According to the Daily Beast, anyway…

At the top were names such as Louis Bardo, Marcello Daniel, and Cosima.  All right, I’m down with those.  But Billie Beatrice? Amadeus Benedict Edley Luis? Nelly May Lois?  I’m sorry, but I am so not feeling them.  For some reason, I don’t like when girls are named boy names. I know, I’m an old fogey and anti-feminist, but I just think that when I see a name on a piece of paper, I should know if it is a boy or girl.  Feel free to flog me publicly.  Don’t get me started on the Amadeus one, which the site praises for it’s mix of “style, ethnicities, and eras.” Do they not know people are going to follow him around on the playground singing the refrain to a rather bad but unforgettable 80′s pop song? And Nelly May Lois sounds like someone who spends most of her time being mean to people at a bingo parlor.

At the bottom were gems like  Buddy Bear Maurice, Sundance Thomas, and Draco.  Jamie Oliver (who is currently winning his CDF round) is perpetrator of the Ursa major, and Draco comes courtesy of one former Ms. Winnie Cooper.  I’m not totally up in arms about Draco, though.  At least it’s a literary name, not one that’s made up.  They also slammed Vera Farmiga about her choice of name, which was an ethnic Lithuanian one.  I’m not cool with making fun of names from other cultures, so I take issue with that one.

It’s a hectic week my friends, so posting this week? Totally on the light and fluffy side… Hope you don’t mind.

You know, she may be a bit on the cray-cray side of the fashion spectrum, but there is no denying that this quote, given in this interview, is refreshingly down-to-earth:

“The parenting bit is much harder than the acting bit,” Bonham Carter said. “You just never know what to do. So me and Tim were sort of fed up with getting hurt. ‘What do we now?’ But the parenting class has been really useful. It’s a bit like Parenting Anonymous. There’s a group of parents just spewing out their latest trauma of the week. ’I’m Helena, and I’m a mother.’

Can you imagine many other famous actresses uttering something so humble?  I mean, there are quite a few who do the old “fake humble” thing where they gush about how their kids’ poopy diapers keep them grounded, but to attend a parenting class with other parents?  And sit there and say, “I don’t know what the hell I’m doing?”

Fabulous.

Helena, I will have tea with you any day of the week, and trust me, I’ve got lots of parenting trauma stories to share.

And we can also talk about how your son looks exactly like your husband.

Even though she is beautiful and her daughter is beautiful, I am not in love with this cover.

Am I wrong in thinking that Naleigh is looking almost resentfully at the camera? 

Again, if you love Gisele Bundchen, then it’s a royal “we,” darlings.

But flitting about on the internets, it seems there is not necessarily a huge contingent of Gisele fans.  Well, female ones, anyway. 

I know she’s a supermodel and all that, but I’ve never thought she was all that attractive.  And trust me, I can totally admit when someone is more beautiful than myself.  There are a lot of them out there.  But Gisele has never done it for me as a model.

Let’s start with the fact that she began dating Tom (Justin Bieber Hair) Brady when his then-girlfriend was pregnant.  That automatically sort of leaves a bad taste in my mouth, even though there might have been some extenuating circumstances I don’t know about.  At least try not to make it public until absolutely necessary, in my opinion.

Then she got married to him and became pregnant.  Good for her.

Except, she lorded over everyone how easy and pain-free her birth experience was.  And she didn’t preface it with any comments about how it was just her experience, and how other women might have very painful births indeed.  Nope, she just tried to make everyone else feel inferior to her badass waterbirth self.  She had no pain because she was so damn hopeful.  Right.

Then, apprarently oblivious to the negative press she was already getting, she gave interviews claiming that her six month old son was potty trained.  Gisele, I hate to tell you, but there is a huge difference between you as a mother reading signals and holding the child over the toilet, and actually being potty trained.  Yes, I know all about elimination communication, and I’m going to stand firm and say that until the baby can get themselves up on a toilet without parental assistance , then that doesn’t count as potty trained. 

And really, I’m not sure I could like anyone who would allow their formerly hot husband to go out in public looking like an aging Justin Bieber. Seriously.

You get a celebrity baby picture!

Awww, look at that cute little guy!  I think I seriously need to nom on those toes.  However, Louis seems as if he has already learned to hate the paparazzi.

Sometimes I like to pretend that in some alternate universe, I could be friends with celebrity moms. And while I certainly enjoy attending art gallery openings and film festivals, there is also a large part of me that enjoys a good barbeque and some Pictionary. There are some celebrity moms with whom I just don’t think I could hang.

I can’t remember exactly when Ms. Gwyneth began showing up on my celebrity radar, certainly well before she became a mom.  I think it was when she began dating Brad Pitt, and I had a very Bluth-ian reaction to their relationship. Her?  Then she went and won an Oscar for a role in a movie that was cute, but not exactly something that should have beaten Cate Blanchett. 

So I think from that point, I was primed and ready to dislike her.

I do have to make the disclaimer that I really know nothing about her other than what she has chosen to put out there in the public domain.  And that’s the disturbing part, because what is out there is far from flattering. 

Despite being a native Californian, she hates the United States, and in a snooty way.  Not good enough to raise her children here, or some such claptrap.  Gwyneth, with all the money you have, I guarantee your children would have a nice life no matter where you chose to live.

I profiled a picture of her daughter’s room way back when, and was struck by the lack of whimsy or playfulness.  I’m all about the whimsy, and apparently Mrs. Martin, not so much.  Witness her TriBeCa apartment.  Check Apple’s bed.  What Mrs. Martin may call whimsy, I call “prone to inducing nightmares.”

And then, there is GOOP.  Oh, where to begin?  Her website has been widely pilloried as elitist, unrealistic, and downright silly.  To be so self unaware as to blithely ramble about ensembles worth more than some people’s homes, and using only a particular type of pink salt, or detoxing, or hundreds of other “tips” that only people with time and money to spare can take advantage of.  

Oh, and the fact that as a person who was a macrobiotic and seems to have food issues, got to eat across Spain with Mario Batali.

Yeah, that’s definitely what put me over the edge.  Bitch.

*If you happen to think Gwyneth is the bee’s knees, then consider it a royal “we.” Oh, and ignore the bitch part, too.

A sick ten month old who refuses to slow down and a husband who is working some extremely odd hours leads me to do an emergency cop-out post of a celebrity picture today.

I think Nahla is beautiful, but for some reason, I’m not loving her dress. Halle, on the other hand, is just annoying in her perfection.

You are way older than me, and I understand Photoshop was used, but day-um.