snap photos of us on our way out the door on our way to school. This whole outfit kills me, and if you look really close, you can see tiny plastic butterfly clips in my hair!"


Reader: Kate "Me and my best friend at a high school semi-formal dance in 2002. I am the blonde... i.e. the one who thought it was appropriate to wear a faux-suede mini-skirt, matching hat, and hooker boots to a semi-formal. It's all so mortifying."


Reader: Avery "This picture, taken in '05, chronicles me in the height of my new york hipsterdom - I'm wearing pink neon zebra print tights, a neon blue top (that is sparkly?) and huge plastic earrings. The worst part about this is my "I'm hot shit" expression when I am so clearly not."


Reader: Adriana "Me in my college art studio, 2001. please note the janeane garofalo bangs, "ironic" backstreet boys shirt, metallic grey raver skirt and chunky black shoes with white stars on the toes. i think this entire outfit was from Hot Topic."


Reader: Bianca "I was my Law Student then-boyfriend's date for the Barrister's Ball in 2005, and BF's BFF's then-GF showed up wearing the exact same tacky 80's throwback dress as me. It was totally "US Magazine Who Wore It Best." I think I did (I'm the blonde), but I'm clearly biased here."


Reader: Lauren "This was taken in the spring of 2001, in my high school sophomore history class. The jean jacket and the (probably shoplifted) lip gloss and the eye glitter are classic (and you can't even see all the glitter, my eyelids are coated with chunky silver Pixie Dust) but my favorite part of this picture is obviously the nameplate Sagittarius necklace, which i bought from (where else?) Delia*s."


Reader: lenamonster "I'm pretty sure this was taken in 2003 (aka the end of my high school years - I was very fashion-y adventurous then). I'm wearing a bright yellow fake sports-style shirt (with see-through holes so you have to wear another shirt under it), tons of my cheap jelly/plastic bracelets, a necklace that I strung myself, big yellow sunglasses, and a plaid beret."


Reader: JadeJag There was no description with this photo, but I think it sums up many of the trends of the era , don't you?


Reader: A Jolly " Hi there. I'm mostly just a lurker on Jezebel, but I thought I'd send in a submission anyway. On this day in 2001, the gods frowned upon me. A trucker hat that sais "SICK" on it, knee-high socks, "candy" bracelet, bleach blonde and pink pigtails, awkwardly fitting mans shorts...Disaster. I was dj-ing at a party in a park, where I got really drunk and did a lot of beatwrecking. An embarassing day all around. :( Enjoy."


Reader: Michaela "The first group picture was taken in 2002, at a 15th birthday party (held at an all-you-can-eat buffet). Stripey turtle-necks, jean jackets and converse sneakers were pretty hot in my group."


Reader: Michaela "The 2nd is from 2007...and yes, it was my MySpace profile pic for a long time. Emo-chic 4 lyfe, yo."


Reader: Jess "I'm pretty sure almost every teenage girl had a photo like this in the early 2000s. This photo was taken some time between 2002 and 2003. I really wanted to be "punk" in those days, so I saved up and bought myself a "Squire" electric and taught myself one song. I soon realized I looked absolutely stupid and didn't like electric guitar. Come to think of it, I was also obsessed with really ill-fitting fleece sweaters in those days. Wish I had a photo of that! Oh, I totally forgot to mention that my concept of "punk" at the time was (clearly) drawn entirely from Avril Lavigne. Everyone pretended they didn't want to be her and secretly spent every night listening to "complicated" on repeat. [Ed. This is totally true, you guys.]


Reader: Sarah "Year Taken: 2000 Description: My friend Jeanette (left) and me rocking one of the trends: the Asian character tee. We both wore the same type of shirt completely coincidentally; this shows how pervasive this particular trend was. I should point out that another friend's Chinese parents were pretty amused by all these shirts. Do we know what the hell they say? No. But it 'looks cool.'"


Reader: Gweedle "This was when I was 16 I believe, so around 2002-2003. My neon blue Le Tigre shirt, furry leopard print skirt, vintage pink jacket, paisley knee high stockings with maryjanes - one of many outfits where I tried to mesh a million styles together and failed miserably but thought I looked really cool."


Reader: Penny_Esq "Okay, so this was my 19th birthday, August 2000. This photo features chunky shoes, some kind of Eastern-religion-themed tee shirt, fake Chloe aviators, and an "edgy" twisty updo. As a bonus, my friend on the left is wearing a pink velour leopard print tank top and a feather boa. Also note that all three of us are sporting pleather pants, although that would be the one and only time I wore mine. We went to an underage club to dance, and as I commenced dropping it like it was hot, those pants split from zipper to ass crack AND down the insides of the legs, leaving my lady bits flapping in the breeze for all to admire. I had to shuffle out of the club sandwiched front-to-back between my two friends and still at least three guys tried to tip me. I never returned to that club, and I have never, EVER tried to drop it like it's hot again."

While Sun-In may have been a highlight lifesaver for some, I either didn't follow the directions properly or the solution had a weird reaction with my often-chlorinated swimmer's hair, as my "highlights" left me with a bright orange mop atop my head that took months to fade away. It wasn't the worst of my hair disasters, however: there was a truly heinous haircut during my freshman year of college that left me with about an inch of hair on my head and Kate Gosselin-eque bangs (which I later trimmed myself, which made things worse, as I looked like a four-year-old), and of course the time I spent a summer continually dying my hair a shade of drugstore-brand red, which left me with faded purple hues and creepy blood-colored dye stains in my shower. And then there was the time when I decided to go back to my "natural blonde" by attempting to bleach the red out of my hair, which left me looking like Pink's sad, slightly deranged older sister.

There's not much you can do with a terrible haircut but let it grow, and dye jobs are often fixable, though they come with a price, for both your wallet and the overall health of your hair. Over the years I've learned that I'm a total idiot when it comes to my own hair, and that dying and trimming are best left to the professionals. Of course, in a recession, that means my hair has to go through awkward periods of growth and obvious roots, but in my case I'll take the hair of someone who hasn't been to the salon in a while over the hair of someone who looks like they just stepped out of a Kajagoogoo video from 1983.

So what were your worst hair disasters? And how did you fix them?

Sun-In [Vintage Ads]

[Las Vegas, December 8. Image via Flynet]

If Jonathan Saunders's eight-benjamin tee (it has, like, colors) isn't quite twee enough for you, you can shell out just $70 for a wifebeater that says some bullshit about an "imposter chicken" who drives a bus. The same annoying hipster who enjoys this gift might like a class on pickling things in Brooklyn (can Vena Cava's designer Chuck Taylors be pickled? What about that wooden iPod dock by Vers?). Or perhaps a volunteer vacation — because nothing says "happy holidays" like forced WWOOFing. And for your "overstressed and undersexed" friend, why not a free checkup for adrenal fatigue — a vague and ill-defined condition best cured by the innovative treatment of getting enough sleep. Sadly not included in December Vogue is the much-needed pull-out greeting card: "Merry Christmas! I'm concerned about your glands!"

In the wonderfully titled piece, "Ridicule Keeps Fans of Harem Pants From Getting Too Big for Their Britches" Rachel Dodes interviews several women who claim that they're not going to let go of their fancy harem pants anytime soon, regardless of what critical friends, family members, or strangers have to say about it. "I feel like I look very chic in my harem pants," Maggie Betts, who spent $400 on a pair of black silk harem pants, tells Dodes, "Anybody who makes fun of me doesn't know the truth and is a loser."

The pants, as hideous as some of us (by some of us, I mean: me) think they are, are actually selling quite well, and Dodes notes that the reactions they elicit might be the reason. The attention might not always be positive, but it's there, and the women who wear the pants enjoy the challenge of wearing pieces that require confidence to pull off. "It's a form of antifashion," Professor Dincuff Charleston tells Dodes, "If you can pull it off, you know you're incredibly stylish."

Here's where I run into a bit of trouble: is it really "antifashion" if these women are dropping hundreds of dollars on these pants because they saw them on the runways and in the pages of Vogue and on the legs of famous celebrities? Is wearing a pair of pants simply because they're so ugly really that daring if the people who "get fashion" are right there with you? If they're selling "quite well" in several stores? If everyone who makes fun of you for wearing them "doesn't know the truth and is a loser?"

In the end, I suppose it comes down to what you feel most comfortable in. If some women truly love their harem pants, then more power to them. But as with every other stylistic choice ever, the rest of the world doesn't have to love harem pants, as well, and they certainly aren't a bunch of losers for opting to side-step the Hammer-revival trend. The fashion magazines may continue to push this trend for yet another season, but sometimes, you can't make fetch happen, no matter how hard you try.

[Image via BBC]

Ridicule Keeps Fans Of Harem Pants From Getting Too Big For Their Britches [Wall Street Journal]

From its bizarre combination of resort-wear and guerrilla gardening (hoeing in Donna Karan wedges seems like a great way to twist an ankle) to its gushy coverage of "wwoofing" (working without pay on an organic farm), November Vogue does a great job of portraying environmentalism as a fun hobby for rich people with time on their hands. Perhaps most egregious is Sally Singer's piece on hiring consultants to help make her apartment in the Chelsea Hotel more environmentally friendly. She laments that it's hard for her to save energy because "I receive no water, gas, or electricity bills." And her cleaning lady "cannot understand why her beloved long-handled dust mop must make way for a cut-up organic T-shirt on a bamboo stick." But somehow, Singer pushes through. After all, she says, "at yoga class, they tell you that if you breathe correctly, your virtue will be contagious and the world will begin to change" — and surely, if you write about your virtue in Vogue, other rich people will make their cleaning ladies scrub the floors with T-shirts too. Be the change you want to see!

Inside, Swank is forced to cavort awkwardly in a pond (ruining some very nice $407 boots) in order to show she "knows how to have fun." Then Coles asks her to bust some "myths" about herself, including the somewhat contradictory assumptions that she "sits around in designer gowns all day" and doesn't have "a girly-girl bone" in her body. I'm not sure where my girly-girl bone is located, but Swank's is apparently in the foot area, because her response to this particular ridiculousness is "I'm a big foot-soaker." If all this wasn't enough to put a grimace on Swank's face, Coles also asks her if it's true she has no friends. But at least she doesn't have to wear any sequins, which appear in the magazine on a pair of ridiculous silver harem pants — and lots of other places they shouldn't.

Though I honestly don't know anyone who is going to (intentionally) wear Spanx as outerwear, unless they're dressing as an Ace bandage for Halloween, I wouldn't be surprised if I saw someone walking down the street working a support garment as if it were the hottest thing on Earth. That's the nature of trends, really; some people find them ridiculous, and others embrace and celebrate them.

I have a tendency to panic when reading trend reports; I go worst case scenario and imagine stores filled with only "sexy" band-aid pants and the shorts-over-tights ensembles that I already rocked pretty hard in 1994, and I begin to slip into fashion Grinch mode, calling everything "stupid" and "ugly" and "annoying," as if that's going to stop Suzy McModel from wearing—and looking adorable in—a pair of plaid shorts and a shirt with four boats and a clump of bird feathers stuck to the front of it.

This season has already sent me into a panic: my initial reaction when reading Moore's piece, which predicts the return of "dress-up denim" and "Lycra bike shorts everywhere," was the reaction I typically get when reading fashion pieces or seeing fashion shows: "I don't get it." But the truth is that there are many, many people who do "get it," and who love it, so for those of us horrified and irritated by the trends (and those of us who don't feel like "reliving" the 80s for the 900th time, good lord), it's just a matter of trying to find the silver lining in a dark, Lycra spandex storm cloud.

Yes, it'll be harder to find certain things once the trends take over, but at the same time, the point of fashion is to take something and make it your own, and, I've been told, to find your own style and stick with it. The best part about trends, as overwhelming as they may be, is that they serve merely as an inspiration to create your own unique look; ruffles are in, sheer is in, stripes are in, shorts are in, and yes, Spanx are in, and though the magazines and the runways and the stores will present one way of wearing these things, in the end, as always, it's up to you to decide what really makes it from the runway to your closet.

What Might Make It From The Runways To The Store Racks [LA Times]

There are only three words to describe Padma Lakshmi: red hot mama.


As you know, I find this whole random-peekaboo trend rather tiresome. But man is Halle working it!


And speaking of which: who could work this good-witch fantasia like Iman?


Gotta say it: on occasiona, Grenier cleans up well. And I mean "cleans up" literally.


Hey, Mary J never said she cared about keeping a a reptile alive!


Gayle King: apparently highly influenced by that 'Mad Men'-themed Oprah! What say you?


Luck be a lady tonight.


Estelle takes the whole "Rescue" element literally and channels a sinister leather-clad girl scout.


Love Kerry Washington, love "Ascot Gavotte" - so what's not to adore?

[Images via Getty]

Women's Wear Daily had perhaps the harshest reaction to Lohan's foray into fashion, advising her to "get serious about reviving the acting career," and though some critics agree with this assessment, other critics found a few bright spots to celebrate.

L.A. Times

When Lohan came out for a runway bow, her eyes were full of tears. And it's easy to see why. After all the hullabaloo over her appointment a month ago, with some fashion insiders suggesting it was an insult to anyone who had ever really worked in design, it had to have been the walk of shame to end all.

The Associated Press

Expectations going into the show were low. Still, the collection was not the utter disaster that many had - almost gleefully - predicted. It was chock-full of more of the ultra-mini party girl dresses that have flooded Paris' catwalks this season, but it also had some nice, wearable suits that harkened back to Ungaro's heyday in the 1980s.

Women's Wear Daily

No one ever said fashion design is brain surgery. It's a different discipline altogether. But it is indeed a discipline and a commercial art, a fact variously muted and underscored by the celebrity infiltration of the last decade. And like brain surgery - yes, like brain surgery and all disciplines at which people work for years to develop proficiency - it has its rare geniuses and capable practitioners, all of whom must possess talent, skill and dedication. Being a young, pretty, controversial woman who looks good in clothes and photo ops just isn't enough.

New York Times:

Emanuel Ungaro was a couture king of drape and shape. When a swathe of white dress was covered with a white fur stole, there was some attempt to move from teen night out to a couture elegance. Yet will this collection of hearts but with no soul be enough to entice young women who could probably find these looks anywhere?

The Telegraph

The collection she collaborated on with the Spanish designer, Estrella Archs, was hardly an unqualified success. How could it be when the pair, chiefly Archs, had only three weeks to pull it together? Ungaro himself, who founded his house in 1965, must be horrified at the arrogance of even thinking it could be done. He would have spent that time on a single piece. The best that can be said is that they tried.

At Ungaro, Mayhem Erupts Over Lindsay Lohan [ABCNews]
Paris Fashion Week: Lindsay Lohan's First Emmanuel Ungaro Collection Is A Walk Of Shame [LATimes]
Hearts But No Soul [NYTimes]
Paris Fashion Week: Ungaro Spring/Summer 2010 [The Telegraph]

Earlier: Lindsay Lohan Makes Her Debut As Ungaro's Artistic Director At Paris Fashion Week

So pretty. Silver and ruffles are all over the place for Spring 2010, and this dress manages to be on trend and breathtaking at the same time.


Can't you just see Blair Waldorf in this?


Unlike most of the collections that I've seen this season (but again, I could be wrong, so feel free to set me straight!) Lagerfeld's shorts seem to be a bit longer. I love the length on these; not too short, but not dowdy, either.


Simple but gorgeous. I am a sucker for ballerina pink, though.


I love this! It's like a slightly punked out Audrey Hepburn.


This is a master at work: everything is just cut so beautifully and falls like a dream.


Remember when I said Lohan's Ungaro collection looked a bit like mall knockoffs? This would be the high fashion original it was knocking off, I think.


Super cute. Not crazy about the belly trend that's back in, because I already lived through 1997, but this is done tastefully and the pattern is adorable.


This model is striking a badass pose because she knows how badass her outfit is. Get it!


This dress ties everything together; beautiful lines, perfect patterns, silver, black, and white, and overall excellence.


I'm not always the biggest fan of everything Karl Lagerfeld says, but you'd be hard pressed to look at this collection and not admire what the man does. Beautiful, beautiful work. Or at least I think so. What do you think?

And, as always in Von Furstenberg World, that's a wrap!

Alexander Wang: Actively Sporty [FashionWireDaily]