My thoughts when I first saw this picture, as they jumped onto the hamster wheel in my head:
1. Wow, that mannequin is super skinny!
2. But aren’t all mannequins super skinny? At least this one’s anatomically correct. It (she?) even has a bellybutton and nips – clearly they sprang for the high-end model! (Model! Hahahah! Does that count as a pun? Did I just make myself laugh out loud? Yep.)
3. They should buy the best, they’re La Perla. Their stuff is so expensive that even carrying the shopping bag has caché, kind of like toting a Tiffany’s box. Are they the Tiffany’s of lingerie?? Me being so cheap that I wait until Target bras go on sale, I wouldn’t know as I sure have never bought anything from them.
4. Is that even lingerie? If it is, it doesn’t look very supportive. And for that price you ought to be able to do a double back layout and land on a pony jumping off a diving board without risking a nip-slip. (Ooooh I haven’t seen Wild Hearts in YEARS. I wonder if I’d still love it as much without the preteen hormones coursing through my veins?)
Earlier this week a pregnant woman was booted from a gym for not sufficiently covering up her bump. Planet Fitness’s bizarro dress code strikes again! The gym manager asked her to leave since her tiny tot-tent was ever-so-slightly showing thanks to a tank top that was riding up and was therefore in violation of the company’s “no midriff” and “no string tank tops” policies. This makes sense since last month a woman was asked to cover up her “intimidating” crop top or leave, before that a Muslim woman sued when they kicked her out for refusing to remove her religious headscarf and then a teen was told that her full-coverage tank top was making other patrons “uncomfortable” and she needed to change or get out. So at least it’s not just pregnancy discrimination?
It would be so easy to laugh at Planet Fitness and their silly, strangely enforced dress codes. But, little known fact, most gyms have a dress code policy. It’s not often enforced except for extreme cases but any gym big enough to have a legal department usually has a few rules about what constitutes appropriate workout attire. And all the policies sound a little weird, frankly.
Just a dancer doing stuff. Living life, making art. Like you do.
Barf as art? Millie Brown makes her living as a “vomit artist” by regurgitating colored milk onto canvases — something I’d normally be willing to let slide because, let’s be honest, that’s nowhere near as gross as the lady who paints with her own menstrual blood or the woman who uses her pectoral pineapples as paintbrushes. But last weekend Brown made headlines for turning her work into performance art when she went on stage with Lady Gaga at SXSW. (For my mom and anyone else who is firing up ye old search engine: South by Southwest is an arts and music festival in Austin, Texas that used to be considered indie but now that Lady Gaga is there is basically the I Heart Radio festival but with cooler souvenirs.) During Gaga’s song “Swine”, Brown joined her on stage, swallowed some green glittery liquid, stuck her fingers down her throat and puked all over Gaga. No security guards rushed the stage because Brown wasn’t just a Little Monster gone rogue, she was part of the act.
Early this morning whilst my children were whizzing all over the floor in the area of the toilet and I was still snuggled under the covers checking the weather (-7! It’s like Minnesota misses me and followed me all the way here! Aw!), the internets were all atwitter with shock surrounding The Biggest Loser’s latest winner, Rachel Frederickson – or rather, what’s left of her. Frederickson made Biggest Loser history and international headlines for losing a record-breaking 60% of her body weight, dropping 155 pounds in a mere five months on the show. I saw a couple of headlines but then I was into the morning rush of trying to get all my kids clothed (success), fed (success) and to school on time (utter failure) and didn’t have time to catch up with the story until this afternoon. And then… whoa.
Bob and Jillian’s expressions (and silent “oh my god”) pretty much summed up the general reaction:
Did you know lots of lip balm has sugar in it? Katy Perry, you’re welcome.
“Sugar is the new nicotine!” proclaims Action on Sugar, a consortium of scientists and doctors whose mission is to reduce sugar consumption and diabetes worldwide, in a new public awareness campaign.
According to their press release, “This group will initially target the huge and unnecessary amounts of sugar that are currently being added to our food and soft drinks. Action On Sugar will carry out a public health campaign, to make the public more sugar aware and thus avoid products that are full of hidden sugars. Children are a particularly vulnerable group targeted by industry marketing calorie dense snacks and sugar-sweetened soft drinks.”
Public health! Awareness! The children!! – they certainly hit all the high points for making a headline-garnering campaign but are they correct? Is sugar really the health menace to society that nicotine is? And should we be fighting it the same way we fight cigarettes?
Athlete? Or just worst texting posture ever?
Still looking for a theme for your Super Bowl Party? You might want to consider “lawsuit” – at least if you’re an NFL cheerleader or someone who loves NFL cheerleaders. (Or someone who loves lawyers.) After years of putting on their game faces – both on and off the field – some of the Raiderettes have decided to break ranks and open up about the awful way the NFL treats their girls by suing the Oakland Raiders and the NFL for illegal contracts, loss of pay, unfair employment contracts and a host of other smaller indignities that have shocked all of us who still think of cheerleaders as the high school girls who Had It All.
Sharon Vinick, the lawyer representing the Raiderettes, explains that the Raiders cheerleaders are contracted for an annual salary of $1,250, which amounts to an hourly wage of less than $5 per hour. Not only are they payed an abysmal salary but they only get it at the end of the season, after all their “fines” are deducted. Here are just a few of the things you can be penalized for if you’re a Raiderette:
Yoga as a wet t-shirt contest? Fail, Planet Yoga. Plus, her Bow Pose is really not that well done. Not that I’m judging other people’s yoga practice but I figure if you’re going to be modeling yoga for Planet Yoga you should probably at least try and get your knees together? Although this was my first time ever photoshopping pasties – so, that’s fun.
There was a tempest in the proverbial chai herbal-infused detox teapot a couple of weeks ago when famed yoga guru and self-confessed perv Cameron Shayne put up a post about why it’s not only hot for yoga teachers to have sex with their students but it’s also very cool because it’s, like, relaxing and athletic and a natural bodily function and part of the whole yoga experience and a bunch of other garbage that I couldn’t read because I was too busy pearl-clutching over his atrocious grammar. (Lesson #1: Never trust a dude with two first names.) He argued that the power dynamic between teacher and student that normally makes such relationships verboten isn’t the same in yoga because… yoga.