I've already accepted the fact that the fashion industry is around to humiliate me. I accepted this sometime around age twelve, when I realized that overalls, while momentarily in fashion (it was 1994), made everyone look like the Michelin man -- fleshy and lumpy and poking out in the wrong places.

When Madonna's quasi-documentary Truth or Dare came out in 1991, it was still shocking to see a celebrity pretending to fellate a water bottle. That is to say that the genre of celeb-reality had yet to exist.

By: Jessica Grose

I've decided to reinstate this blog. I know I've been terribly remiss about writing, but the problem is that I was treating it like a column, not like a blog. Every time I would sit down to write something, ostensibly for the blog, I'd think "That's STUPID.

I love music movies. Specifically I love the Behind the Music-style narratives where someone dies before their time. My favorites in this rather small canon are Selena and La Bamba. I mean, Selena is mostly notable for its wide angle shots of J.Lo's booty in mid-90s stirrup pants, but it's still worth a gander.

My first trip to the Siren Festival on Coney Island in 2003 was tainted by the fact that I had to meet my then-recent ex-boyfriend there so that he could give me back my jean jacket. I remember finding him, reasonably easily, because even though he had the regulation black-rimmed glasses, at 6'5'' he was a head taller than all the other boys with curly, tousled black hair.