Teeny Manolo

In last week’s poll, I asked “how old is too old for a man to father a child?”  The largest vote-getter was anything over fifty.  Thirty percent said over sixty.  There were also some very interesting and heartfelt comments, and I continally marvel at our readers’ eloquence and honesty. But what else should I expect from the superfantastic fans of the Manolosphere?

Buttering up aside, this weekend I was thinking about all the stuff there is for kids. And I’m not necessarily talking about things to buy, although there certainly is that. Malls have play areas, there are gyms especially for kids, seemingly billions of different camps and classes, DVD players built into cars, and practically every restaurant has a kid’s menu.

I don’t remember any of that growing up.

Seriously, this company should forget about advertising on blogs and just start stuffing their brochures in Oscar and Grammy goodie bags. Thanks to the ever-informative Dr. Boli for this.

There, I said it.

You know, this week started badly, is worsening rapidly, and at this rate I really don’t know if I’ll be able to face Friday without smelling salts. Tell me: Do they make overproof Earl Grey? I’ll have a double.

One doesn’t want to natter on about the Good Old Days before one was born (too much) because they were oppressive and hypocritical and full of ugly, synthetic garments and hostility towards the people who supply the toys for our Happy Meals and our mail order babies.

But.

One is reminded, one is, of the time Mister Walt Disney went to former Mousekateer Annette Funicello and asked her to keep her bellybutton covered during her upcoming beach movie, for the sake of the reputation of the Mickey Mouse Club. Well, she did and they gave her three sequels anyway and as far as we know she’s sitting on a beanbag full of cash, drinking whiskey sours her cabana boy mixed and emailing Perez Hilton corny jokes from the verandah of a swanky retirement villa in Santa Barbara. And good for her.

My, how things have changed. First Miley Cyrus, now this:

From Slate:

After reading of the Cyrus flap, I e-mailed my photo to Disney… How did the company square its position on the Liebowitz photo with its risqué billboard in China?…

Foster said he didn’t know which ad agency prepared the ad, how old the model was, or where the photo shoot took place. But he was sure it was the work of a Disney licensee: Shanghai Zhenxin Garments Co. Ltd… He assured me the billboard would be removed immediately…

It may be a small world, after all, but not everyone shares Burbank’s mores, and you can’t be too careful protecting your brand: You never know when a Chinese licensee, or an American glossy, will deviate from the Disney way.

So to speak.

You know how it works, so work it in the comments. And yes, technically this deserves the tag “Baby Clothes.”

I offer you the above illustrations from the new modern fairy tale ”My Beautiful Mommy.”*

It’s the heartwarming story of a sad Mommy who thinks she isn’t good enough the way she is. Why, she’ll never be crowned Mrs. MILF America if her tummy is so flabby and her boobs so droopy!  So in comes the big, buff Plastic Surgery Fairy to make Mommy all better. 

But, Mommy and the Plastic Surgery Fairy want to make sure that the little girl knows that Mommy coming home all bruised, bandaged, and unable to move doesn’t mean that she got hurt!  Oh no!  It just means that Mommy got prettier!

This book is a must-read for all Mommies who care about their impressionable young kids!

*Currently being sold at all finer plastic surgery offices nationwide.  Pick up your copy today!

Do you ever wish you had a son to pass on your wisdom to,
to continue the Chanel heritage?

That’s the last thing I want. I hate all children.
For other people, it’s fine, but not for me.
I was born not to be a family person.

From Prestige magazine, via Jezebel.

Stolen from AccordionGuy

Now, regular readers will know several things about this blog. They’ll know about Listmania. They’ll know about the Friday Caption Contest. They’ll know, if they’ve got the right hormones, about the Celebrity Dad Face-Off.

And they will also know that if you’re looking for practical parenting advice, you go to Glinda. If you’re looking for attitude with or without a side of tentacles, you come to me.

But today Glinda has her hands full making fun of neurasthenic Desperate Housewives, so we must look elsewhere in the blogosphere for a good, stiff dose of sense. Where do we find it?

Ask Aunt Fattie! Seriously, this may be my second favorite advice column, right after Ask Sister Mary Martha (She had me at “Home Depot.” The only way to make Home Depot more awesome is to add nuns). The question o’ the day is, how to look for a job when you’re quite obviously pregnant, even if you’re not actually pregnant. A fraught question indeed. Let’s see what she’s got to say:

Dear Aunt Fatty,

I’m a college senior, about to enter the big wide job market, and I’m looking for some advice on how to handle my Ultra Super Special Body Shape.

You see, I look like I’m about 5-6 months pregnant, despite a complete and total lack of fetuses in my stomach…

Response:

Dear Imaginary Fetus,

Aunt Fattie’s first suggestion would be a T-shirt reading “No, I’m Not Pregnant.”

Her first serious suggestion would be “no empire waists.”

In truth, this is a poser. It is reprehensible but undeniable that firms and companies are reluctant to hire pregnant women because they don’t want to immediately pay for an extended leave of absence. Due to both social and legal restrictions, you can’t solve this with words — they can’t ask, and it’s awkward to answer unbidden. And so, you must solve it with clothes…

Finally, please remember: the “problem” in this case is not your belly, but widespread discriminatory hiring practices. Unfortunately, changing the latter is a huge project, and you shouldn’t have to go unemployed while it’s being undertaken. But even though Aunt Fattie’s advice involves hiding your belly, your belly is NOT the problem here.

And so it goes, with practical advice, witty phrasing, and motivational delivery, and with many amusing and several actually very useful suggestions in the comments. Did you know what happens to your ladyparts when you wear a spandex bodysquasher when you’re actually pregnant?

YOU. DON’T. WANT. TO. KNOW.

Note that the recommended outfits would not include this:

via JudithJane

Welcome to Cthulhu-ville, where the overlords are unspeakable, the architecture is non-Euclidean and the natives are eldritch.

This is the garage sale sign you pass on your way to a playground that looks like this:

And after you’ve take the spawn to the playground you drive home:

(are those bloody handprints? Charming!)

And tuck the tadpoles into bed in an apartment block that looks like this:

Sweet dreams! Fhtagn!

Carrying on from Glinda’s Teeny Poll: What causes art? In this case, it’s simple: a child’s desire for mutilation.

Do 13-year-olds really need to be saving their babysitting and paper route money for breast implants? Cheryl-Ann Webster wondered that herself, when her daughter told her that a friend was already socking away money for the boobflation job she felt would be an absolute necessity, sooner rather than later.

So Cheryl-Ann made a few synthetic boobs herself; she made The Beautiful Women Project.

To demonstrate that beautiful bodies come in all shapes and sizes, she wanted to surround young girls with sculptures of real women’s bodies…

The Beautiful Women Project is a touring art exhibition of life-sized torsos of real women aged 19-91.

Aims:

* To challenge socially-constructed images of beauty
* To raise awareness and open a dialogue about the link between self-worth and physical appearance
* To be a teaching and healing tool

In the artist’s words: “Our bodies tell our life story. They are portraits of our journeys and experiences. Knowing that our body is beautiful just as it exists, is a message more people need to see and hear.”