Archive for August, 2008

Olympics in Review

by Cross Woodfield


So what did y’all think of the Olympics this year?  I feel like they were on performance-enhancing drugs…not the athletes, just the Olympics themselves. 


Like in the opening ceremony, the performers kind of looked like robots on speed a little bit.  And the vibes in the stadium, it seemed, were less everyone’s-a-winner-in-Beijing and more 1984-by-George-Orwell, if you know what I mean.


And I don’t mean to be critical, really, but certain things about the Olympics just need to be updated…like the gymnasts maybe should sacrifice their peeled-on sparkly leotards (they better be using SweetSpot!) for See by Chloé jumper.


Maybe they could consider giving up their Claire’s plastic hairclips and neon cotton scrunchies for messy yet styed and secure sexy low buns, with lovely headbands to keep the bangs out of their faces. 


Since when are the Olympics exempt from basic fashion laws?  Huh?


I don’t know, what do you think?  Do the Olympics look too Olympian for their own good?


Also, do you think the gymnasts should update their look, or should we just leave them alone?  After all, anyone can throw on a pair of crocheted boot shorts, but not everyone can hang like Nastia Liukin.


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Hitting the Spots!?

by Cross Woodfield


So apparently gay men use SweetSpot wipettes on their tushies…and I say this not to shock but to inform.


SweetSpot Labs® products seem to hit, in fact, multiple spots.


Some of us use the wipettes to mildly and subtly sanitize our surfaces, like airplane arm rests and tray tables (you know, the ones that come down from the seat in front of you).


Some of us cleanse our under-arms at the office, so we can feel sweet and fresh even at three in the afternoon forty-five minutes from home.


Some women get really enthusiastic and wash their whole bodies (head-to-toe) with SweetSpot, and some give it to their kids to wipe off their hands (less chemical-ish than wet ones).


And heck, if someone tries to attack you, just squirt them with the bidet-in-a-bottle!  No I’m kidding.  The bidet-in-a-bottle should not be wasted on attackers.


But seriously, I’m sure together we could think of some heroic uses of the SweetSpot products.  This is the twenty-first century, people!  Think outside the spot!

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by Cross Woodfield


Okay so a little social commentary never hurt anybody, right?  Here’s what I got for ya.


Is it just me or have straight guys gotten a lot more flirty…with each other? 


The urban dictionary interprets a new wave word, for possibly a new wave concept,  Bromance: the complicated love and affection shared by two straight males.” 


Their example:

“Steve: Ah, Dave!!! I can’t believe you stole this first pressing of Aladdin Sane from your recordstore for me. We were just talking about this the other night.

Dave: No sweat, pal.

Steve: That is some full-on bromance. You’re the man.”


At my summer camp the guy counselors (the cool, arrogant, popular ones) hold hands with each other, caress each other’s faces, and promenade arm-in-arm from the cabins to the dining hall.  A little odd, no?


Not at summer camp.  Then, I was thinking about all these movies that are coming out (Stepbrothers, Pineapple Express) that glorify the bonds between brotherfromanothermothers and feature girls as flirty, eye-candy minor characters.


And as much as my feminist tendencies beg to ridicule the skewed perspective, it’s really fun to watch.


I imagine the same way guys fantasize about two girls making out, girls enjoy watching two guy friends make each other smile.  It’s cute…adorable actually.  It’s my porn.


That, and watching guys dance (see West Side Story for details).

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Extra, Extra, Read All About It!

Two new articles have hit the stands, well one is on the web, but it is press nonetheless.  Beauty writer Sharon gives her reaction on finding the line and the Seattle Times (seen here) gives their readers some COOL trip tips, so you won’t be a stinky person on the plane or trail.

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Alter Egos


by Cross Woodfield


First off I have this theory that we idolize celebrities that remind us of ourselves…in terms of appearance, overall vibe, etc.


Like one of my freckly, poised, and naturally blonde girlfriends is OBSESSED with Gwyneth Paltrow.  She’s totally a Gwyneth.


And in my mind, on a good day, I’m the crazy lovechild of Natalie Portman and Sarah Jessica Parker.  So I search for pictures of them all day long, buy clothes that remind me of SJP, sweep my hair up like NP (in sparkly rhinestone headbands), you get the idea.  I even try to talk like them sometimes and pick up their expressions.


And you know what, I have no shame.  It’s nice to look at beautiful things after a hard day of work, and I think inspiration and self-improvement are healthy.


But sometimes I can’t help but wonder if we’re draining all our admiring energy on the right idols.


We seem to mimic a lot of celebrities that don’t seem very happy.  So many of our faves, our protagonists, the ones we’re rooting for, go to rehab for depression, exhaustion, drugs.  They struggle with decade-long alcohol and eating problems.  They give birth über-young and spoil their babies rotten.


We want so much to dress, walk, dine, act, be like them—the more public, “perfect” versions of ourselves. 


But why? 

If they’re not happy, what do we think we want that they don’t even seem to enjoy having?

Who exactly persuades us we’ll be happy once we’re more like them and less like ourselves?

And why do we believe it?

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College Care Packages a Thing of the Past?


Did you ever get a care package from some mysterious company when you were away at college?  You know, the one that just shows up in your dorm room and you wonder what on earth you ordered?  You open it up cautiously to find granola bars, soup mix and some deodorant and tampons.  I remember getting that for the first time and being a little confused, later to find out that my mom had actually signed me up to receive it. 


Care packages can be ordered from companies like Minimus, but my college actually had a program where letters were secretly sent out to parents of college students asking if they would like to participate.  A little form was signed and sent back, with money I am sure, and then voila somewhere around finals week I was sipping cocoa, popping popcorn while shaving my legs with my newly acquired pink razors.


Have any of you heard of this?  Maybe you would like to try a care package for your latest to leave the nest.  Better yet would be to have SweetSpot Labs products included!  At Minimus you can select packages for men, women, people in the military and the frequent traveler.


Maybe you could be the first to contact your students college and get them started.  Won’t your kids be surprised!



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I’d Like to Walk a Miley in Her Shoes


by Cross Woodfield


Ok I am of two minds.


Everyone is going NUTS over the February 2008 Vanity Fair shoot with Papa and Baby Montana and her bare back in a blanket.


At first I thought, everyone is totally overreacting.  She could be wearing a blanket-like dress for all they know!


And then, I turned.  She could be wearing a blanket-like dress, but she’s not.  And she’s fifteen for goodness’ sake.  I mean, she’s really a kid and I think it’s weird that she’s being sexualized by a bunch of cultured intellectual types.


Why?  Why does our society feel the need to sexualize everything in order to sell it?


Are we so under-sexed that sex is the only thing that arouses us enough into buying a product?


There was no other way they could have gone with the Miley shoot?

They couldn’t have waited til she was seventeen or eighteen or twenty-five?


On second thought, I suppose I am really of one mind.


I love Vanity Fair, but that picture is just plain creepy.


What do you think?

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