Awww. Kate Moss is getting married to her boyfriend, Jamie Hince of The Kills. The word no the street is that he proposed Tuesday night while the two were in bed, and surprised her with a 1920s vintage engagement ring. They celebrated with a romantic dinner the next night. The wedding is set for July 2nd, and Kate’s eight-year-old daughter will be a bridesmaid. Cute!
After the jump, some fitting gifts for this pair. Keep reading »
Warning: this image might put you in a trance. On one hand, I’m glad to see they didn’t butcher the original image by shaving inches off Katy’s arms and legs. But they sure seemed to have pumped up her ta-tas huh? But the hand! The hand! I cannot look away! Keep reading »
I did not grow up in a football-loving family (we went to political rallies on Sundays instead), so the Super Bowl has never meant a whole heck of a lot to me. But since I became an adult, I’ve starting tuning into the big game for three obvious reasons: 1) I like the food commonly served at Super Bowl parties, 2) it’s the only time I’m actually interested in watching commercials, and 3) I want to watch the spectacle that is the halftime show. Consider me officially bummed out, then, that my parents were such pigskin-hating hippies in 1989, the year the halftime show took a significantly bizarre turn in the form of Be-Bop Bamboozled, a magic show that involved 3-D glasses and a magician-slash-Elvis-impersonator in glitter spandex. Check it out above and then go read an utterly fascinating interview with the producer behind the show over at Popdust. This year’s entertainers, the Black Eyed Peas, better bring it. [Popdust
] Keep reading »
Men outnumbered women two-to-one in the nation’s news, culture and literary magazines in 2010 — and in some cases the discrepancy was much, much worse. VIDA, an organization for women in the literary arts, counted all the bylines in mags like The New Yorker, The Atlantic Monthly, The New York Review of Books, Harper’s, and The New Republic and lit journals like Paris Review, Tin House, Granta, and Poetry for analysis. Literary journals Paris Review, Granta and Poetry were the most egalitarian, with a still-not-great two men’s bylines for every byline by a woman. The worst offender? The New York Review of Books, abysmally, published six bylines by men for every one byline by a woman. Pfffffffft. Keep reading »
One month back on the dating scene and I’ve gone on three dates; well, I don’t know if you can call them dates. More accurately, I’ve had dinner with three men. The first was a friend who I thought I might have feelings for. The next, with a guy I met on the subway. And the third happened last night. I walked into a restaurant to have dinner with the man who I thought was going to be my date only to discover that he had a shiny, gold wedding band on his left hand. News to me. Keep reading »