Accessorize your sequined halter top with a Bible verse. The Ironman, a dedicated non-fashionista, was listening to a radio show host rant about "Forever 21," a clothing company which places the classic John 3:16 on their shopping bags. Hubby says that the host was criticizing the fact that this clothes line is for the tart of today not the Proverbs woman of yesteryear. Purr-fect topic for talk radio.
Beauty Bond(age). The excerpt I read from this book explained how a product called "Restylane" caused the author's (well-known Manhattan media persona) upper lip to swell to the size of a "large yam." Gross. For those curious about the manners and mores of privileged, vain American women (more than a few are moms) whose lives revolve around collagen, botox, liposuction, and nip-n-tuck appointments (and who could stand to memorize James 4:14), this will probably be an interesting read. Anthropology-lite.
The Violent Femmes. On Boston's meanest streets, public officials are frequently having to deal with the contemporary problem of adolescent females in gangs.
Who are the real girls? This song by Daniel Amos, released in 1983, seems timely.
Update: Angry, academic feminist excoriates the beloved blue-collar Dr. Dolittle and his admirers.
