Details of Kim's death are still emerging. This morning, Paris Match wrote that sources inside the police investigation say the model left a suicide note. Fellow gossip title Le Parisien stated that "multiple sources" are saying that Kim's father, a Samsung executive, does not believe his daughter killed herself. Kim's mother flew to Paris on Friday, and her father arrived in the city today. An autopsy is to be performed tomorrow — standard police procedure for violent deaths — and the pathologist's findings may be known as soon as the end of this week.

Friends of the young model are also speaking to the press. Several people told the Telegraph that Kim, in the words of reporter Kim Willshire, "had become fed up with modeling and its demands, considering her life was too frenetic and incompatible with forming the sort of long-term relationship she hankered for." Another anonymous friend said Kim would sometimes dodge her agency's calls in order to carve out some time for herself. One of Kim's former agents said, "She was an excellent model, but she used to say she had hard times off the job."

But the richest source of information on Daul Kim remains her blog. The temptation of recent posts that referenced feeling "mad depressed and overworked," a poem that reads in part, "i just know / the more i gain / the more lonely it is," and, most of all, the fact that her last post was titled "say hi to forever," has apparently been too much for major news sources to resist. These mostly quote selectively, ignoring the fact that Kim said she felt depressed and overworked in Seoul and was happy to be leaving for Paris, that Kim titled virtually all of her posts with "say hi to..." and that the post in question was just a YouTube clip of one of her favorite house DJ's tracks, and that in her poem, the lines about feeling lonely were followed directly by lines about falling in love. "but when people grow together," wrote Kim, "its something that is not easy but is nice / and that is something."

It's probably a good thing Kim died in Paris, not in New York, or else we'd have to contend with Geraldo Rivera's opinions of her verse, and television cameras filming the removal of her body, as we were treated to last year, when 20-year-old Kazakh model Ruslana Korshunova jumped to her death in the financial district.

It's understandable that reporters would look to a blog for insight into its author's mind when the author is no longer available for questioning, but it should be done in such a way that the excerpts accurately reflect the whole. Kim often wrote about being busy, yes, and sometimes seemed lonely — but she also wrote about loving Milan Kundera, Klaus Kinski, and Boy George, joked about how she would make a good wife one day, and posted pictures of her paintings. (She had a solo show in Seoul in 2007.) In one of her earliest posts to I Like To Fork Myself, she wrote mock-seriously about ending her life, and then immediately followed up: "KIDDING. I'm fine. Just tired." The overwhelming impression given in her blog wasn't that of a depressive lost soul crying out for help in post after tragically ignored post: it was of a smart young woman with an interesting life, managing bewildering array of responsibilities with a wickedly dark sense of humor. And some issues with insomnia. Not everything in her life should now be re-evaluated in light of her death. To try and turn it all into a series of "signs" diminishes the person that she was.

While it's natural that her next of kin would want to put a stop to quoting out of context, Kim's words have already been featured in articles published from here to Australia. The "I know I'm like a ghost" quote, the "mad depressed and overworked" quote, they're out there. They will be repeated from article to article, from broadsheet to broadsheet to tabloid to tabloid, until all context is erased. Ending access to Kim's blog, while it may tamp down interest in the short term, in essence only serves to deny interested parties a chance to glimpse the wider context of Kim's life. Or at least to see her life as she wished it to be understood. While of course, in the case of a 20-year-old's death, there are no parties more "interested" than her actual family, blogging was evidently important to Kim — she found time to write sometimes several times daily, even as she traveled to three or four countries in a week — and in my opinion, it would be a shame if the record of her life Kim chose to publish were to go permanently dark after her death.

I Like To Fork Myself [Official Site]
Daul Kim: Model 'Had Become Fed Up With Work' [Telegraph]
Daul Kim, La Jolie Fleur S'est Fanée [Paris Match]
Daul Kim S'est-Elle Vraiment Suicidée? [20Minutes.fr]
Enquête Relancée Après Le Suicide Du Mannequin Daul Kim [Le Parisien]
I Know I'm Like A Ghost: A Cry For Help Before Dying [Sydney Morning Herald]

Earlier: 5 Fashion Model Blogs That Are Actually Interesting

Whatever you're planning to wear to your company Christmas party is nowhere near as good as this. A red suit is clearly what your life has been lacking. Don't like this one?

Try one like this instead.

Or this.

Or perhaps emerald green is more your thing.

It goes on like this for pages and pages and pages! After a while, you start wearing down — believing that, yes, what you need to be wearing is a fancy skirt suit and a hat.

An elegant black ensemble is probably what I'd choose. No word on whether it comes with Jeeves, to help you out of cars.

All-over floral worries me. And I am, admittedly, a magpie maximalist: I like sequins and flowers and rhinestones and doodads. But I fear that wearing something like this would make me look like the new Von Trapp nanny who's gotten into the curtains. Or wallpaper.

Statuesque posture, unshakable confidence: Required; not included.

Sometimes overtly "feminine" fashion — adorned with flower blooms or buds and other veiled vaginal references — can be delicate, demure… almost weak. This, for some reason, reads "strength." …And "vulva-esque."

Did I mention that Ashro has a wig section?

Man, I love that the wigs come in gray. That means that somewhere out there, some sassy grandma is wearing this sassy cut.

Asymmetrical even!

So, here's why I have the Ashro catalog: I once ordered a caftan. To blog from home in. Feels slightly more appropriate than pajamas when the UPS guy shows up.

I can't vouch for the "approrpriate-ness" of the other casual wear Ashro offers, however…

Ashro [Official Site]

Earlier: 19 Crappy & Crazy Christmas Gifts From Sky Mall
Dean & Deluca Thanksgiving: Mouth-Watering, Wallet-Emptying
All previous catalog posts

Harris feels that, lately, there's an unprecedented amount of vitriol directed at moms.

Maybe people were nicer to our moms, maybe people weren't. In one way or another, our culture has always been weird about mothers. Love/hate, Jocasta/Joan Crawford, supermom/"evil" stepmom, you name it. But right now, in some circles, it seems we're leaning toward hate. Yes, even when you control for the anonymous online jerkwad factor. And yes, even — perhaps especially? — as more and more blogs, books, sitcoms and movies, successful or not, explore with unprecedented candor the experience of being a (white, middle-class) mother.

In Harris' view, it's no coincidence that this is all about women.

And it's not only about "parenting," either. No, I am telling you, it's about mothers. (White mothers, generally, and usually urban ones — if in part because they're out and about on sidewalks and subways, not cloistered in carpools and playrooms.) You know them, or at least their epithets: "Stroller moms," the "stroller mafia," the particularly objectionable "stroller Nazis" — and while we're at it, the "helicopter moms" and "sanctimommies."

She adds,

Women — still — are not "supposed" to take up space. Mothers, in particular. We are — still — supposed to remain in the background, doing whatever it is mothers do, smiling. We grow a belly, we need a seat, we say "excuse me, please," we speak up (or, God forbid, blog), and we've crossed the line, said or asked too much, become "entitled."

Okay. I love children. I dote on babies. I plan to have kids at some point. I'm not a child-hating grinch with a vendetta against breeders. And yet, I totally get the mommy rage. And Harris' reaction is disingenuous: It's not about the kids. It's not even about the stroller-blocking. It's about the parents. And as she makes very clear, it's a self-selecting, moneyed, privileged and child-centric group of parents - a tiny percentage of the parents in this country and in the world at large. Much of the baby industry may be geared towards this population, but it's still a very small one. Yes, I said parents. Now, while I'm well able to believe that there's plenty of societal ambivalence coming out here towards women, this is an equal-opportunity resentment. While it's usually moms we see, when one does see an indulgent helicopter dad (and do you ever!) it provokes exactly the same reactions. I could spin you a little yarn about a father, an ill-behaved, angelic flaxen-haired child named after a jazz musician and the artisanal bread booth at the greenmarket, but there's been enough snarking. And the problem with satirizing such a population (and again - it's a specific population, as Harris makes very clear) is that it's beyond parody.

Yes, there's a class element here. But, come on, it's not just a class thing: if this were just a bunch of wealthy parents with nannies and fancy baby clothes, it would be a very different matter. It's the combination of smugness and obliviousness, Berkeley ethics funded by serious money, of campaigning for liberal politicians while complaining about nanny problems. It's people talking knowingly about the obliviousness of the 50s and Betty Draper's terrible parenting and knowing they're superior, while a toddler rolls on the floor under other coffee drinkers' feet (also this weekend). It's not that people just mind the strollers taking up the street; it's then getting mad when you won't move for those strollers. In short, it's the narcissism of single people, but expanded to fit a whole family. As Neal Pollack told the Times, "'I don't think it's a bad thing that people want to continue a semblance of their pre-parenthood lifestyle...Going to rock shows and bars, he added, is "just what their lives were.'" This is really it in a nutshell: the sense some of these parents give is that they'll have it all, on their terms. There will be no concessions made: instead, the world will concede.

Harris brings up Park Slope, the nexus of all New York's fabled mommy-snark. There was a minor fracas in '08 when Union Hall, a bar and music venue in that neighborhood, asked moms not to bring strollers and mobile kids to the bar, because the space was not kid-proof and it was a legal issue. Parents across the blogs were up in arms - so much so that the bar had to take it back. This was, in some eyes, a good answer to Harris's question.

In sum, no one reasonable hates parents. What people don't like is inconsiderate self-absorbed parents who expect the world to be reordered. Of course, what's hard is that defensive, self-righteous and oblivious parents are more than matched by total assholes on the other side of the aisle, who shout their kid-hate from the rooftops. My initial reaction to Harris' piece was, what? We don't dislike moms! And then I read the comments. Here are a few, just from page 1:

"we don't want to hate you, but we will if you deserve it."

"I resent that my choice to be child-free subjects me to condescension and pity, even though I'm not the one taking up the whole aisle at Target with said SUV stroller and screaming, unruly brats named after medieval professions."

"Quite simply I hate your baby."

"Having children these days is something that highly uncreative women do to fill their lives. PERIOD."

"You write vapid, pointless articles about how hard it is to have a kid during the most wide-open, accepting and privileged time and place(s) in history."

"One child per person. Period. The right we all share is to ensure life for everyone not just our own."

Helpful as these comments are, they do serve to underlie the total fruitlessness of this argument. No one is backing down. It's like oil and water coming together, forming a translucent puddle on the internet. Now, in some lights, that oil floating on top of the water is beautiful. But most of us would rather step over it - and help our kids do the same. "I hate moms," sighed my friend Cora the other day. We were pushing her one-year-old in a stroller. And I knew what she meant.

Everybody Hates Mommy [Salon]
Look Who's Getting Rolled Out Of The Bar [New York Times]

In her surreally titled Newsweek article, Julia Baird argues persuasively that cries of "Palinization" obscure both Palin's real limitations and her belittling remarks about other women. Of Palin's outrage over her leg-exposing Newsweek cover, Baird writes,

Palin's pins are not her major problem. Her problem is that the end of her that is supposed to be "really functioning" isn't functioning very well at all. She was a popular and tough governor, is forceful and bold, and has a canny knack for speaking to the disenfranchised. But she has made a stunning number of errors, and her claim to celebrity outshines her claim to authority. She has not proved her ability to run a campaign or a country, and she quit her job as governor of Alaska before her time was up, with a lame excuse about being a lame duck.

She adds,

Palin also does not shy from "Palinizing" other women, notably Katie Couric, whom she calls "The Perky One" and "the lowest-rated news anchor in network television." While she writes that her "blond, pretty" McCain campaign adviser, Nicolle Wallace, possesses charm she thinks some other women in politics lack, she blasts Wallace for leading her to believe that her gaffe-laden interview with Couric was going to be a homey chat between women. It is offensive to assume that someone seeking serious political power should not be asked hard questions or critically scrutinized-that it's OK to think an interview with a serious journalist like Couric would simply be a girly chat between working moms. This is embarrassing for women. And working moms.

Palin's not necessarily the champion of powerful women she claims to be — and despite her claim in Going Rogue that "whatever your gender, race, or religion, if you love this country and will defend our Constitution, then you're an American," she may not be a supporter of all Americans either. LZ Granderson writes on CNN,

I'm a black man with dreadlocks and, judging by the racial makeup of most of the cities Palin has scheduled for her tour, it doesn't seem I'm her target audience.

I'm not suggesting that she should avoid going to places like Noblesville, Indiana, or Washington, Pennsylvania, both with overwhelmingly white populations. It just seems that in going to few diversely populated cities, she's purposefully steering clear of minorities. I mean, what author with a $5 million book deal avoids promoting books in large cities?

Palin's unconventional book tour schedule has been cast as a way to avoid "liberal media" hotbeds, but it's also had the effect of producing audiences that are overwhelmingly white. And these audiences aren't always friendly to those who aren't like them. The Times talked to Chris Schwartz, who camped out to see Palin in Grand Rapids — she makes the somewhat sinister pronouncement that, "My goal is to make [Obama] a half-term president. We need to get enough people in Congress to stop him in his tracks. One term is too long." Her words aren't outright racist, but they reveal a level of hatred for Obama that, in many Palin supporters, has a xenophobic character. One Palin fan interviewed at a recent book signing said Palin wouldn't be able to win in 2012 because Obama was naturalizing too many "illegal aliens" who would vote for him. Another echoed the common refrain that Obama isn't a citizen. A third said, vaguely and chillingly,

We do need to have profiling. I meant the political correctness has got to get out now. I mean, we're Americans, and she sticks up for the American people, not for other people. We're first, other people last.

Granderson doesn't accuse Palin herself of racism — he simply points out how little she did "to address the racist ugliness around her during the campaign." And now that the campaign is over, Palin has done equally little to reach out to people of color, forgetting that it's not just white people who have the working-class values she champions. Granderson writes,

As a Midwesterner with some Southern roots, I actually have a lot in common with Palin. I've hunted with dogs, fished, had a kid in hockey, I go to church on Sundays and, having worked in New York and L.A., I've had my fair share of run-ins with elitist, liberal snobs.

This is why I am so profoundly disappointed with her. Instead of using her popularity and influence to highlight our similarities and move the nation forward, she has allowed some of the nation's most painful wounds to be re-opened to advance her career.

Billy Graham apparently believes that Palin's purpose is "to wake America up" (I prefer to use an alarm clock). But what she seems to be doing instead is stirring up hate. If she's really "tired of the divisions and the special interests that pit us against each other," as she says in her book, she'll speak out against the racist comments of her supporters and quit "Palinizing" other women. If she doesn't do these things, she'll show that she likes divisions just fine as long as they work in her favor.

Palin In Black And White [CNN]
The ‘Palinization' Of Palin [Newsweek]
Enthusiasm For Palin, And Echoes Of 2008 Divide [NYT]
Matters Of Faith, Politics On Table As Palin Visits Graham [Charlotte Observer, via Politico]

Earlier: Borders Line

Variety reports that Princess Tiana-oriented merchandise is outselling other Disney Princess-branded items by double digits. (Disney hasn't had a new princess-like character since Mulan in 1998.)

The LA Times spoke to The Disney animation team of Ron Clements and John Musker — who wrote and directed the The Little Mermaid and Aladdin — about the first animated African-American Disney heroine (who has an interracial relationship!)

Clements explains:

"Disney has actually been interested in the Frog Prince all the way back to Beauty and the Beast. They never got a version they were totally happy with. Weirdly enough, Pixar had been developing versions and they never got quite a version they were happy with. Their version actually started in Chicago and then moved to New Orleans partly because that is John Lasseter's favorite city in the world. Even more recently, Disney bought the rights to a book called The Frog Princess by an author called E.D. Baker and that was a twist on the fairy tale… We took elements actually from everything and came up with our version, which is basically an American fairy tale set in New Orleans in the 1920s."

The Princess and The Frog is family-friendly fare, but considering the fact that Precious broke records for an indie flick (and continues to see strong numbers as it goes nationwide) and New Moon broke a box office record set by The Dark Knight, Hollywood should be learning that women are not to be ignored.

"New Moon explodes the myth… that fanboys hold all the power," Pamela McClintock writes for Variety. Last year seemed to be the year of the dick flick, but with major successes from Julie & Julia, New Moon and Precious (keep in mind that New Moon's opening weekend beat Transformers, X-Men Origins: WolverineTransformers and Star Trek), the message is clear: Women buy movie tickets, and we're interested in great stories with women in the lead roles. And! Fangirls should be taken seriously. As Women & Hollywood's Melissa Silverstein writes for The Huffington Post:

Women accounted for 80% of the New Moonticket buyers; and [the audience was] divided evenly between women under and over 21. …There is an audience out there hungry to see films that appeal to them. I'm not trying to say that all women's films will be as successful as New Moon because that's silly. These kinds of movies come along rarely cause Hollywood hardly makes them. But this weekend's number indicate that they should make more of them.

'New Moon' Shines At Box Office, New 'Princess' Lifts Disney [Variety]
New Moon Brings a New Dawn in Hollywood [The Huffington Post]
Q & A With 'Princess And The Frog' Animators [LA Times]
Anika Noni Rose In Disney's 'The Princess and the Frog'; 'Dreamgirl's' Latest Role Is History Making [NY Daily News]
A Frog Of A Different Color [Newsweek]

Butler, feminist philosopher and author of Gender Trouble: Feminism and the Subversion of Identity writes persuasively about the flaws in the IAAF's gender-testing system:

[I]f we consider that this act of ‘sex determination' was supposed to be collaboratively arrived at by a panel that included ‘a gynecologist, an endocrinologist, a psychologist and an expert on gender' (why wasn't I called!?), then the assumption is that cultural and psychological factors are part of sex-determination, and that no one of these ‘experts' could come up with a definitive finding on his or her own (presuming that binary gender holds). This co-operative venture suggests as well that sex-determination is decided by consensus and, conversely, where there is no consensus, there is no determination of sex. Is this not a presumption that sex is a social negotiation of some kind? And are we, in fact, witnessing in this case a massive effort to socially negotiate the sex of Semenya, with the media included as a party to the deliberations?

Media outlets have generally used the phrase "gender testing" to describe the ordeal the IAAF put Semenya through, but many have pointed out an inaccuracy in the terminology — if sex is biological, and gender is socially constructed, then what was really at issue was Semenya's sex. However, as Butler explains, the testing appeared to be an effort to socially construct the runner's biological sex via the opinions of a panel of "experts." The bizarreness of this approach shows how poorly understood sex still is. And the sheer number of experts the IAAF relied on (maybe they should've called Butler) speaks to the fact that the group really hasn't arrived at a single standard of what makes someone "female enough" to compete. Butler says they should simply decouple the question of femaleness from that of eligibility. She writes,

[W]e can invoke certain standards for admission to compete under a particular gender category without deciding whether or not the person unequivocally ‘is' that category. If the standard turns out to be, for instance, hormone levels, and it is decided that one cannot exceed certain levels of testosterone to play in women's sports, then a competitor could still be a ‘woman' in a cultural and social sense and, indeed, in some biological senses as well, but she would not qualify to compete under those standards. [...] standards for qualification do not have to be the same as final decisions about sex, and these can certainly be distinct from larger and overlapping questions of gender.

If only the IAAF had adopted such a sensible approach — focusing only on whether Semenya could run and not on "what" she "was" — perhaps the media wouldn't have felt so free to define Semenya's sex for her. But few involved in the case have been sensible. Ariel Levy, writing in The New Yorker, quotes bioethicist Alice Domurat Dreger, who describes the IAAF's approach to sex testing as "a kind of ‘I know it when I see it' policy." And she talks to Athletics South Africa president Leonard Chuene, who not only lied about authorizing sex tests for Semenya, but allowed her to compete in Berlin against others' advice, even though he knew the test results were "not good" and scandal was likely. Chuene sounds fantastically self-absorbed when he tells Levy,

If I will do this, it's ‘Why did you withdraw her?' If I did not, ‘Why did you allow her to run?' Whatever way you look at it, I'm judged. I'm judged!

He adds,

This thing has given her more opportunity! Everybody knows her. The world is out there to say, ‘Your problems are our problems.' Imagine if I had not let her win!

Chuene's words about "opportunity" are pretty insensitive, especially given that Semenya has indicated she's uncomfortable with her notoriety. Still, her story has inspired more public discussion of intersex conditions, and it might encourage some people to examine their preconceptions about sex and gender. Levy includes in her piece an interesting discussion of various movements within the intersex community. Some object to queer and/or transgender people aligning themselves with those born intersex, while others go even further, preferring to describe themselves as having "disorders of sex development." Levy writes that "they want disorders of sex development to be treated like any other physical abnormality: something for doctors to monitor but not to operate on, unless the patient is in physical discomfort or danger." Whether intersex conditions are indeed "disorders" or simply points on a non-binary gender spectrum is an interesting question, and Semenya's ordeal may have done some good if it brings this issue into the open.

But what has it done to Semenya herself? Former ASA official Wilfred Daniels says, "now her life is over," and many others have had similarly dark predictions for her future. However, at the conclusion of her piece, Levy talks to Semenya herself:

I asked her if she would talk to me, not about the tests or Chuene but about her evolution as an athlete, her progression from Limpopo to the world stage. She shook her head vigorously. "No," she said. "I can't talk to you. I can't talk to anyone. I can't say to anyone how I feel or what's in my mind."

I said I thought that must suck.

"No," she said, very firmly. Her voice was strong and low. "That doesn't suck. It sucks when I was running and they were writing those things. That sucked. That is when it sucks. Now I just have to walk away. That's all I can do." She smiled a small, bemused smile. "Walk away from all of this, maybe forever. Now I just walk away." Then she took a few steps backward, turned around, and did.

Despite all she's been through, Semenya appears to have more dignity than any of those who have tried to test her or speak for her. Her running career may be over, but her life is not.

Wise Distinctions [London Review Blog]
Either/Or [The New Yorker]

The biggest misstep of the night was obviously Jennifer Lopez falling on her butt during her performance of her new song "Louboutins." Ironically, she wasn't in her Louboutins when she fell. (She changed into them later.)

Janet opened the evening with a medley of her greatest hits, and she did the "If" dance!

Then Paula Abdul came out to welcome everyone to the awards. But her mic wasn't on. Poor Paula. (She still sounds drunk to me.)

Rihanna's performance was kind of boring, although her costume did have lasers on it.

But Lady GaGa upstaged her and everyone else.

Still, the Queen of Hip-Hop Soul can't be outdone when it comes to facial expressions.

Whitney won International Artist of the Year, and she brought the house down.

She made Reba cry.

Bobbi Kris was proud.

I'm glad we have Whitney back to her old sweaty self.

Earlier: Oprah's Favorite Things 2007: The Audience Freaks Out!

1.) Martha Stewart Vs. Rachael Ray
Last night on Nightline, Cynthia McFadden tried to stir up shit between the two women.

2.) Martha Stewart Vs. Sarah Palin
But on the red carpet this week, Martha didn't need any encouragement to talk shit on Sarah.

3.) Piper Palin Child Beauty Queen
Earlier this week, I joked that Piper Palin was wearing so much makeup for Sarah's interview with Barbara Walters that she practically looked high glitz.

Later that day, Oprah's camera crew went to Wasilla to film the Palin family at home, where Piper was wearing a crown and a sash.

4.) Mother/daughter bonding

5.) The D.E.N.N.I.S. System
It's funny 'cause it's true.

6.) Crap letter from a dude
As featured on True Life: I Can't Leave My Boyfriend. The guy later came back to her apartment when she wasn't home, and stole all of her electronics and her dog.

7.) America's Next Top Amityville Horror
ANTM aired some never-before-seen moments, and I'd rather that this one had stayed unseen.

8.) Drunk idiots
The people on the Real World/Road Rules Challenge get so stupid drunk that they always end up fighting, and subsequently kicked off the show (whichseems to be their sole source of income). Brad started in with Darrell for no reason.

And then Darrell turned Brad into Quasimodo.

9.) Sewing with Nancy
Her awkwardness makes me uncomfortable.

10.) Stomache

On Sunday, the Chronicle of Higher Education published a piece exploring the struggles of colleges trying to measure the effectiveness of programs designed to reduce rape and sexual assault. These programs have shifted the focus from women to men - and have stepped up the idea that men can assist in preventing third party assaults.

The Department of Justice's Office on Violence Against Women gives grants to colleges to develop or strengthen various resources, including policies related to prevention, victim counseling, and training for administrators and the campus police in identifying and responding to sexual assaults.

Some colleges try to reach all their incoming freshmen during orientation, or work the training into their curricula, while others aim to reach a few hundred students a year. On some campuses, well-financed women's centers funnel thousands of dollars into the effort, while other colleges have found ways to educate a good chunk of students without a real budget, relying on student volunteers and fund raising.

The challenge for colleges is that even the best prevention strategies lack guarantees. "There is no magic bullet," says Paul Schewe, a psychologist at the University of Illinois at Chicago and director of the Interdisciplinary Center for Research on Violence. The field is relatively new to academe, and not all experts agree on the best approaches.

John D. Foubert, one of the pioneering instructors, believes that one of the ways to stop sexual assault would be to focus on getting men to envision what it would be like if they were raped:

The program, which Mr. Foubert created in the late 1990s, consists of an hourlong workshop on sexual assault. The cornerstone of the program is a video that dramatizes the rape of the male police officer, which is both graphic and disturbing. And according to his research, Mr. Foubert says, the video increases men's aversion to rape while casting them not as potential abusers but as "potential helpers" who can help prevent assaults.

On its Web site, Mr. Foubert's organization highlights statistics from studies he has conducted on the program's effectiveness. It says that not only does the program improve men's understanding of how to help a woman recover from rape, but it also lowers "the likelihood of raping for an entire academic year-longer than any other program evaluated in the research literature." Furthermore, Mr. Foubert concluded that 75 percent of "high risk" men who attend his program report lower likelihood of raping after the program concludes.

This sends up some red flags. One, who determines who is high risk? Anyone is capable of sexually assaulting someone else, and while it may help deter men in social settings where a lot of peers are egging on forcible contact, it doesn't really stop one-on-one occasions like acquiescence rape. Secondly, are these statistics based on self-reporting? As we've seen before, many people will dance rings around the word "rape" without realizing that their behavior falls squarely within the definitions.

The more commonly known strategy aimed at women is a "risk reduction" tactic - where programs explain to women what they can do to try to mitigate the risk of an assault:

While some rape-prevention strategies were created specifically for men, others were designed to empower women. The latter include "risk reduction" programs that have been shown to decrease the likelihood of being assaulted. Such programs teach women, for example, to keep an eye on their drink to prevent someone from drugging it; to attend parties in groups; and to set boundaries in sexual situations. Self-defense training can be another component.

But the majority of programs are for both genders, according to a recent review written by a panel of sexual-assault-prevention experts, including Mr. Berkowitz and Mr. Schewe. Most rely on a lecture format, but many use videos, interactive skits, role-playing, and rape survivor stories. And according to Rape Prevention and Risk Reduction: Review of the Research Literature for Practitioners, mixed-gender programs have been shown to produce positive changes in attitudes about rape, although they have generally not been successful over the long term.

Several companies have gotten into the game, too. Colleges can book a performance of Sex Signals, a two-person play designed to educate students using a mix of improvisational comedy and audience participation. NFormed.on.sexual.assault, which bills itself as a "not for too much profit" company, offers online video training to colleges at a cost of up to $6.95 per student.

Although it's important to applaud educators for taking a closer look at rape prevention, it's possible the dwindling and hard to measure returns will continue as long as they solely focus on risk management, to the detriment of everything else. One of the reasons I enjoyed the Yes Means Yes! anthology and blog (full disclosure: I'm one of the contributors) is this idea of enthusiastic consent. So often, questions of consent hinge upon hearing "no" as in "she never said no" or "I didn't hear her say stop." Yes Means Yes reframes that idea, positioning that the absence of no should not be taken as consent, and that only a full, enthusiastic yes leads to a positive sexual experience for both partners.

In addition, there are a number of amazing documentary films examining the larger role of cultural influences that often go unchallenged. Dreamworlds 3 is one of these resources, where the images of women in society are critically examined. While some men may gain valuable insight by trying to place themselves in the shoes of someone who has been raped, another effective tactic may be to show how dominant and unquestioned are certain ideas about sexuality. The segment in Dreamworlds on masculinity and control is a major eye-opener:

In addition, Byron Hurt's Beyond Beats and Rhymes provides a hip-hop focus that still provides men and women with a shocking glimpse of what types of behavior become normalized.

At 6:37, the statistics begin flashing on screen: One in four black women are raped after age eighteen, that black women are 35% more likely to be physically assaulted than white women, and that more than 700,000 women are assaulted each year, with 61% of those victims being under 18.

The following segment, "Sisters and Bitches," provides an illustrated view of the problems with rationalizing away behavior. As the scenes Hurt films become more sexually aggressive and more violent toward women, he eventually approaches as police officer, who more or less shrugs it off as regrettable but not preventable:

In order to change the way sexual aggression is viewed in the culture, people must make sure that they examine and challenge assumptions. Which brings me to this problematic passage in the Chronicle of Higher Education report:

The majority of rapists, almost all of whom are male, are never reported or prosecuted, according to David Lisak, a clinical psychologist at the University of Massachusetts at Boston who has spent more than two decades studying rapists. These "undetected rapists," as he called them in a 2002 paper, hold rigid beliefs about gender roles and objectify women. They are usually hypermasculine, equating aggression, sexual prowess, and violence with their own adequacy. They tend to use alcohol deliberately to make their victims more vulnerable to attack.

While I agree that the majority of rapists are never reported or prosecuted (thanks social stigmas!) I disagree with creating a profile of someone who could commit a sexual assault or rape. For one thing, putting characteristics like hypermasculinity into the mix could become confusing. How then, does one deal with the manipulative dynamics of Nice Guys, or the murky consent dynamics of the open-source boob project?

In addition, a focus on the outcome (dealing with or preventing rape and sexual assault) can also lead to ignoring the causes and effects leading up to these types of assaults. At Racialicious, we recently published a piece from Fiqah who talked about her problems dealing with sexual advances from a uniformed police officer that lives in her neighborhood. She wrote:

"Where you headed?" he asked, looking down at me as my eyes landed everywhere else: his shoes, a lamppost, a trashcan, a little boy barrelling down the sidewalk on his scooter. As we stopped at a crosswalk, he moved a full step closer to me so that we were separated by no more than a few inches. I swung the shopping bag hanging from my hand between us, casually, so as to appear non-deliberate. My flitting eyes landed on the gun at his hip. I quickly looked away.

"Oh, not far," I'd said, calmly, making small talk as my mind screamed angry accusations and panicked instructions. Don't let him walk you to your building! Stall him! It's your fault for wearing a V-neck shirt without a minimizer! Tell him you have run to the bodega across the street and pick up something you forgot! Tell him your boyfriend's waiting for you! You must always remember to wear your wedding ring when you go out or this will happen! This is your fault! Your fault! Don't tell him your real name! Don't tell him anything! Keep talking! This is your fault!

"OH!" I said, feigning dismay. "I forgot something! I gotta run into one of these bodegas and grab it."

"No problem, I'll walk you there," he'd said. My stomach turned over.

"Thank you so much, that's really nice, but I got it."

"You sure?" he'd asked, handing me my bags.

"Oh, yeah, it's not a problem. I mean, a little weight-lifting won't hurt!" I added. He laughed, and gave me one last nauseating up-and-down.

"Don't get too much exercise, now," he'd drawled.

I had swallowed my rising bile and forced a smile, thanking him for his help, and hastily crossed the street.

As is par for the course with any blog posts on rape, street harassment, and sexual harassment, comments started creeping in asking what the cop did wrong, why the writer would feel threatened if a man was just saying hello, and asking what men are supposed to do if women dress in a way to attract attention. One commenter even went so far as to suggest Fiqah would have been fine with this harassment if she thought the police officer was attractive.

These types of ingrained ideas need to be explored. There is no reason why men should have so many problems distinguishing between flirting and sexual aggression, or why reflexive reactions like "well why are you wearing that?" should go unchallenged.

Luckily, on campuses, administrators are open to changing tactics. As Dorothy Edwards, creator of the Green Dot program, says at the end of the Chronicle article:

Ms. Edwards, of Kentucky, echoes some of her peers when she says it doesn't matter to her which strategy comes out on top, as long as the goals are met. "I couldn't care less about Green Dot," she says. "I want to end rape."

Rape-Prevention Programs Proliferate, but 'It's Hard to Know' Whether They Work [The Chronicle]
Official Site [Yes Means Yes Blog]
Yes Means Yes: Visions of Female Sexual Power and A World Without Rape [Amazon]
Dreamworlds 3 (Unabridged) [Media Education Foundation]
Hip-Hop: Beyond Beats and Rhymes [PBS Independent Lens]
Nice Guy (TM) at XKCD [Restructure]
Open Source Boob Project [Feminist SF Wiki]
Unreported [Racialicious]

Earlier: Rapists Admit Repeated Crimes - As Long As You Don't Call It "Rape"

Kenneth Clark's famous study was dispiriting: almost every child preferred the white doll. In
2006, filmmaker Kiri Davis re-created the experiment, and 15 of her 21 young subjects chose the Caucasian baby doll. While, as we all know, children "have to be carefully taught," this is clearly ingrained early - and dies hard. On the View yesterday, Elisabeth Hasselbeck remarked on the looks her daughter got when she carried a Tiana doll from The Princess and the Frog on the street (although I personally might have been looking at the celebrity, but that's just me. And she says she was wearing a hat.)

Yet, what makes the whole thing even more depressing is that on the surface, there have never been so many doll "choices": a piece in today's Wall Street Journal points to the trend in doll-girl matching and, amongst toy companies, "an intensifying concern with matching the characteristics of the figurine with those of its owner."

There are, of course, several different issues at play here. On the one hand, we've got standards of beauty - kids need to see more varietals than Barbie, and know that all kinds of appearance and coloring are equally valid - that one is not always the heroine while the others are the chorus, the satellite, the token friend. In a word, we need diversity of dolls to become commonplace, taken for granted.

And then there are the different forms of play: some children like to "parent" their dolls; just yesterday I saw a little girl assiduously mothering her baby doll while her mother tended to a real-life infant sibling. In these cases, you don't need a shrink to tell you that the play is helpful for transitioning, for working out issues, and for learning positive behaviors. And you don't need to be a sociologist to know that for a little kid, your baby most often looks like you. (Although Brangelina may be putting paid to this notion for any child whose mother has a Star subscription.)

Of course, for most kids, it's not about that particularly. Like Hasselbeck's daughter, most young children just want dolls as friends or characters. As the Journal put it,

More commonly, children have enjoyed dolls not for narcissistic satisfaction but for their imaginative potential as hand-held adventurers that can be moved about and made to talk or fly. A corncob doll works as well for those purposes as a custom-made mini-me.

Which is what makes the whole "model-of-myself" trend kind of strange. There is a difference between wanting to see a wide spectrum of dolls, to know that you're represented as a valid human being, to own a toy you identify with (hopefully unthinkingly) and needing your doll to be a replica of you, the child. One is all about imagination; the other is about the opposite.

For children who wish to see their own faces reflected back at them, the toy industry has never before strained so assiduously to please. American Girl, the Mattel-owned company that sells 18-inch dolls with realistic hair and moveable limbs (including a line of historical dolls), offers an array of mannequins that can be configured with Godlike genetic specificity: For $95 to $109, parents can purchase a playmate that mirrors their daughter's hair (blond, red, auburn, caramel, brown, dark brown, brown-black or black-brown), eyes (blue, hazel, green or brown), skin (light, medium or dark), and even attributes such as freckles, bangs, curls and pierced ears.

While they may be contemporaneous phenomena, companies producing a wide range of ethnicities and features, being able to find a doll with glasses or one with a wheelchair, seems to me a very different thing from the mini-idols that every company from Madame Alexander to Bratz is now producing. I feel like the two get conflated, but they're different. I remarked on this phenomenon when Strawberry Shortcake got her infamous makeover: why, I wondered then, do toy companies think a child can't relate to a doll who isn't exactly like herself? I speak purely as a passionate doll-lover, but it seems to me a real lack of understanding of the toy's appeal. Would I have wanted such a thing? Well, for one thing, I never saw a sallow Blythe doll with matted hair (the only approximation that would have come close), but I don't think so. Sure, it would be fun to see yourself mirrored on Christmas morning, and I imagine there's a satisfaction to acquiring each accessory, making the doll's hobbies and wardrobe mirror one's own, but doesn't that get old, fast? That's not a doll that looks like you in the general sense; it's a model of you.

Do Our Dolls Have To Look Like Us? [Wall Street Journal]
Kiri Davis: A Girl Like Me [YouTube]

Why was I even there? I think the books are dumb, and I hated the first film. Well, first of all, I felt like it was my duty, since I did it last year. Second of all, as an amateur anthropologist, dilettante and pop culture junkie, I feel required to keep up with the zeitgeist. Plus, maybe the new director (Chris Weitz) would improve the feel of the film? Last but not least, two words: Buff Werewolf.

So there I was, scooting through the rain in downtown Manhattan to a theater where the line went out of the lobby and wrapped around itself into a weird storage area where ladders were lying on the floor.

As my friend Workhorse and I settled into the line, the young lady in front of us assessed the wait and proclaimed, "I should have brought my computer, I could have done my homework."

"We're the oldest ones here," Workhorse whispered to me. It was mostly true: teens and twenty-somethings lined the walls of the waiting room. Workhorse and I are firmly entrenched in our 30s. When we did see one older guy, he had a young girl with braces with him. Daughter? Niece? Neither of us had that excuse.

"This movie is romantic," I warned Workhorse. "Are you going to cry?"
"I might cover my eyes if it's scary," he replied.
I frowned: "You didn't cover your eyes in the first one."
"I was too busy rolling them."

When we got to our seats I heard the 19-ish girl next to me say to her friend, "I can't believe you haven't read the books!"

I have read the books. Well, the first one, the second one, and half of the third one. I found them hypnotic, yet frustrating: The writing wasn't great and the story dragged; yet I was always curious to know: What happens next?

And such is New Moon. The filmmakers claimed they wanted to keep the movie close to the books, and they did: It is SO SLOW. The story drags. The drama in the first few minutes — when Bella gets a paper cut in front of a pack of vamps — is only mildly interesting; there's something off in the way she holds up her bloody finger and announces she's been cut — it's just so obvious, lacking in finesse or subtlety. Also: When you get a paper cut, don't you just automatically put you finger in your mouth? Jeez.

Anyway, next, Edward the Sparkle Vamp promptly breaks up with Bella (the girl next to me cried a little.) And then, for a long time, nothing happens. Bella mopes, has nightmares, goes through the motions. In the film, there's a montage to indicate that October, November and December pass while she is catatonic from misery, and it felt almost like her mourning process was happening in real time. IT WAS TEDIOUS. Plus, every time she interacted with the long-haired, fully clothed Buff Werewolf, all I could think was, "CUT YOUR HAIR AND TAKE YOUR SHIRT OFF AND GET THIS MOVIE STARTED." More naked werewolves, less of the morose girl.

Through the film, Bella is narrating in a voiceover, but the conceit is that she is writing to her vampire friend Alice. Every scene without dialog begins, "Alice." and then "I am blah blah blah." If you play a drinking game when you go see this movie, drink every time she says "Alice" and you'll be wasted an hour in.

Time went by. The movie started at 12:20 and Bella didn't piece together that the werewolf is a werewolf until almost 2am. Her relationship with Jacob the Buff Werewolf is actually really sweet, and he seems like a better choice for her than brooding Edward, but that's just me. (Team Jacob?) The biggest problem is that Bella is a crappy heroine. She doesn't enunciate, she's incredibly passive, and I'm pretty sure she's codependent.

There were a few moments when the Buff Werewolf's dilemma — going through something and not being able to tell anyone — seemed like a metaphor for coming out of the closet, but that was probably just me trying to make things more interesting.

I laughed when Bella took VIRGIN airways to Italy; and the visuals of her running through the Little Red Riding Hood convention were actually really beautiful. And between Bella's friends and father, there are quite a few laughs. Unfortunately, the jokes are sideshows to a sluggish, depressing tale. The movie is bad. It's too long and too boring. Bella lacks the kind of spunky, triumphant joie de vivre I admired so much in Buffy. I know I'm not the target audience for New Moon — but as a woman who loves to get swept up in fantasy, drama, romance, vampires and werewolves, I was really and truly open minded; willing to give it a chance. Alas: For a flick with a lot of fangs, it didn't have much bite.

I did enjoy this:

And this:



But that's about it, so save your twelve bucks.

Earlier: Twilight At Midnight: Smells Like Teen Spirit

I felt bad for her, I really did. But the thrill is gone! You done me wrong, PR. And it's not me: It's you.

Anyway: Here's what happened last night. Carol Hannah cried. She was comforted by the Aryan arms of Logan.

Carol Hannah cried some more, and was comforted by Christopher.

Later Carol Hannah bucked up and put on some mascara.

Tim Gunn had a mothertrucking meltdown. Don't make Snagglepuss angry! Or he will exit! Stage left!

Here's Althea's show. She said that she was inspired by sci-fi movies of the '50s and '60s.

I thought her show was more '80s.

Or '90s.

Carol Hannah's show was basically just stuff she wanted to wear. Here are the notes I took last night:
yawn
baggy satin
preggo top
bottle brush dress
cleopatra sea anemone

Irina was inspired by New York, and the armor a woman needs to protect herself in this city. Although I found her distasteful as a "character" on the show, her collection had some really nice coats and was more cohesive than the other two. Still, was it as good as collections by Kenley, Leanimal or Christian Siriano?

In the end, judges Heidi Klum, Michael Kors, Nina Garcia and Suzy Menkes agreed that Carol Hannah's collection had "impeccable tailoring" but was not cohesive and had too many ideas. The panel thought that Althea's collection was "plugged in to the street" and that she "knows what's cool," but Irina's "edgy" "armor" made her the winner. I was watching with a friend who declared, "this is terrible television." I sighed and agreed, but felt the need to point out: It didn't used to be like this!
So long, farewell, auf Wiedersehen. Adieu.

(Except the show returns in January!)

As Christo and Jeanne-Claude put it in an interview with the Journal of Contemporary Art:

Gianfranco Mantegna: Of your many projects the Reichstag wrapping is the one that took the most time to be realized: nearly 23 years, right? Did you ever think that it would not happen? Why the Reichstag? And what inspired you?

Christo: First of all, you should understand that this is not only my project, it's also Jeanne-Claude's, all I do myself are the drawings . . .

Jeanne-Claude: The only things I do myself is write the checks, pay the bills and pay the taxes. Everything else is Christo and Jeanne-Claude, including the creativity. It's about time that people correct this mistake.

So. Conceptually, logistically, and creatively, Christo and Jeanne-Claude were more or less indivisible. We probably shouldn't think this kind of radically egalitarian relationship terribly unusual, in this day and age, when feminism's various well-advertised social and legislative victories have supposedly left us all more equal in life and in relationships than ever before. But isn't it wonderful to be reminded that a couple where both members were born (coincidentally, on the same day) in 1935 could see no better way of working together, than to work together?

Especially in the world of visual art, where women involved with great artists have traditionally been consigned to the role of "muse." Art hinges on the idea of a single creator, and his or her (but usually his) creative vision: that's why Guernica is art, and those scenic paintings done painstakingly by hand in workshops in China are not. Art historians argue for years over whether a work should be classified as by, for instance, El Greco, or if it was merely done by one of his trainees, because art affirms that the intentions and identity of a work's creator matters. Even in a collaboration, a partnership, as apparently straightforward as that of Christo's and Jeanne-Claude, the temptation is always to ask: but who really thought of that? (And then there is the further temptation to assume that it must have been Christo.) His refusal to play along — look at how he corrected that interviewer — is admirable.

Although before the Reichstag project, in 1994, all of their works had been presented under only Christo's name, the couple always maintained that the aesthetic burden was shared throughout their lives. (In fact, in 1968, Christo and Jeanne-Claude separately oversaw two simultaneous wrapping projects in different parts of Europe.) Although Christo had been wrapping small objects, like chairs and bottles, in fabric before he met Jeanne-Claude, he had never before attempted a project on the scale of a building before. From that point on, there's basically no point asking whose idea was which, although Jeanne-Claude has been credited with thinking of swaddling the islands of Biscayne Bay in pink fabric, which became the Surrounded Islands work of 1983.

Together, they fought bureaucracy. (The Gates succeeded after 22 years of official opposition to the idea of erecting 7,500 16 ft. tall gates swathed in orange nylon in Central Park; permission to wrap the Reichstag in Berlin wasn't granted for 24 years.) Jeanne-Claude told the New Yorker in 2004, "Probably the most difficult one for us, the one we would not want to go through ever again, was the Pont Neuf." That project, realized in 1985, took a decade of wrangling. "Our permit to wrap Pont Neuf depended on two men who never agreed on anything. One was the President of France, François Mitterrand, and the other was the mayor of Paris, Jacques Chirac, who wanted to become president, and later did. There was an election coming up in 1986, and they were playing Ping-Pong with us, and we were the balls." Together, they financed the cost of all of their great environmental art projects themselves — no mean feat, given that The Gates cost an estimated $20 million. (The couple's usual method was to sell Christo's sketches to raise the necessary capital. They have apparently always felt that accepting grants or sponsorship would corrupt their working process.)

That fund-raising process was well underway for "Over The River," Christo and Jeanne-Claude's next project, which had been more than a decade in the planning stages when Jeanne-Claude's death, from a brain aneurysm, was announced this morning. Christo says he will continue without her. The idea is for nearly 6-mile long fabric panels to stretch across the top of the Arkansas River gorge in Colorado. Recreational boaters and other users of the river will be able to look up and see the sky through the panels, but from above, the river will look — for two weeks — silvery, flat and opaque. The earliest this might happen, the artists have said, is the summer of 2011.

So these two, who functioned as one, are now only one. Their long companionate marriage is over. I certainly hope that Over The River, when it is erected, can stand as a tribute to the two of them and all they shared.

Christo And Jeanne-Claude [Journal of Contemporary Art]
Lishui, China's Ancient Weir Art Village [New Yorker]
Over The River [Christo and Jeanne-Claude]
Gates To The City [New Yorker]

The report made waves by advising against home screening for breast cancer and against annual mammograms:

The task force, a federal advisory board, said this week that women should not begin routine mammograms until age 50, contradicting the well-established advice that women 40 and older should be screened.

Groups such as the American Cancer Society and Susan G. Komen for the Cure have opposed the new guidance.

The backlash was swift and merciless, forcing Health and Human Services Secretary Kathleen Sebelius to issue a statement saying that the recommendations of the task force are not guaranteeing a change in government policy:

In a written statement, Sebelius said the guidelines had "caused a great deal of confusion and worry among women and their families across this country" and stressed that they were issued by "an outside independent panel of doctors and scientists who . . . do not set federal policy and . . . don't determine what services are covered by the federal government." [...]

The task force on Monday recommended that women in their 40s stop having routine mammograms and instead individually discuss whether to get the exams with their doctors.

The panel also recommended that women in their 50s get mammograms routinely every two years, instead of annually. The panel argued that the benefits of more frequent exams were outweighed by the harms caused by false alarms, which can lead to anxiety and unneeded treatment.

While hailed by many patient advocates and breast cancer experts, the new guidelines have been harshly criticized by the American Cancer Society, the American College of Radiology and others, including some members of Congress.

Two of the women over at Time's Swampland blog are up in arms, noting that the recommendation seems more like a cost-saving measure rather than anything that will benefit women. Kate Pickert points out the numbers:

The panel also said a review of clinical data showed that yearly mammograms for women 40-49 reduced the risk of breast cancer death by 15%, but under a section titled "Balance of Harms and Benefits," said this:

• Harms of screening include psychological harms, additional medical visits, imaging, and biopsies in women without cancer, inconvenience due to false-positive screening results, harms of unnecessary treatment, and radiation exposure. Harms seem moderate for each age group.

  False-positive results are a greater concern for younger women; treatment of cancer that would not become clinically apparent during a woman's life (overdiagnosis) is an increasing problem as women age.

These new guidelines - which while influential, are not binding - have caused no small amount of consternation. Women are incensed that some faraway task force has decided a 15% risk reduction – i.e. actual lives saved – is not enough to warrant mass screenings. I asked a number of female colleagues here at TIME what they thought of the new guidelines and all said they found the new recommendations to be disturbing. One even said the news set off "a giant pink bell ringing in my head."

After pointing out how Congresswoman Debbie Wasserman-Schultz, a breast cancer survivor, freaked out at the proposal, Pickert concludes:

For instance, a small number of women get diagnosed with breast cancer in their 20s and 30s. Does this mean mammograms should be routine during these years too? At what point do lives saved outweigh "psychological harms, additional medical visits, imaging, and biopsies in women without cancer, inconvenience due to false-positive screening results, harms of unnecessary treatment, and radiation exposure." Will private insurance companies, which pay close attention to guidelines from the U.S. Preventive Task Force and other groups, stop covering mammograms for women under 50? Wouldn't insurers rather catch cancers early when they are easy (and cheap) to treat? And what about the oft-touted U.S. breast cancer five-year survival rate, which is 83.9%, compared to England, where it's 69.7%?

Time's Karen Tumulty doesn't pull any punches - she thinks the task force is composed of "pinheads:"

[A]t age 19, when I discovered lumps in both my breasts that didn't go away after a couple of menstrual cycles.

That's when I had my first mammogram. Back in those days, the technology wasn't what it is today, and it was inconclusive. My doctor decided he wanted to do a biopsy. That wasn't what it is today, either. A simple breast biopsy in 1975 required me to check in for an overnight stay in a hospital, and to sign forms before the surgery authorizing a mastectomy on the spot if it turned out to be cancer. I remember vividly waking up from the general anesthesia terrified, feeling the heavy layers of bandages trying to figure out what they had done. It was benign—thank God—but it turned out to be the first of several times I would go through this drill, because I have lumpy breasts. The fancy name for that is fibrocystic disease.

At the time of my first breast biopsy, I had no family history of the disease. I subsequently developed one. Over the years, my mom was diagnosed with breast cancer (and survived it); my aunt was too (and didn't). I've had a number of scares, but none, thus far, has turned out to be cancer.

So it would seem I'm the perfect example of a person who shouldn't have had mammograms, or even examined my own breasts. But am I sorry I've had the information I've had through mammograms and self-exams? Not for a second.

That's why I think these scientists are pinheads. Pink ribbons are lovely, but women who want information should have it. And I would remind Swampland readers of the important lesson we all learned from Carly Fiorina. Information is power, ladies, and don't let some scientific panel tell you it isn't.

But the NY Times' Gail Collins begs to differ:

Somewhere between the reports that Pap smears and tests for prostate cancer aren't all they were cracked up to be and the news that a high fiber diet doesn't do anything to prevent cancer, the health establishment began looking decidedly nonomniscient. Then this week, a federal task force reported that most women don't need annual mammograms.

Even more fascinating, they suggested that doctors stop telling their female patients to self-examine their breasts for lumps. [...]

The report triggered two immediate and inevitable responses. Doctors and patients began an animated discussion. And Republicans declared it was all a Democratic plot.

"I mean, let the rationing begin. This is what happens when bureaucrats make your health care decisions," said Representative David Camp, the ranking Republican on the House Ways and Means Committee.

Representative Camp is definitely on to something. Whatever happens, we do not want the government conducting any studies on whether current health practices actually do any good. Let this continue and soon you will not be able to get your hands on a good leech when you need one.

There is no possible political advantage in coming out against medical testing, so the Obama administration scurried away from the report. The task force did not consider the matter of cost, but, of course, people like Representative Camp depicted it as the first step toward rationing. The current position of the Republican Party seems to be that it is not possible to spend too much money on medicine. Party on.

(Has anybody noticed that the people who darkly warn about government bureaucrats forcing insurance companies to cut back our coverage appear to be the same ones who just voted to force insurance companies to stop covering abortions? Where's the sanctity of the marketplace when we really need it?)

Collins, also a breast cancer survivor, is remarkably glib about the whole business, explaining:

I had mammograms every year like clockwork, and I had just gotten a clean bill of health from my latest one when I found a lump on my left breast while watching a rerun of "Buffy the Vampire Slayer," multitasker that I am.

It turned out to be cancer, of a fairly low-grade variety. My oncologist felt strongly that it never would have developed if I hadn't taken estrogen replacement therapy - another one of the medical marvels that has now been consigned to the Seemed Like a Good Idea at the Time category.

So, in summary, the cutting-edge of medical thinking of the 1990s may have induced my cancer, and then the universally recommended testing protocol failed to detect it.

So who's correct? Only time will tell, but in terms of personal health, most of us would prefer to side with the old adage "an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure."

Who decides about mammograms? Inside the task force [CNN]
Sebelius distances herself from new mammogram guidelines [LA Times]
Are Mammograms the New Political Football? [Time]
A Word About My Breasts [Time]
The Breast Brouhaha [NY Times]

Earlier: New Breast Cancer Screening Guidelines Spark Confusion, Criticism

MEOUCH!!!! OH NOES! DIS MODDLE HAZ NO CAPSHUN!!!!! USE TEH AMAZIN ROFLBOT! AN POST SUGGGESSHUNS IN TEH COMMINTZ!!!!

Earlier:
Vogue Taunts Us With LOL-Worthy Horse
LOLVogue: I Purmd Mai Hare
LOLVogue: I Can Haz Locayshun Shewt? (Plus Contest!)
October's LOLVogue Contest: We Have A Winner
LOLVogue: Teh Billee Goatz Gruff (And Contest!)
LOLVogue: Sumwon Elss Kleanz Up (Plus Contest!)
LOLVogue: I Can Haz Wind Tunnel?
LOLVogue: All Dat Glitterz Iz Mah Pantz
LOLVogue: Superhero Photo Shoot Gets Super Stoopid
French LOLVogue: I Can Has My Close-Up?
I Can Has Jeetann? C'est LOLVogue En Faux Français
LOLVogue: Teh Hare Toss & Teh Bunnee Hop
LOLVogue: Tard Moddles & Bahlinceeyagga
Bon Joor, C'est Paris LOLVogue Encore!
LOLVogue: Sheez Over Ayteen, I Sware
LOLVogue: Hungry Moddles & Rorschach Tests
LOLVogue: Carbs, Botox & Pink-Eye
LOLVogue: Good Help Is Hard To Find
Mon Dieu! C'est French LOLVogue: Shoulders, Champagne and Cigarettes
LOLVogue: Starving Models & Marionettes
LOL'Vogue': Scarves, Silverware & Scooters

Related: LOLLost: Srsly, Guiz, Dis Izland Is Weeerd

An escort agency manager identified only as James told the London Times's Helen Croydon that the TV version of Belle's story made some young women proud to be prostitutes. He says,

The TV series did glamorise it [...] Whether that is good or bad I won't say but I noticed that after it was shown, our younger girls - the ones aged 18 to 21 - started to think that what they did was cool. I call it the ‘Belle de Jour phenomenon'. They used to want to hide it but recently I hear they have come clean to friends - boyfriends, even. Not only has it become acceptable to them but some even aspire to it.

So will the revelation that Belle de Jour is Brooke Magnanti — educated, currently with a loving partner, and apparently with no regrets — convince more young women that prostitution can be cool and even risk-free? Magnanti's (alleged) ex, who has begun an extremely long-winded blog about her, has this rather bizarre answer:

Anyone who reads it and decides to take up prostitution because of it has much deeper issues. Her blog and books were merely the litmus paper that indicated/highlighted it, not the cause.

For example, having watched Twilight you don't just then fall for the next moody, pale adolescent you see. He might be a ravishingly intriguing vampire who can unlock the door to an exciting world, allowing you to escape your rather mundane one. However he might also just be quiet because he has nothing to say and pale because the world he will show you hidden in his bedroom is the Online Gaming forum he inhabits everyday when he should be out in the sun kite surfing every now and again as well. He will be fat, spotty and myopic by 30, not eternally youthful with good cheek bones. There is nothing wrong with the former, but don't be surprised and berate him for it when it happens.

Twilight references aside, the Daily Mail offers a cautionary tale for any young woman who might want to follow in Magnanti's footsteps. The lead is classic Daily Mail — "This week the anonymous sex blogger Belle de Jour revealed her true identity as a scientist and claimed she enjoyed her work as a prostitute. But can any woman justify glamorising prostitution?" — but Christina Errington's story is disturbing. She writes about having unprotected sex with older men as a university student, first because she needed the money and later as a form of retaliation against her overprotective and uncommunicative parents. Two men hit her, and she says "it took me several years of being in a trusting and loving relationship [...] before I could make love without stirring up unpleasant recollections of my life on the streets." She concludes her piece thus:

It is easy to say, as Brooke Magnanti did this week, that selling your body for money doesn't hurt anyone. But it does, and the damage that is caused to a woman's self-respect is sometimes irreparable.

It's clear that prostitution can carry psychological as well as physical risks, whether or not a prostitute is educated and middle-class. But it's somewhat unfortunate that Errington implies she deserved to lose her self-respect because she did sex work. Croydon writes that "those entering this sort of 'work' must have specific non-emotive character traits to be able to handle the psychological strain," and it's obvious that Errington, who took up prostitution in response to poor family relationships, felt this strain keenly. But what "non-emotive traits" would someone need in order not to feel it? Was Magnanti's comfort with her profession the result of her personality — which her ex describes with the words, "she wiped her nose on her sleeve and ate peas off her knife whilst discussing advanced astronomy etc at the dinner table" — or simply of good luck? It's hard to know, perhaps because both Errington's story — the fallen woman scarred by her days of selling herself — and Magnanti's — what Croydon calls the "happy hooker" — are such popular media narratives. What's missing from the public conversation about prostitution — and what continues to be missing despite Magnanti's confession — are nuanced portrayals of both the attractions and risks of sex work. These exist — Michelle Tea's Rent Girl is one. But they get less attention than stories that fit into established prostitution cliches, which, despite her new candor about her identity, Belle de Jour's still does.

Image via Daily Mail.

Happy Hookers: The Other Belles De Jour [TimesOnline]
I Was A Student Call Girl Like Belle De Jour - And The Shame Will Never Leave Me [Daily Mail]
Untitled Post [Brookes Owen]
Belle De Jour's Father: I'm Broken-Hearted After Discovering Her Past [Telegraph]

One of the greatest fallacies about history is the belief that what is commonly presented to us as our past is somehow a complete history. Somehow, the realities that millions of Americans lived were white-washed from history books and often do not return. B. Vikki Vintage's blog is valuable in that it reminds us that the American experience was broad and all-encompassing.


These students are walking to a Negro College Aid function, while still fashionable. Love the dress on the right.


I have nothing to say but: bad-ass.


Back when homecoming was an event.


This scene took my breath away. It belongs in a Turner Classic Movie.


At some point, petticoats came back in style.


We even had pulp comics (which I am now obsessed with).


Some things never go out of style. I'd put this on and happily walk out the door.


This type of pose - allowing the fabric to billow around the body - was super popular. It appears in many of the homecoming photos on the B. Vikki vintage site.


The caption reads "What a difference a year makes!" As we transitioned from the 50s into the 60s, the Afro began to be a popular hair style option.


Her look is part-Mod, part-Twiggy, all fabulous.


Fixed up and looking sharp in suits, gloves, and heels.


And of course, Coca-Cola got in on the action.


Sarah Vaughn was doing her thing.


And so was Dinah Washington.


All this happened while women were working on breaking down barriers in all aspects of life.


And while we were fighting segregation.


As Restructure puts it so well: "People of colour are not a story of suffering . . . Or resistance. We are multifaceted."


What is important to remember that only by finding all the pieces will we, as Americans, have a clear understanding of our whole history. There are many people who were here, living, breathing, loving, dancing - and their stories have been deemed unimportant. I'm most familiar with African-American history, but there is also an Asian American History, a Latin American history, an Indigenous history - all of which overlapped with popular culture and helped to create our American tapestry. To be written out of history is one thing - to do so in a way that the contributions of others are completely forgotten is another. As Threadbared points out, there's still so much more to find.

The sex tape, which allegedly shows Prejean pleasuring herself, initially seemed like a potential PR boost for her book, Still Standing. But the book's Amazon sales rank of #4,786 isn't terribly impressive (though it's #34 in "political doctrines"), and new revelations about her past seem to have soured her relations with supporters. These revelations include not just the tape itself, but a TMZ interview with its alleged intended recipient. This "boyfriend," whom Prejean said she "loved about and cared about," says he only met her in person once, for a four-day stretch they spent in a hotel. He also says she made him at least fifteen sex tapes, all when she was over 18, and that she and her lawyers pressured him to say she was underage — presumably so the tapes would be considered child pornography and not released. Though the ex remains anonymous, it's still in his interest to claim he would never have sex with an underage girl, and it's probably wise to take all his words with a grain of salt. But for the Christian groups that used to back Prejean, they may be the last straw.

The National Organization of Marriage, which once defended Prejean with the words, "Hollywood will dance its tribal war dance over her body–the hatred generated against her has been extraordinary–but Carrie will be free to define her own mission and message from now on," has now removed its press releases in support of her from its website, along with the ad above. And lawyer Charles LiMandri, who works with NOM and used to represent Prejean, now says,

I figured I'd help out for a couple of weeks and that would be it. But the attention continued so I stayed involved. Now that the mediation is over and the case I represented her on is done, I probably will not be involved with her as her attorney in any action going forward.

He also downplays her involvement with NOM, for whom she once recorded robocalls, saying, "It was one day. Then people got angry, so she ended her involvement." Blogger Ed Brayton writes,

[...] God knows, and the public knows, and the NOM now knows, that Prejean is just another shallow, vapid Paris Hilton wannabe draping herself in the Bible while violating most of its precepts. She's the female equivalent of John Ensign, Mark Sanford, Newt Gingrich, David Vitter and innumerable others who place themselves on a moral pedestal while violating everything they claim to stand for as soon as the cameras are turned off (or in Prejean's case, turned on).

The sad thing about Prejean's fall from grace is that she didn't do anything wrong. If it's true that she was of age, her sex tapes weren't illegal, and unlike Mark Sanford, she didn't disappear from elected office to cheat on a partner. All she did was masturbate in front of her cell phone camera, and possibly have a fling in a hotel room with a guy who turned out to be indiscreet. That guy says, "Really, I mean if she was just herself and she'd just take the route of ‘Hey I just like to party and I like to have a great time and I'm hot,' hey, that sells too." It might have sold — but more importantly, it would have been honest. Instead, Prejean chose to stake her fame on judging other people's relationships. So while her sexual choices don't deserve condemnation, it's hard not to be a little gleeful that her punishment for hypocrisy is to be shunned by the very people she courted under false pretenses.

The Right Dumps Carrie [Daily Beast]
National Organization For Marriage Drops Prejean [ScienceBlogs: Dispatches From The Culture Wars]
Sextape Partygirl Prejean Dropped By Marriage Defenders [Colorado Independent]
Prejean's Ex BF: Carrie Wanted Me To Lie [TMZ]