If you’ve been hanging out in the ladyblogosphere, you’ve heard of Cat Marnell. Or maybe you know her as “Cat Marnell, ugh.” Cat Marnell was — until last week — the health/beauty editor at xoJane. More pertinently, though, she was an open, unabashed, self-described “pillhead” who frequently wrote about her drug use and abuse online. (As well as some other things.) She had been sent to rehab in April at the insistence of xoJane’s publishers. The New York Post reported on Friday that Marnell left xoJane, seemingly of her own choice, because she would rather pass the summer “on the rooftop of Le Bain looking for shooting stars and smoking angel dust with my friends.”
This morning, NYMag.com published an interview with Marnell with more of the same Cat-ariffic quotes. “I’ve always gone to rehab for the wrong reasons.” “ I’m just a fucking freak show.” “I spent Christmas Eve with Jane [Pratt] and Courtney Love.” ”I had drug bags pasted on the walls [of my apartment] because I collected dope bags.” And she goes into great detail about how she ended up parting ways with xoJane, which has something to do with losing her pills, crashing, her Internet being shut off so she couldn’t write posts, and forgetting her cell phone at the office.
Compelling reading? Cat always is. It’s not exactly a secret that people read her on xoJane for that ZOMG what the fuck did she just say now soundbite, not her questionable health or beauty advice (though her various product recommendations did fly off shelves). But as long as Cat Marnell’s been tearing up my RSS feed — and that of every other blog-reading woman I know — I’ve felt uncomfortable with rubbernecking this drug addict. Keep reading »
Yesterday, on the anniversary of Roe v. Wade, I stopped to be grateful. I am grateful that my 22-year-old daughter has the right to her reproductive freedom and access to abortion. I am grateful that I was able to get an abortion when I needed one when having a child was not an option — a choice I don’t regret for a minute. I am especially grateful that scores of women are no longer dying as a result of botched illegal abortions, that we do not have to be that desperate anymore.
But without fail, every year for the last several, I am acutely aware of the repeated attempts – and mounting successes — by the anti-choice movement to dismantle Roe completely. I grow concerned with the increasing lack of access to abortion by women in poverty and in rural areas where clinics have been protested or legislated out of existence.
Last week I got into a heated exchange with a group of men on Facebook about abortion. It was regarding the Texas law requiring a woman view an ultrasound prior to getting an abortion. The man starting the thread praised the Texas Supreme Court for upholding the ultrasound law. Keep reading »
In a scene from “Scouted,” the E! reality TV series premiering this evening — in which model scouts troll the malls, parking lots, and fast food chains of suburbia looking for the next Gisele Bundchen — a middle-aged woman excitedly approaches a willowy girl in a grocery store.
“Have you ever thought about modeling?” she inquires, eyeing up her young prey with leering enthusiasm.
I sat there thinking, Is she talking to her friend? Because standing next to the skinny young blonde with the Byronesque (read: large) profile and receding chin was a much more attractive girl. But, no, the scout was talking to the odd-looking one. Keep reading »
“I was never that fat,” Kelly Osbourne said of Christina Aguilera‘s look at the Michael Jackson Tribute Concert. Kelly justified her unkind remarks with this: ”She called me fat for so many f**king years … so you know what? F**k you! You’re fat too.” Oh. No. She. Didn’t.
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Sigh … Hold on for a minute, need one more … Sigh. So, I was just over at xoJane.com and stumbled upon an article titled, “Get It Together, Girls! Every Goddamn Pharmacy In New York Is Out Of Plan B! Everyone!” and now I am feeling depressed. Depressed because blogger Cat Marnell wrote about her own woefully irresponsible sex life, in which she does not use condoms, won’t go on the Pill because it’ll make her “fat,” and once used Plan B three times in one month, under the banner of it being a larger trend among women. Keep reading »
The previews for the Anna Faris vehicle “What’s Your Number?” couldn’t make me want to see that movie any less if they added “Exorcist”-style projectile vomiting. The premise, if you have magically managed to miss the media blitz, is that Faris’ character realizes her list of sexual partners has one more digit than most of her friends’. She spirals into a panic attack induced by slut-shaming and spends the rest of the movie trying not to add a new guy to the list. It’s supposed to be funny, but I can’t work up more of a response than a frustrated eye-roll and a long, exasperated sigh.
Here’s the thing about counting sexual partners: context matters. A number is just a number. It gives no background on the who, what, when, where, and why. If we want to judge people’s sexual activity (which I’m not convinced we do), the qualitative matters so much more than the quantitative. Keep reading »