Models: they’re the editorial picture of loveliness and good breeding and long legs and dagger-like cheekbones, and, well, many of them smoke like chimneys. This is not to say that all models are smokers, or that all smokers are models for that matter (no, what?), but you’d be hard-pressed to come up with a well-publicized fashion model who hasn’t been photographed with a cigarette in hand at one point or another. At some glamorous fête? Yep. Outside of a show? Of course. Backstage? Oh, definitely. It’s kind of ironic that, out of the entire industry, Victoria’s Secret models are the ones who are generally encouraged to maintain a squeaky-clean, wholesome, “just us girls havin’ some fun in tacky lingerie and a huge fucking set of wings” image (like, good role models or something?). But, you know, if you’re not that girl, you’re just not that girl, and I guess Leonardo DiCaprio ex Erin Heatherton just is not that girl. In fact, she was photographed puffing on a cigarette just moments before walking into one of the chain’s NYC stores for an event, and made no attempts to toss it or cover it up. Nah, she just shot the paps a look, put it out when she was finished, and strolled on in there. Smoking isn’t Good For You, but honestly, I weirdly kind of enjoy that Erin was so nonchalant about the whole thing. You do you, Erin Heatherton, you do you. [Photo: Fame/Flynet]
This week’s Real Talk focuses on birth control: what we use, why, and our thoughts on all the issues surrounding the way we keep our bodies pregnancy-free! The second half of our conversation about contraception will run tomorrow.
The participants are:
- Rose Fox is a book and magazine editor, event organizer, and activist. You can find them on Twitter, LiveJournal, Dreamwidth, and many other social media platforms as ‘rosefox’.
- Carrie Murphy is a poet, freelance writer, and birth doula. She tweets @carriemurph.
- Patricia Valoy is a civil engineer, writer for Everyday Feminism, and host for Let Your Voice Be Heard! Radio. You can find her on Twitter or read her blog on feminist issues from the perspective of a Latina. Keep reading »
When it comes to judging — or rather, assessing — the appearance, weight, and other such physical attributes of People That Are Not Me, I am forgiving to the point that someone close to me refers to me (endearingly? maybe? I hope?) as “Shallow Hal” (post-hypnotherapeutic incantation, obviously). It’s not that I can’t see it, I just don’t care; what you look like means absolutely nothing to me. I tend to see a person with a personality, rather than a body with a face. And yet, when it comes to myself, I am cruel as can be. I say things to and about myself so callous and demeaning, I literally would not say them to my worst enemy. Look, I don’t even have a worst enemy, but in the event that I did, I would not be even half as mean to them as I am to myself. Body Dysmorphic Disorder: I got it on lock. Comedian Annie Lederman (who, by the way, looks really familiar, and I’m not sure if it’s because I ran into her at a party or something or because she bears a striking resemblance to Emily VanCamp, nor will I ever know, but we do have one mutual friend on Facebook) did an uncanny job of capturing the dichotomy between what you see when you look at me, which is an average, acceptably attractive human female, and what I see when I look in the mirror, which is Danny Devito. ACCURATE. [Annie Lederman via Huffington Post]
We have had the good fortune to test out a FitDesk here at Frisky HQ and I have decided to give you an honest account of my experience working on it. As I write this piece, I promise to pedal the entire without stopping for at least 20 minutes, without censoring myself whatsoever as to authentically capture the experience. When I posted a new picture of Amelia at the FitDesk on my Instagram feed, my friend, also a writer, commented that this is “the kind of thing I long for.” Actually, me too. My favorite thing to do since becoming a writer is to complain about how my neck and shoulders hurt all the time and whine about how my life would be better if I could exercise more like I did when I was underemployed. (Not that I want to go back to being underemployed. That sucked. I love what I do, just hate the neck pain.) I try to mitigate the neck and shoulder discomfort with daily stretches, regular yoga, forced shoulder rubs from my boyfriend, but by noon everyday, my neck is hurting like a mofo again. Everyone’s like, your desk just isn’t set up right. You need to consider the ergonomics. And I’m like, fuck it. I have work to do. I’d rather just complain about it, thank you very much. Keep reading »
Photographer John William Keedy was interested in trying to visualize the dark edges of anxiety. In his series, It’s Hardly Noticeable, Keedy generates powerful visual metaphors that encapsulate just how oppressive and maddening anxiety can feel. The title alone refers to what people with anxiety can fixate on, feel or worry about, that may elude people who don’t share their disorder. Keedy should know: He’s been dealing with anxiety issues for the better part of a decade. His images draw upon the desire for perfection, the need for order and the underlying obsessive need to control and manage one’s surroundings.
Keedy hopes that viewers will identify with his imagery, and feel comforted that they’re not alone. “Is it possible for a society to have a commonly held idea of what is normal, when few individuals in that society actually meet the criteria for normalcy?” Keedy wonders. “These images question the legitimacy of applying the term normal in a societal context by prompting a reconsideration of what, if anything, is normal, or at least what is perceived and labeled as such.” More images after the jump. [John William Keedy] Keep reading »