The words “models” and “lingerie” don’t usually belong in the same sentence as the words “my boyfriend.” That’s a no brainer. But I wouldn’t have minded if he’d had a shop like the UK department store, Debenham’s, to buy my Christmas girly-things. The store cleverly hired models of all sizes to stroll around the store to help men assess the right sizes for lingerie. (And, let’s be honest, tempt some men into the store in the first place.)
Bra sizes are static, of course, but I’ve owned different brands of panties spanning sizes from S to XL. So no wonder I opened up an early gift of lingerie—a black bra, garter belt, and panties—to discover my darling boyfriend misjudged the size of my giant ass. Seriously, these panties would have cut off blood supply to my vag.
Maybe next year he’ll have a sexy lil’ lingerie model to guide him—and it’ll be a Merry Christmas for everyone. [NYmag.com] Keep reading »
There’s something comfortable and familiar about chain bookstores, like Borders and Barnes & Noble: The vanilla latte always tastes the same, the photography books are always near the fashion books, and there are always comfy chairs. I’ve probably spent thousands of dollars at chain bookstores and I spent many a weekend during my high school years at their poetry nights.
But the bookstore most dear to my heart is a tiny little place called Bloodroot, half vegetarian restaurant and half feminist bookstore. My brother-in-law took me to Bloodroot when I was a teenager and it became a part of my identity. I came of age in the late ’90s and early aughties, when Britney Spears slithered around onstage and suburban kids wore Playboy bunny T-shirts to school, which, don’t get me wrong, is all enjoyable, yet nauseating after a while.
Luckily, the bookstore at Bloodroot proved to be a godsend for the feminists and freaks and gay kids who were trapped in the suburbs until graduation. We could have something we didn’t have anywhere else: a community. Keep reading »
Santa just shoved a big honkin’ piece of gossip down our stocking a day early: a source tells Gawker that Susan Sarandon split from Tim Robbins, her beau of 23 years, for Jonathan Bricklin, a 31-year-old investor in a Manhattan ping pong club. For those of you who live outside the NYC area, yes, our fair city has an “exclusive” ping pong social club called Spin that members pay $100 to attend. Bricklin is an entrepreneur behind Spin and Sarandon has always been an, um, enthusiastic supporter.
We can’t tell if we’re more bowled over by the ping pong angle, or how the 63-year-old actress is allegedly boning a man 30 years younger than her. (It’s the “Madonna effect.”) All we have to say is: Susan Sarandon, you dog, you! [Gawker] Keep reading »
Nooooo! Famously never-married couple, Susan Sarandon and Tim Robbins, have split up after 23 years together, her publicist has confirmed.
Sarandon and Robbins met on the set of “Bull Durham,” and, despite a 12-year age difference, had a long relationship and two sons together. (Sarandon’s daughter, Eva Amurri, is from a past relationship.) The split actually occurred over the summer, her publicist explained, but I guess no one noticed until now. [People]
Oh my stars. If Susan Sarandon can’t make a relationship work, what hope is there for the rest of us? Keep reading »
Consider, if you will, two breakups:
Bachelor #1, a summer romance, invited me on to his parents’ motor boat. It was the day after we’d slept together for the first time and I thought we were having a lovely date. But this jerk puttered into the middle of Long Island Sound, stopped the boat’s engine, and then, as the boat was rocking back and forth in the waves, dumped me. Then he puttered the boat back to the marina, deposited me on a pier, and left, presumably to get in his car and drive himself home. Shocked doesn’t even begin to describe how I felt! ‘Did he REALLY take me on a boat in the middle of Long Island Sound just to break up with me? What a psycho!’ I said to myself, as I called someone to come pick me up. Keep reading »
My 9th grade boyfriend once told me, “Women are crazy and men are stupid. And women are crazy because men are stupid!” Alas, I never touched that guy’s wee wee and he still lives with his mom and dad—so reductive gender stereotypes haven’t worked out for him so well.
But they have fared better for the authors Howard Morris and Jenny Lee, whose self-help book, Women Are Crazy, Men Are Stupid, was picked up by ABC as a sitcom. According to a Publisher’s Weekly review of their book, Morris and Lee are a self-described “major nut bag” and a “genuine dunce” who found love. Ah, nut bag and dunce: role models for us all!
I doubt I’ll be TiVo-ing, since a show implying women are “crazy” in romance doesn’t exactly endear me as a viewer. But who knows? Maybe it’ll be brilliant! (Snickers.) [The Hollywood Reporter] Keep reading »
“I understand from my girlfriends that I’ve been put on a most eligible bachelorette list. I’ll figure that out in time. But right now I pity the man who tries to find a minute in my schedule.”
—Supreme Court Justice Sonia Sotomayor [AP] Keep reading »