"Major Model Management has a special way of keeping their girls stick thin. Agents have told some already too-thin models there that they need to lose even more weight, which isn't unusual. It's the diet that has the models upset. "One was told she had to lose 15 pounds," said our source. "She got strict instructions. She was told to only have a little bit of orange juice and a big coffee in the morning, which would make her go to the bathroom. Then she was told to keep sucking down coffee all day until at least 3 p.m., when she could eat lettuce with a tiny bit of tuna with a drop of mayo. Dinner is a tiny square of broiled fish about 2 inches long and a glass of wine." Our source adds that the girls are also discouraged from hitting the gym because the stylists don't want the models to have any muscle tone."
The following item appears in The New York Post today. This is the ideal to which we allow our daughters and neices and sisters to be held? Let's do what we can to make sure that they know the "perfect" looks they see in magazines are often airbrushed little souls under layers of make-up, sometimes living tortured lives that are designed to prevent them from achieving good health and well being, in pursuit of an unrealistic presentation. (Back in the day, I wish someone had told me that about the women on the pages of Cosmo.)
"Major Model Management has a special way of keeping their girls stick thin. Agents have told some already too-thin models there that they need to lose even more weight, which isn't unusual. It's the diet that has the models upset. "One was told she had to lose 15 pounds," said our source. "She got strict instructions. She was told to only have a little bit of orange juice and a big coffee in the morning, which would make her go to the bathroom. Then she was told to keep sucking down coffee all day until at least 3 p.m., when she could eat lettuce with a tiny bit of tuna with a drop of mayo. Dinner is a tiny square of broiled fish about 2 inches long and a glass of wine." Our source adds that the girls are also discouraged from hitting the gym because the stylists don't want the models to have any muscle tone."
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***Warning: This blog is intended for mature audiences only. If you proceed, you do so with the express understanding that there may be content in this blog that does not appeal to your particular sensibilities. Really. I'm not kidding! Last chance to turn back. Okay, you can't say I didn't warn you...
My favourite way to pass the time when I'm on the highway is with a book on tape or CD. I've listened to dozens and dozens of them including Jane Fonda's life story (read by the author), Jayson Blair's fall from grace as the New York Times' most famous plagiarist, and all of the Harry Potter books. On a recent trip to Chapters I found the taped set of, The Camera My Mother Gave Me, written and read by the author of the acclaimed autobiography, Girl, Interrupted. Angeline Jolie won an Oscar for her role in the Girl, Interrupted film. Susanna Kaysen, the author, has depth and an original way with the language so I thought, The Camera might be a good little story. The back of the case described it as "spare, frank and highly original" and "an extraodinary investigation into the role sex plays in perceptions and our notions of ourselves..." Cool, I thought. Not cool. Not cool at all. That old cliche about not judging a book by its cover certainly comes into play here. This is an excruciatingly detailed and intimate story about the author's very painful - shall we say - cat, and her relentless search in the world of medicine to find a cure for that pain. It is basically three entire tapes of her whining about how sore she is in the cat area and how everything that's supposed to make it better, makes it worse. She has a sexually aggressive boyfriend who refuses to believe or understand this chronic pain. She whines constantly and exhaustingly to him, to her friends, to anyone who will listen and the word I'm substituting cat for is repeated so often it starts to sound foreign like a quaint town in Italy or an exotic spice. Because I was on the road when I started the book, I thought I'd hang in and find out how the pain was resolved. It wasn't. I drove through 6 sides of cassette and when the end came I was left hanging by the still painful cat. It wasn't the least bit insightful. This is an absolutely, truly terrible book which must have been published solely on the strength of Kaysen's success with "Girl". I cannot tell you how depressing and horrible it is to hear that a woman's life is nearly destroyed by her painful cat and then to be left with no resolution! Also, there is no mention of a camera or a Mother in The Camera My Mother Gave Me. It's like calling a cookbook, Things I Left In The Shower. Or making a story titled, My Terribly Painful Cat about a Mom and a camera. This book actually made me angry. For all I know, Kaysen is still wandering around out there or huddled on the couch under a chenille throw, suffering. There is nothing to learn and nothing to gain from this so-called "memoir". It's just awful. So awful, in fact, that I won't be putting it into my eventual garage sale or donating it to charity. It's going straight into the trash. Is anyone surprised by the results of a new study that find homeless women in Toronto are 80 percent more likely to be sexually assaulted or have a mental illness, than homeless men?
Women in our society, overall, are more vulnerable than men. Homeless women, with no protection or perhaps access to assistance, would be more vulnerable still. These studies would be ridiculous except that they bring the issue to light. I find that few people want to talk about homelessness because it's a downright scary proposition and we - the average Joes and Janes - feel helpless because there's nothing tangible or immediate that we can do to help, except perhaps buy a homeless person a sandwich or a cup of coffee. Before she began anchoring the evening news on Global, Caroline MacKenzie was a reporter there and I vividly recall her assignment of posing as a homeless woman in downtown Toronto. She had a hidden camera and microphone which captured the sick propositions that were made to her in exchange for money or a meal. One guy went so far as to tell her that after he got what he wanted, he'd do whatever she wanted for her! He wasn't timid or nervous. It appeared he had done this before. And a homeless woman with no money and no hope might just feel despondent enough to go for such an offer. As I watched the report, I found myself thinking, "RUN!" and hoping the reporter would do so! She did not. I sent Caroline an email to congratulate her on her bravery. To her, it was just another day on the job and at the end of that day, she went back to her comfortable home. I don't claim to know the solution but to think that people are being beaten, sexually abused and suffering from mental illness while having no home to call their own, always makes me sad. I don't think there is just one solution. The reasons are as infinite as the personalities of the people themselves. But I do know that the results of so many D'oh! studies aren't really helping anyone - save for creating discussion, like this one. The Eagles reunite more often than George Clooney changes girlfriends. Led Zeppelin gets back together for a one-off show, sparking hopes and dreams of further performances. And now NKOTB or- for those who weren't screaming Mimis for them in the early 1980's - New Kids On The Block are back together. And the fans that grew up with them are rabid to see them again.
When New Kids were making the teeny-boppers bop, I was catching Bruce Springsteen's Born In The USA tour, and playing the likes of Tina Turner, Mike and the Mechanics and Corey Hart in my radio gig. The all-boy band never grabbed me as a music lover or through my work. But I've also never been much for reunions. Or retirement comebacks. I like to move on. The New Kids don't though, even though they're pushing 40 and hardly resemble the fresh-faced "kids" they once were. It's all about money, honey, and fans are all too willing to give theirs up. Lionel Richie and the Commodores were huge when I was a kid and I loved their stuff. They're getting back together and going on tour but I wouldn't cross the street to see them for free. I was never a fan of Uriah Heep but they're putting out their first new CD in 10 years and I'm sure I'll never hear it. It's just not my thing. But there's a bumper crop of options this spring, if it's yours. When I first started in radio, I remember my biggest fear was getting fired. I put up with a lot of humiliating crap from bosses and tolerated ridiculous shifting because I was worried about getting sacked and all of the implications surrounding losing a job; paying rent, looking for work, etc etc.
I haven't been fired but I don't say that smugly. One former boss claims he saved me from the axe at a radio station long ago and far away. That gun has been pointed at many colleagues over the years and sometimes with very little reason. Sometimes there have been very good reasons. It varies. My attitude toward firing has really changed over the years. I don't fear it. I still don't want it but it's not something I think about. Living a while tends to give a person perspective on the little speedbumps in life and career. The New York Daily News is running a terrific article today about celebrities who were fired and then went on to bigger things. Comic Sarah Silverman was let go from Saturday Night Live after one season when none of her sketches made it to air - not one! Howie Mandel was let go from the CNE after he made jokes about the ride he was operating. It's part of his stand-up act now. He would tell the riders to make sure their red strap was fastened because they were about to go upside down! There was no red strap. The ride didn't go upside down! Some humourless riders complained and that was it for Howie. David Letterman was fired from a classical musical station for not taking the music seriously enough. Madonna says she had a lot of "one day" jobs including Dunkin' Donuts where she was let go for squirting jelly at customers. There are always options and some of the people I've known who have been let go have gone on to much better careers - in the same field or in other lines of work. Every challenge is also an opportunity, perhaps to really ask yourself if what you're doing is what you really want to do. I hope you never get fired but I also hope that if you do, you know it's not the end of the world. There seems to be an epidemic of low self-esteem among my sisterhood and I find it disturbing and puzzling.
If what the New York Post says is accurate, Sarah Larson, the recent ex of George Clooney, got breast implants during the year they were a couple, to please him and to improve her chances of becoming a star. This beautiful, presumably talented performer (not George, Sarah) has allegedly bowed to pressure to enhance her boobular region. But just who is putting this pressure on women in Hollywood? And which women are taking it on as their own failing? Have you looked at the ribcages of Gwynneth Paltrow or Sandra Bullock lately? There are two very successful, attractive actresses who haven't undergone cosmetic procedures and have done quite alright despite it. If George talked Sarah into acquiring sacs of saline, colour me disappointed. Now, it's not for me to say what someone does with their body. It's their business, really. But the reason behind it sometimes disturbs me. Happiness doesn't come with a cup size. It comes from within and there seem to be an awful lot of chicks with hollow centres in our midst. As a "sister", that's what concerns me most. Why are they growing up with no sense of self worth? What link is missing in the development chain? I have long believed that low self-esteem is the cause of most ills in the world. Break down any prejudice - even an inflated sense of entitlement - and you'll find a person whose ego is resting on thin ice, indeed. Two quotes I've drawn strength from are appropriate here. First, from the great spiritual mind of the insightful Marianne Williamson: "Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others." Or as an old friend of mine used to day, "Don't hide your light under a bushel!" The second quote illuminates the futility of looking for a sense of self outside yourself, from the wry and dry wit of author Jacqueline Briskin: "I feel successful when the writing goes well. This lasts five minutes. Once, when I was on the bestseller list, I also felt successful. That lasted three minutes." We need to find that successful and powerful feeling outside of those little moments that fuel us with it. And we need to instill that in our daughters, and our sons, as early as we can. When Bruce only had a handful of fans, say, in the days of The River, it felt like he was all "mine". He was essentially undiscovered by the masses as a major talent and therefore, more enjoyable for moi to listen to. Then along came Dancing In The Dark and everything changed.
I believe I was listening to CHUM for the debut of that single. And I clearly recall the disc jockey introducing the highly anticipated single by saying, "And here it is, "This Gun's For Hire" by Bruce Springsteen, on CHUM!" But I digress. Now my favourite television show, Last Comic Standing, is undergoing a similar shift in popularity and approach. It's slicker and it gets right to the action (auditions and showcase performances) much more quickly. Gone are the tiresome, repetitive liners and intros and a much more conversational feel is in their place. This season's LCS is definitely the best ever. Two Canadians are now in the semis; Winston Spear and Sean Cullen. They're rotating judges. They're showing more behind the scenes stuff and counting down the worst auditions. It's really a hot show when previous instalments were mostly must see TV for stand-up comedy nuts, like me. So now that it's becoming more popular, I'm afraid I'm going to lose it, like I lost Bruce who hasn't belonged to me for a couple of decades now! He belongs to everyone and his songs haven't really permeated my soul in quite some time. There's no way I'll lose my affection for the genre of stand-up. But I'll probably have to get used to sharing the reality show with everyone. One of my favourite websites, www.awfulplasticsurgery.com, has really evolved into something worth bookmarking. I've had an almost morbid fascination with its fixation on the botched and badly done cosmetic procedures on the rich and famous for quite some time but now the author is regularly adding content and updating the site sometimes daily. It's deliciously dishy!
It's also giving nearly equal time to men, including bad operations and some good ones. This is the site that proved to me that Keith Urban was a very funny looking guy who got a total makeover into a hunk at the end of a scalpel. Some of the other before and after photos are jaw dropping. Steve Guttenburg's nose, Jesse Metcalfe's pecs - they're all on display in their full, vain glory. Anyone who thinks breast implants are routine and always safe needs to check out a photo in the archives from May of this year. (Go to "next page" at the bottom and click on Scary Boobs Diagnosis) This beautiful woman's breasts morphed together in the middle of her chest. It's not going to happen to everyone with implants, of course, but her surgeon needs a slap. The disclaimer at the top of the site doesn't keep the lawyers at bay. You'll find the occasional threatening letter posted online as well. The latest comes from Janine Turner's (Northern Exposure) lawyers who say she has never had plastic surgery, blah blah blah. I do think the host is incorrect about some people. Faces droop, figures change with age and weight gains and losses- I don't think he allows for that sometimes. But it's still great fun to read, for entertainment purposes only. Bill Maher's "When You Ride Alone, You Ride With Bin Laden" somehow escaped my attention when it came out in book form a couple of years ago but the audiobook caught my eye last weekend. I'm still only on CD #1 and I have already pronounced this book, brilliant.
Long after the grieving period was over, I gently criticized people for spending thousands and thousands on flowers to lay at the gates of Diana's house. "What a waste", I said. "Just a diversion from doing something positive that would better serve her memory." Maher is of like mind, so how could I not agree with him? Not about Diana, but about the war on terror and how we as North Americans with our bloated senses of entitlement are not helping to fight it. Examples abound, from wearing NYPD and NYFD hats in "tribute" to the men and women who were so brave on 9-11, but still not paying them what they're worth. By bitching and moaning about having some of what is actually the cheapest gas in the world and sucking it up any and every time we want it, while its purchase indirectly funds Al Quaida's reward system for the families of suicide bombers. Maher's thesis is that people don't want to see the links and the government isn't doing a good enough job of proving them. He also makes a very good case for putting the word 'profiling' back into the good books and ending the ridiculous notion of treating everybody equally at airports; Ohio Grandmas and 9 year olds from Georgia aren't likely terrorists so Maher says they should get a pass. The book goes much deeper and whether or not you agree, it's fascinating listening. Maher doesn't think people are stupid but he does think we're selfish and unwilling to give up a little comfort for the greater good. He also admits that sacrifice is hard, so is seeking out a charity and writing a cheque, which is why it's easier to buy a handful of flowers and leave them to rot with those left by other well-meaning but ineffective people. The Toronto Star ran a fascinating feature piece last weekend on the concept of a best-selling book. Its essence: peoples' life stories in six words, either in a sentence or a list.
Try to boil your existence down to just six words. It's not that hard. And it can change, too. It's not necessarily an epitaph but a marker for where you are right now. Your concept of "self" may evolve - and for your sake as a human being I hope it does! - so just attempt to come up with your six word life story and see what you get. Here are some examples: Toronto Mayor David Miller: "Thriplow, Joan, Jill, Julia, Simon, Toronto." Others: "For sale: Master's degree, never used." "I have exceeded my shelf life." "Married wrong girl but we're happy." "Much love to give; no recipient." "Overeducated janitor; My ambition lacks ignition." And this is the one that first came to my mind, for me, about me: "Lived in reaction, not with intention." Like I said, we evolve and these little life stories can - and in my case will - certainly change. |