On Friday I posted a call for Fashion Week interns in which I requested head shots, measurements and top five favorite designers. After the jump, I wrote the words "Oh, for Chrissakes." As if to say, "Oh, for the love of Anna Wintour and all Her loyal Apostles, JOKE." Which I obviously should have just, you know, said. But your tasteful headshots — and admirable measurements, and really depressing comments — reminded us of one of the reasons we went into this whole "halfhearted feminism lite" business in the first place. As whole industries move offshore and get replaced by reality TV shows about those industries, a rabid, fetishistic focus on personal appearance — and sense of "personal style" — as the only surefire way to differentiate oneself from the striving masses has made everyone, women disproportionately, really fucking stupid. (Also: broke.) This is not something we endorse. Honestly, we could give a shit what you look like — and as any employer or slaveowner knows, we'd have to have a few more lawyers on retainer if we did. So once again, we invite you to be a Jezebel Fashion Week intern.

Whatever you look like, rest assured you will be dressed nicer than Moe.

Image via Splash News