Vanessa Richmond

'I'm Pretty. You're Ugly. Buy This' -- Why Fashion Magazines Are on the Decline

Lady mags are in trouble. Usually, the mags gorge on ads for their September issues, often inches thick, and by far the biggest of the year. The fall issues' fat revenues, bursting at the seams, usually carry them through the lean months after Christmas. But plummeting ad sales combined with lower circulation rates mean quite a few won't have enough reserves to make it through the hibernation.

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Is Angelina Jolie the Next Feminist Icon?

"Oprah Winfrey is dead. Long live Angelina Jolie," trumpeted one paper last week. In this year's Forbes' rankings, kind of like the Stanley Cup of celebrity competitions, Jolie deposed Winfrey's long reign as monarch of fame. She whooped some serious head-of-state heinie too: Obama was the top-ranked head of state, but with his paltry $2 million annual salary, he came 49th.

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Breeding Envy: Do You Need to be a Millionaire to Have Kids?

"Unlike the rest of us, sex lies and scandal never take a vacation, instead they take the Long Island Expressway and head east to the Hamptons," says the narrator on the season two opener of Gossip Girl. But unlike in Gossip Girl, many people are taking a permanent vacation from breeding, and the show provides one clue as to why.

As I look around at my friends who have adorable spawn, what strikes me is what a good job they're doing, but also how they're consumed by an ever-increasing list of things they should be but aren't doing and buying for their kids. It's a list that no one but those with abundant time and money can even hope to stay on top of -- like, say, Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie. If you don't want to join 'em, you can beat 'em by shunning mainstream values and expectations, but then you run the risk of being called a bad parent, possibly the worst slur there is.

I think it's one of the main reasons that breeding is in danger of becoming a spectator sport for the middle class. In the U.S., the birth rate is still high enough to replace the population at 2.09 babies per woman, but in Canada, it's at 1.53 and falling. And in both countries, the middle class is playing well below the average.

Silver spoons mandatory

Until the 1970s, says Nathanael Lauster, a professor of sociology at UBC, the expectations for what was required to be a good parent were that neither parent was still attending high school, that they had their own household (which just means they no longer lived with their parents, though renting or owning were equally OK, as was living in an apartment or house), that the man was employed and that his income was enough to provide for a stay-at-home mother (rarely inconceivable, ahem). And if you could meet those expectations, you were qualified.

Now, "we have defined upward the kind of staging required to be a parent; it's increasingly tied to affluence," says Lauster. Potential parents need to be able to not only afford daycare (which in Vancouver is around $1200 a month, if you can get a place) or a nanny, expensive kid gear like strollers and fashionable baby clothes and the keys to their own house. There's a growing expectation that one parent will take a year off work, and given the cost of living and housing, that means an even higher level of affluence is required. "Until you can afford this list of things, you're not ready," says Lauster, which means more people put off parenting until later or forever. And, if you do have kids, the list of expectations continues to grow with them.

So it's no wonder that viewers are glued to Gossip Girl. In addition to having the most compelling (kind-hearted) bitch on TV, some of the best writing around, fantastically soapy drama, perfect half-sincere and half-satirical tone and great music, Gossip Girl epitomizes the new ÃƒÂ¼ber-consumerist kid-raising ideal.

The narrative, according to Lauster, is that as a parent, your job is to help your kids in every way, and money is essential to doing that. In the season two opener, Jenny Humphries, who comes from the wrong side of the bridge (a large, loft apartment in Brooklyn), has an internship with a prominent fashion designer (all the rich kids bypass Manhattan's internships, spending the summer in Europe and the Hamptons). That designer doesn't even remember her name and brushes off Jenny's attempt to show her one of Jenny's own designs. So she calls on her friend to take her to the very exclusive White Party in the Hamptons, to which the designer also has an invite. After that, the designer calls her by name and looks her in the eye. Message: hard work and talent is a dime a dozen; respect and opportunity are pricey.

Believe it or not, this is a shift for teen soaps. On Beverly Hills 90210, which started in 1990, the kids were from the wealthiest zip code in the U.S., but went to public school, wore cringe-worthy '90s fashion like any other North American kid (including me), and generally acted like "normal" kids. Message: all kids are the same; some just live in bigger houses. (This certainly isn't the cultural backdrop of the new 90210 spinoff that premiered last night.

In The O.C., which started in 2003, and featured kids in a very expensive suburb of L.A., the kids went to private school but didn't wear uniforms. Some of the kids were into designer clothes, while others who wore jeans and sneakers and were considered equally cool: it was just about personal preference. Seth Cohen (played by Adam Brody) got into an Ivy League university, and there was never a discussion of whether the family would have to sell their house to pay for it, but everyone was equally impressed by his foray into comic book writing. And his family took in a kid from the wrong side of the tracks and let him live in the pool house. Message: money can help you help your normal kids.

Complex Trysts and Lots of Sex

In Gossip Girl, the kids are gorgeous and have their own apartments, drivers, closets full of couture and reservations at Manhattan's most exclusive restaurants. They throw costume balls to which they wear gorgeous clothes and drink martinis and in which no parent is present. They have complex trysts and lots of sex. It's Sex and the City without the whining, wrinkles or work -- which helps explain its big non-teen audience -- and money is key to all of it. As Leighton Meester, who plays charming but eviscerating bitch Blair Waldorf, put it in a recent interview, "I think that Blair is what a lot of people wish they could be." Message: without money, you're nothing.

But very interestingly, the show also picks up on what Lauster says is the current counter-narrative -- good parenting takes money, but rich people make lousy parents. In this show, they are absent, neglectful and selfish (and are all about 35, but that's another story). And most of the kids shake their heads and sigh when they talk about their lame parents' silly mistakes, fourth marriages and loveless lives -- poor, sweet dears, they just get it so wrong.

In TV World, Middle-Class is Radical

The only good parent on the show is the bohemian, middle class, single dad. Rufus Humphrey (played by Matthew Settle) knows about his kids' school and personal lives and gives excellent advice, but doesn't pry or try to be their friend. He sets limits and even grounds them, but is always there for them and even cooks every meal. On the second season's opener, when he's on tour with his band, he calls both kids every day; whereas, we don't even see the other kids' parents. We're never told how he procures "the best" for his kids -- i.e. private school and access to the privileged world. But maybe it's just that he's such a good dad, he also knows magic. Which is ironic, because in this breeding environment, Rufus Humphries -- with his middle class parenting values -- is exactly the kind of guy who's not doing the ultimate human magic trick of reproducing himself.

Angelina and Brad Give Birth to $11 Million Twins

Although the babies are mere days old, there's a price tag on their bald, wrinkly, blind-ish little heads: $11 million for photos of the pair. And some say it could go as high as $20 million before the bidding war is done.

Back in 1989, the National Enquirer paid $100,000 for photos of Lisa Marie Presley's baby. "At the time, I thought it was outrageous. Now it's chump change," said executive editor Barry Levine.

Indeed, Christina Aguilera reportedly got $1.5 million in February for shots of her newborn, Max. And People shelled out a whopping $6 million to Jennifer Lopez and Marc Anthony for the first photos of new twins Max and Emme. But the photos of Knox Leon and Vivienne Marcheline Jolie-Pitt would be the highest priced in history.

Interestingly, the Jolie-Pitts reportedly received several million dollars from People magazine for the first shots of Shiloh Nouvel (the actual figure was never made public), but not for the first shots of their adopted kids.

So why do readers want to see the genetic spawn of people who memorize other people's words for a living?

Business theory, evolutionary psychology and cultural politics might suggest why. Here are 10 theories:

1. Show me the money

"The $11 figure just shows you how big the financial component is," says Jake Halpern, the author of Fame Junkies: The Hidden Truths Behind America's Favorite Addiction.

He says the Washington Post still lives off the Watergate story. And even though first shots of the Jolie-Pitt twins don't have that kind of socially redeeming value, they add to the tabloid's cred. "Even if they don't make the money back with that story specifically, they get the cache of having the inside scoop."

2. Voracious voyeurism

"Celebrities have gradually ceded almost every vestige of their privacy" over the last 30 years, says Halpern. "There is very little that the world doesn't see anymore. Newborn baby photos were one of those few things. They're the inner sanctum of private life, and "because these private moments are so incredibly rare, they have become an enormous commodity."

"It stands to reason in a world in which people pay top dollar for intimacy, to get a shot of holy of holies," is worth a lot. "It's about wanting to get as far into these people's lives as possible: voracious voyeurism is driving this."

3. No business like 'show' business

Angelina Jolie herself said, "In my father's generation, the product was 80 per cent of what you were putting into the world, and your personal life was 20 per cent." She says now it's the opposite.

What's interesting about the Telegraph's video clip of the pregnant Jolie with Pitt is their behavior. I don't know about you, but I don't tend to pose like this when I go out for dinner with my boyfriend. But that's their life: they're at work together.

So another way to look at Jolie's comment is that she knows 80 per cent of her pay cheque indirectly comes from marketing her private life.

And let's be honest -- it's not just tabloids auctioning off the newborns as the Jolie-Pitts innocently stand by. It's Jolie and Pitt's "people" negotiating these deals so that they get the most control, exposure and money.

Even if they give all the money away to charity the publicity that comes from such a gesture is worth more than money-in-hand. And for them, $11 million isn't much -- as one friend of mine said, "if the Jolie-Pitts give away $10 million, that's like me giving away $500."

It's also because they're negotiating for so much, and the tabs are paying so much, that this is a big story, a 38-year-old marketing exec friend of mind pointed out. The higher the price goes, the more it's sensational, the more audiences want to tune in.

4. Belongingness theory

But business theories don't entirely explain why audiences are interested in the intimate lives of strangers at all. And really, that's weird.

"Some research psychologists have come to believe the need to belong is every bit as urgent as the need for food and shelter -- the desire to belong is actually humankind's driving force," explains Halpern in Fame Junkies. He says some psychologists think the primal yearning for social acceptance trumps sexuality.

"Humans who formed groups in ancient times increased their chances of survival and reproduction," so evolution created a kind of internal mechanism that makes us stressed when we're isolated and stimulates the production of opioids -- chemicals in the brain that make us feel pleasure -- when we have social relationships.

Scientists in the 1950s found that people form "para-social" relationships with people on TV, with similar benefits as "face-to-face" relationships. And now, with the celebrity "journalism" industry, we know as much about the real lives of actors as the characters they play, which brings them that much closer to the audience "friends."

Yale political scientist Robert Lane notes that the number of people who described themselves as "lonely" has more than quadrupled in the last few decades. And all of this suggests that many people follow the stories of the Jolie-Pitts because evolution and current living conditions program them to.

5. Prestige theory

Then there's Prestige Theory, which argues it's been evolutionarily advantageous for human beings to identify prestigious people and befriend them. Those people would gain skills and also protection. "In ancient times the disciple of a successful hunter stood a better chance of surviving, having children, and then feeding them," writes Halpern.

All of this goes wrong when it comes to celebrities of course. When we see them on TV and in magazines, "we sense that they are at the centre of a truly enormous entourage, so our conditioned 'posse response' is activated and we gravitate towards them without really gaining anything."

6. Breeder envy

Babies are currently elusive to many 30-something, career-oriented women. In fact, Canada has the lowest fertility rate in the developed world, especially among women of Jolie's age and demographic.

This trend is reflected in the celeb world: it's not unusual to see young women having babies -- like Nicole Ritchie, Brittney Spears, Jamie-Lynn Spears, Ashley Simpson. Nor, now, to see 40-ish women who are fully established in their careers having babies -- like Julia Roberts, Cate Blanchett, Naomi Watts.

But to be 33, at the peak of your career and breeding is unusual. My childless, 30-something, career-driven women friends watch Jolie's case, more than other celeb-mothers', with both curiosity and envy.

7. Brangelina, now new and improved!

Called the world's most famous children even before they were born, Vivienne Marcheline and her brother Knox Leon, arrived into a world of scrutiny and tight security: the ultimate aristo-brats. These two will be dominating the image-sphere for the next 80 years, and it's the first time we'll see them.

8. It's a bird, it's a plane

Do they deserve that future fame? "The public feels an unjustified familiarity with them," said a 42-year-old friend of mine, who's an elementary school principal and artist, "but they're abnormally good looking and even scandalous," so they're not "friends like Oprah but distant, ultra-human-acquaintances that are out of reach." People are curious, she argues, because they wonder if the twins are super-humanly-gorgeous from birth, which would, of course, help to justify the increasing power of the celebrity machine.

9. Stars: they're just like us

Or not. The same friend says if those super-human babies are actually ordinary "prize-fighter-like and bald," there'll be a pleasant element of "schadenfreude." Which also makes it enjoyable to see them.

10. Just another freak show

"It's just not normal," said my 32-year-old friend who is the mother of a one-year-old. "My one child is more than fulfilling enough. It's like Angelina is a collector, like she's obsessed with more, more, more.

"It's another way for her to be idolized -- you get a big rush from a baby who is totally dependent on you and loves you."

She wants to see the pictures of "weird" people who have an insatiable lust for dollars, babies and attention.

Even as Celebrities, Women Face a Double Standard

The tabloids paint Britney Spears' as a neglectful, deranged, drug-addicted mother who frequently neglects and even endangers her children, and whose partying ways are responsible for her demise. The video and images of Amy Winehouse smoking crack cocaine have been widely circulated, along with a flurry of recent articles alleging that her frequent drug use is to blame for the decline of her health -- including emphysema and her stark emaciation.

But a video of Heath Ledger hanging out at a drug-fueled party before his death didn't make it to air on Entertainment Tonight, nor appear elsewhere. New York coroners ruled that Ledger's recent death was due to an accidental overdose of prescription medication, with few media outlets even casting other aspersions. And when Owen Wilson was hospitalized last year after an apparent suicide attempt, not only did his plight inspire only one cover story in US Weekly, but news coverage was almost entirely sympathetic and respectful, often citing psychiatrists' explanations of the intricacies of mental illness and depression.

Sure, plenty of male stars get excoriated by the media -- Mel Gibson to name one. But overwhelmingly, as a recent New York Times article alleges, "Men who fall from grace are treated with gravity and distance, while women in similar circumstances are objects of derision, titillation and black comedy."

Britney's tears and cautionary tales

Last week a conference called Going Cheap? Female celebrity in the tabloid, reality and scandal genres, held at the University of East Anglia in the U.K., attempted to get to the bottom of this paradox and "our" fascination with self-destructive female celebrites. Papers included Britney's tears: The abject female celebrity in post-emotional society and Hooker, victim and/or doormat: Lindsay Lohan and the culture of celebrity notoriety, among others.

Unsurprisingly, some celebrity journalists disagreed with the symposium's premise, including Gordon Smart, who edits The Sun. He told the BBC that the preponderance of female stars is purely coincidence. "At the moment there just happens to be cluster of female celebrities that are going through difficult times."

But Diane Negra, a professor of film and television studies at the host university, said the coverage of women is definitely more judgmental than the coverage of men. And that while a media story about a drug-addicted man is likely to focus on or even celebrate his expected return (as with Robert Downey Jr.'s recent Iron Man performance) coverage of female celebs is more likely to focus on their (self-inflicted) demise and act as "cautionary tales."

"We seem to have a lot more fixed ideas about what women's lives should be like than we do of men," she said.

Women dare not have it all

Why? "When we use female celebrities this way, we see them failing and struggling, they serve as proof that for women the work-life balance is impossible. Can you have it all? The answer these stories give again and again is 'absolutely not.'"

In the recent New York Times piece, several tabloid editors agreed they handle female celebrities differently but said the reason is due to readership, not sexism. US Weekly's readership is 70 per cent female, and People's is over 90 per cent.

Janice Min, the editor-in-chief of US Weekly, said that putting a solo man on the cover is "cover death. Women don't want to read about men unless it's through another woman: a marriage, a baby, a breakup."

So the only coverage of Ledger's death focused on how his estranged wife and child were coping, not on any of his history. And with Owen Wilson, much of the coverage focused on Kate Hudson -- whether their recent breakup was to blame for his troubles, and how she was reacting.

I hate you because you're famous

The conference touched on another reason for increasing negative tone: public concern about the growing number of celebrities who are famous simply for being famous, like Paris Hilton or the stars of reality TV shows.

Cary Cooper, a professor of psychology and health at Lancaster University in England, said readers and viewers want to see celebrities struggle because "it makes people feel good." Celebrities "look like they lead a golden life, and yet it doesn't make them happy. So in a way it justifies our humdrum existence."

But while readership demographics explain why there's more coverage of bad girls than bad boys, and public resentment about rich but talentless celebs explains why much coverage generally is negative in tone, those two factors don't entirely explain why the media is more critical of ailing female celebs than of male ones.

Lightning rods for sexism?

Negra has one more theory, that the "massive coverage these women draw is only a little bit about themselves...These women operate as lightning rods for a lot of other concerns."

And for a lot of negative sentiment about women, generally.

"Urgh, I'd never thought about that, but it's true," a 38 year old female friend groaned when I told her about the conference's premise.

"I hate to admit it," said the same friend, one of the most positive, enthusiastic people I know, "but I do it. I cut down other women." Two other friends chimed in and agreed they do it too.

A 12-year-old boy, also sitting at the table, said that the girls in his class are mean to each other. "They're always saying other girls are fat. And 'I hate her, I don't like her.'"

A few years ago, a 60-year-old mother of two sons told me she was so glad she'd had boys because "girls are all so prissy and frilly and catty. Yuck."

I hate you because I hate myself

An unrelated study, released this week, showed that glaring sexism is easy to brush off, but subtle sexism leads to self-criticism, self-loathing and poor performance on tests.

Researchers set up a mock job interview in which women were asked sexist questions, then all were told they didn't get the job. Half the women were told the reason was that they were women -- and their self-esteem remained intact. The other half were told they didn't get the job because they'd given wrong answers, and subsequently experienced low self-image and poorer performance on IQ and other tests.

Hasn't everyone heard somewhere that people who bully and criticize others are ones who have low self esteem themselves?

So isn't it possible that the increasing appetite for tabloid stories that attack other women could actually be because those female readers are experiencing more subtle sexism and therefore self-loathing?

The more that happens, the more it does, apparently. Rebecca Roy, a psychotherapist who has several clients in the entertainment industry, was quoted saying the double standard in public treatment of bad girls and bad boys can actually intensify the destructive behavior of those female stars, pushing them to further depths of substance abuse and erratic behavior.

So is the solution for me to learn to love Britney and Lindsay?

Rise of the Aristo-Brats

So You Think You Can Dance, the underdog but odds-on-favourite in the race to be America's Next Top Reality Show, gets going for real tonight. If you've been watching for the last few weeks, you've seen hundreds of ugly ducklings and a few swans audition, all with stardust in their eyes.

Nigel Lythgoe, a co-producer and judge, told them last week, in fact, that if they didn't want to be stars, they should get off the stage. They all stayed put. Because that's what it and other star-making TV shows are about -- achieving the American Dream through the most meritocratic contest around.

But though I have been glued to the box since its first season, I have seen no previous winners of the show anywhere after. And this is true of the other shows; I have only seen anything of three winners of American Idol -- ones who have actually gone on to have songs on the charts. And only Adrianne Curry, the first season winner of America's Next Top Model, has had even moderate career success (if Playboy counts as such).

Interesting, then, that despite a few dips in Idol's ratings last season, these are among the most popular shows on TV, when some, like Radar Magazine, have just declared the meritocracy officially dead.

They shall inherit the glory

Forget talent and hard work as the route to fame and power. In "Attack of the Aristo-Brats!," Radar welcomes readers to the new age of nepotism saying, "children of the rich and famous are taking over the world," and "an aristocratic chill is gripping the nation as never before."

Cruz Beckham's impromptu breakdance at a Spice Girls' concert at Madison Garden got more screams from the 15,000 audience members and more media chatter about future career success than the winners of So You Think You Can Dance enjoy. Miley Cyrus is already a more famous singer (and whatever else she is), at 15, than any of the Idol winners can hope to be. And as far as modeling goes, Riley Keough (Elvis' granddaughter), Frances Cobain Bean, and Keith Richards' daughters Theodora and Alexandra, among others, are appearing in shows and glossy ads for designers like Dior. "Indeed, with each new fashion season, another genetically advantaged aristo-brat elbows some anonymous Lithuanian bombshell out of the way."

Given the obsession with corporate branding, the phenomenon of second-generation celebrity should come as no surprise, Radar argues. "Increasingly, children are just brand extensions in person form -- human sequels, easier to green-light than untested projects." When Maddox Jolie-Pitt decides to make his first film, studios will likely outbid each other for it (very similar to what local film students experience, I hear) because regardless of whether it's good or terrible, audience members will pay to find out. His is a household name and story, and many want to find out the next chapter in the tale.

Look no further than the current A-list crop in Hollywood to see where last name gets you. Some are talented, some not, but all start on the top floor: there's Gwynneth Paltrow, Angelina Jolie, Jennifer Anniston, Kate Hudson, Tory Spelling, Nicole Ritchie, Paris Hilton and Kim Kardashian to name a few of the royal daughters.

And the next generation proves to be even bigger -- already getting attention, contracts and tabloid coverage as young as the age of three: Lourdes Ciccone Leon (Madonna's daughter), Bindi Irwin (daughter of late croc hunter, Steve Irwin), Ally Hilfiger, Ivanka Trump, and even Rumer "Potato Head" Willis. They're models, singers, artists, talk show hosts, novelists, actors and talentless but tabloid-hogging stars.

Meritlesstocracy

MTV's new show, Rock the Cradle, is an American Idol-style competition show starring only the children of famous musicians. Most aren't great. But even so, they'll likely easily surpass their non-aristo-brat, non-celebreality TV show brethren -- like the winners of American Idol -- in contracts and fame.

And, of course, there's also a new episode of Living Lohan on tonight -- a show that follows Dina Lohan as she tries to make Ali into the star Lindsay is (though with how well Lindsay's doing lately, as a result, it's a wonder the show doesn't feature the intervention of child authorities). Ali Lohan is already in the tabs and will probably grace screens, but hopefully not rehab centres, soon.

Because the meritlesstocracy is becoming so blatant in Hollywood -- and elsewhere like the White House -- people are starting to scratch their heads. Recently hosting Kim Kardashian on The View, Barbara Walters tried to get her to explain what's been going on in the last decade, culturally, that could make someone like Kardashian a household name. "Why are you famous?" she demanded, perplexed, furrowing (well, kind of). Then, unsatisfied by the answer, "But what do you do?" Maybe Walters should invite Dubya on next week for the same grilling.

Sure, a hand up from mom or dad is nothing new -- we all want the best for the people we love. What are we going to do -- institute a law where kids aren't allowed to go into the same professions as their parents?

And spawn do have some genuine advantages; athletically, it's clear that super-genes are real (see Peyton and Eli Manning). And artistically or politically or otherwise, if you grow up with mentors and lessons and practice, and hear adults talk shop at the dinner table, you clearly do have a leg up over others who start the process a couple of decades later.

Obama to the rescue?

But it's the power of the powerful to open doors and trade on favours that clearly is accelerating a lot of young careers in Hollywood these days.

As it has in Washington, and other centres of political power. Which brings us to another refreshing aspect of the Obama moment. Perhaps, as some have claimed, the fact that he is more popular than the aristo-brat Bush, and defeated the royal Clintons, signals a cultural sea change. Having won the Democratic Idol contest with grit, talent and hard work, many expect the third black American senator to resuscitate the ailing American Dream.

I tried that on a friend, who said Obama can't revive a meritocracy that never existed. The celebretocracy, in one form of another, has always the main show. But despite that, some producers manage to sell us the idea of hope.

So tonight I'll be watching, riveted, as 20 dancers try to become stars in their own eyes -- if no one else's.

What Does the Decay of Journalism Have to Do with My Huge Appetite for Celebrity Gossip?

"You're the problem," a male friend told me sternly a few weeks ago. I'm why the rich are getting richer and poor are getting poorer, why political apathy abounds, why environmental catastrophe looms. Because I, and people like me, read pop culture stories -- celebrity ones in particular. And because that's what more and more media are covering instead of what they "should" be (i.e. politics, the economy and international affairs). Hence, society is going to hell in a hand basket.

His criticism is equivalent to what gets posted in the comments sections of The Tyee and other news sites after almost any pop culture story. After blogging celeb Emily Gould's article "Exposed" ran in this weekend's New York Times Magazine (about the emotional trauma she experienced as a result of sharing too much of her and her friends' and boyfriends' lives online) many comments were variations on these ones: "Why is this important to me???????" and "I expect more from the New York Times."

Sure, it's true that there's no shortage of real, crucial issues right now. And I do read "serious" stories about them every day. But I am proud to say my reading diet includes far more stories that are considered to be the journalistic equivalent of genetically modified, non-organic candy corn.

I'm hardly alone. The readership numbers for pop culture stories -- which I count as celebrity, social trend, TV, music and film pieces in both blogs and traditional media -- are skyrocketing as readership of traditional news and newspapers is on the decline.

Talk among yourselves

It's not just democracy -- readers voting with their clicks -- that has convinced me about pop culture's worth. I actually think that much maligned celebrity "gossip" pieces can provide a rich forum for values debates. So I'm proud to say I know as much about the Greek drama of celebrity life as I do about the sub prime crisis or about the rising cost of oil. And I consider them to be not candy, but flavorful parts of the main course.

That's because pop culture journalism is like a misunderstood, blonde friend who seems air headed but actually gets the best marks in school, is the most fun to hang out with and the liveliest to talk to. That New York Times article by Emily Gould had 1212 comments posted after it by noon on Monday (before comments were closed). The most popular political op-ed column of the day had 102. That's not unusual.

And that pattern plays out in the real world, in my experience. Last week, at a dinner with some friends, I mentioned a story I'd read about peak oil and the impacts on flying. "Oh yeah?" said one smart, well-read friend. Then she told us about a recent flight she'd taken where the airline had lost her luggage. Later, I mentioned a story I'd read that listed "hippy-crite" celebs -- ones who say they're concerned about the environment but whose actions suggest otherwise. John Travolta recently said "everyone can do their bit" when it comes to global warming, but travels in his 150-passenger jet -- alone. Madonna headlined Al Gore's Live Earth concert in London but has $2 million invested in mining and oil exploration companies. Brad Pitt spearheads a green reconstruction project in the Hurricane Katrina-stricken Lower 9th Ward of New Orleans -- but flies in his private jet to and from meetings there.

The conversation about the environment, policy and personal responsibility lasted most of the evening. What are the worst environmental offenses? What's inexcusable and what's unavoidable? What should governments be doing and what's up to the individual?

Even the Emily Gould article is about the costs, benefits and limits of free speech, about censorship and privacy, about ethics in journalism. Did she go too far? What is too far? That's what people talk about.

Fame, fortune, families

Or how about this week's reports that Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt bought a $60 million chateau in Provence, France: the perfect spot for Jolie to give birth to twins in a few months. Mention Canada's declining fertility rate or the fact that the housing affordability crisis means many middle class Canadians are finding breeding just too expensive and you'll get a few polite nods. But mention Brangelina's recent purchase, along with the fact that each of their children has a personal nanny, or that Angelina Jolie says she wants three more kids (becoming this generation's Mia Farrow), and people shout over each other to weigh in. People talk about the cost of children and the consumerism around it. Some say it's wrong for a mother of four young kids to star in three movies this year -- or to constantly uproot the kids to various houses and schools around the world as she does so.

To add to that, this week Jenna Jameson said that, inspired by Angelina Jolie, she's going to stay unmarried and "go for the babies." And Kirsten Davis, also inspired by Jolie, has said she might remain single but adopt a baby. In response to these stories, people I know talk about the value of marriage, about the ethics of having children vs. adoption in an overpopulated world, about the difficulty of being a single parent, about a woman's right to choose when she has kids and how, about childcare and about men's role in raising kids.

On the other hand, there's Arianna Huffington's blog post "unmasking" John McCain's record on reproductive rights. In short, he has a 25 year record of voting against a woman's right to choose, his website says he's against Roe vs. Wade, against insurance companies covering birth control, and only believes in abstinence-only education. This week, McCain appeared on Ellen and said that he wishes her well, but is against the fact that she's now legally allowed to marry her partner, Portia de Rossi, in California this summer. Pretty similar discussions happen as a result of discussing Jolie's choices and McCain's positions -- but I bet more people know about Jolie and more people discuss fertility, reproductive rights and marriage as a result.

Trashy biases

I mention this to people who doubt the complexity of the values debate spurred by celebrities, and they don't tend to believe me. But the same or even more heated arguments transpire -- verbally and in the comments sections of news sites and blogs -- than political ones between insider politicos with brand name degrees. The difference is, pop culture readers accept that news readers read news, but not the other way around.

In fact, most of the people who are critical of my reading tendencies would be horrified to hear that they're being sexist or elitist -- but that's often the case. One friend who is a news addict (an admirable habit), said every woman he knows reads celebrity trash, and that every time he sees a tabloid around -- at home or work -- he throws it in the garbage where it belongs. He acknowledges men may read about sports, but says celebrities are far worse, and thinks women are slaves to powerful media companies (gosh). Another friend said that with two university degrees, I'm capable of understanding the news (read: unlike some people) so don't need to spend my time on trash. He meant well, but doesn't see his own bias.

Talking about patterns in pop culture is at least as useful a vehicle for social criticism than pure politics. It is politics. It's also democratic. Pop culture is popular not because it's dumb, but because it's usually about the crucial questions of life and society, told with interesting characters and a constantly updating, suspenseful storyline. And just like with Emily Gould's piece, pop culture pieces tend to get the big readership.

The Wright approach

Do I think all celebrity stories are valid and true? Well, I don't tend to trust anything with unnamed sources -- in news or pop culture. Do I think more media sites will start to publish only high readership pieces and ignore the news? Well, if they do, they'll lack credibility and lose readers who want a balanced diet. And don't tell me that I can't sample tabloid journalism without becoming its dupe. Some critical distance is the best stance when imbibing any form of journalism, including celebrity soap operas.

Do I think the current methods of gathering celeb news are OK? I have to admit, that like my other omnivorous eating habits, I eat meat but don't actually kill the animal myself. I've never stalked a celebrity or hung out with the paparazzi and don't plan to. In fact, I find the idea distasteful and would prefer that there were more ethical standards in place. There's more than enough fodder for discussion from what celebs say themselves on talk shows, statements, media conferences and premieres.

And as Lara Cohen, the news director at Us Weekly pointed out in her piece "Who Are You Calling a Tabloid?" a few weeks ago, political writers aren't exactly angelic. "To say the news media's coverage of Reverend Wright has been exhaustive is like saying that Us was mildly interested in Brad Pitt's split from Jennifer Aniston. The true hallmark of sensationalized journalism is ginning up controversy to drive sales. Wright's outbursts were the mainstream media's equivalent of Tom Cruise jumping on Oprah's couch -- a train wreck no one could turn away from. And so they milked it, regardless of the impact on the very race they were supposedly covering objectively."

At least I know what I'm eating.

Is Feminism Compatible with the Kitchen?

"I don't cook. So I made my eat-in kitchen a fabulous walk-in closet," announces a young, attractive woman in the newest Citibank ad.

It's part of a $93 million campaign called "Tell your story," that's appearing in print, magazine, TV and online.

"My name is Grace and I live in a small apartment in a big city," the ad continues. "And since I enjoy a day of shopping far more than, say, cooking, I decided to do a bit of home remodeling. So with my Citi card in hand, I set out to get some closet organizers. I bought a shoe rack for the oven, sweater boxes for the lower cupboards and some 12-inch baskets for handbags up above. I saved room for plates, glasses and silverware. And one large drawer stuffed with take-out menus."

Citibank is so confident that women will identify with "Grace's" sentiment, they're even running the ad in February's issue of Gourmet Magazine.

Their assumption, I guess, is that even a good number of Gourmet's readers (who are mostly women) don't actually cook; they're just sampling the food porn.

This idea -- that liberated women don't prepare food -- isn't one that Citibank just cooked up. In fact, as one female friend of mine quickly pointed out, it's still part of the Sex and the City cultural hangover. Carrie Bradshaw, of course, famously used her oven as a shoe cupboard far before Grace, as a kind of feminist triumph: she likes sex and (therefore) doesn't like to cook. Shopping, friends and men sustained her instead, along with the occasional restaurant meal.

Last of a breed?

But since Sex, the phenomenon has heated up. Recently, I talked to a middle-aged male film director about a dinner he had just cooked for friends. When I subsequently told him about a meal I'd made, he raised his eyebrows. "I don't know a single other woman who cooks -- or at least admits to it in public!" he exclaimed. "You're like a relic!" His male friends all cook, he said. But no women of his generation or younger that he knows prepares food.

Why? In short, men come across as evolved, sexy and creative when they mix things up in the kitchen. But women seem stuck in Leave-it-to-Beaver-land when they step in front of the stove: domestic suckers who aren't paying enough attention to their ambition or their libidos. They're not third wave feminists, embracing women's traditional skills or sexy, busy people who make time for health and family, but women who need a good empowerment talk.

I spoke to a few of my other female friends about it. "I never had anything in the cupboards before I had kids," one friend, a professional singer, told me proudly. "I was out having fun."

"I can't even boil water," another told me, smiling. "If my husband is away, I just eat cereal or get take out." She's never been taught to cook and has no desire to learn. Plus, her husband's dad was a chef, and he loves to cook elaborate meals.

"I put food on the table for the kids every day or whatever, but my partner does the fancier cooking for guests," said another. "It's easier than getting him to help with anything else around the house -- he knows he'll get lots of kudos for being the chef, but none for cleaning the toilet."

Cooking as spectator sport

So actually, two things are happening. One is that some women aren't cooking at all because they see it as low status or unnecessary. And sure, women have been unfairly stuck with the brunt of domestic labor for a long time in a culture that has deemed it lower status than, say, working in an office. Stepping away from the hearth is a form of rebellion and liberation and a way to gain more cultural status, which are both motivations I can sympathize with (even though I think they're both ultimately the opposite of liberated and healthy -- more on that later).

And the other is that many women do the daily food prep but don't count that as "real" cooking. For this, I blame the rise of foodie culture. There are plenty of shows on the Food Network that feature quick and easy meals. Like from one of my favorite celeb cooks -- Nigella Lawson -- in which, in the promo, she claims doing her hair and putting on lipstick takes more time than making the entrÃƒÂ©e.

But it's clear this type of cooking is very different from real cooking -- i.e. highly fetishized, specialized, time consuming, expensive chef-ing, mostly done by men, both in restaurants and at home, and often involving blow torches. It's really a spectator sport, but it's somehow become "cooking."

Michael Pollan's latest social recipe

A friend of mine, who is a chef, spent two weeks making a meal for his wife for her birthday. It was the best meal she's tasted.

But the meals they put on the table every day for themselves and their four-year old daughter are also real meals and actually more important socially, culturally and health-wise, says Michael Pollan in his new book, In Defense of Food.

In The Omnivore's Dilemma, Pollan unearthed the rot in the food industry, and left many people scared to eat. Then, in an article for the New York Times Magazine a year ago, "Unhappy Meals," he caused an even greater cultural revolution with the following seven words: "Eat food. Not too much. Mostly plants."

In his recent book, which followed from that magazine piece, he advocated a different way of approaching food. "You would not have bought this book and read this far into it if your food culture was intact and healthy," he writes in the book. "Nor would you eat substances like Go-Gurt, eat them on the run or eat them at mealtimes that are so out of sync with friends and relatives that the real family dinner is an endangered ritual."

He advocates eating local, organic food, even at the risk of elitism. He says to buy fresh, local organic food (which is more expensive) but eat less of it, and you'll still be ahead financially. He says eating at home is better than eating out. And that eating simple food together is the highest form of health and happiness.

Hand me that spatula

"We have more choices now than we've ever had," Pollan says in a recent interview, "An Omnivore Defends Real Food." "There is organic food at Wal-Mart. The big challenge is that you do have to cook. A lot of us are intimidated by cooking today. We watch cooking shows on TV but we cook very little. We're turning cooking into a spectator sport. This process of outsourcing our food preparation to large corporations, which is what we've been doing the last 50 years, is a big part of our problem. We're seduced by convenience. You're going to have to put a little more time and effort into preparing your food. I'm trying to get across how pleasurable that can be. It needn't be a chore. It can be incredibly rewarding to move food closer to the center of your life."

Who knew liberation would be found in a kitchen cupboard full of produce, not purses?

In fact, anyone who's ever cooked will tell you the act of preparing food makes you more powerful and sexy. The old saying, that a way to a man's heart is through his stomach, always seems to hold up for both genders in my experience. Who can resist a warm hearth as shelter from storms of all kinds? And as for a spatula making a woman into a relic, it's all about the glint in the eye.

From Smut to Adult Diapers: The Young Novelist's Life

With writers such as Zadie Smith and Kiran Desai snapping up book prizes and moving heaps of copy, the young novelist's life can seem as glamorous as Paris Hilton's, just a tad smarter. But the reality for most trying to break into the trade is more long hours on outdated laptops than it is million dollar checks and cocktail receptions.

So why do they do it?

On a recent Thursday, we gathered six young B.C. novelists and asked them just that. Amidst the dingy but lively Legion on Vancouver's hip Main Street, Kevin Chong, Steven Galloway, Anne Stone, Elaine Corden, Michelle Kim and Nathan Sellyn spoke about writing degrees, writing porn and how, despite rain and rents and often rotten pay, B.C. has become a hotbed for Canadian up and comers.

On why B.C. is a hotbed:

Michelle Kim: "I lived in London for a while and worked at the books department at the BBC and brought in a bunch of books by young Canadian novelists like Sheila Heti and Michael Winter, and they just were totally blown away. They'd never seen anything like it. It was completely fresh and completely new. I think in the language there's a simplicity and a clarity and a resonance of universal truths that just gets everyone feeling something."

Steven Galloway: "I think part of it is that Canada doesn't have a mainstream publishing business. There's no giant publisher of smutty detective novels, for example. If you want to be a writer in Canada, the literary example is what you go towards, generally speaking, as opposed to the States and Britain, where they have more markets for more populist forms of writing that you can fall into easily. I mean, to be a science fiction writer in Canada, you have to be extraordinarily dedicated to the idea of science fiction because it doesn't exist for you to just join."

Kim: "When I was in England, we did a program on where is the best place for a writer to live in the world -- looking at things from the cost of living, to whether the culture accepted someone being a writer, to the amount of money you get from grants -- and it was Canada. I thought it would be Ireland, but it was here. And everyone joked they were going to move here."

On being the anti-trend:

Galloway: "I think the perception that nonfiction is exponentially hotter than fiction is a false one. And anyway, for most fiction writers, it's not a choice: You take away their ability to lie and there's nothing left."

Kevin Chong: "They always say that the publishing industry is dying, but they put out more and more books every year. It survives. There are more and more people publishing books and wanting to be writers."

On making pennies an hour:

Elaine Corden: "It's a clichÃƒÂ© for a reason: If you're doing it for the money, you're always going to be hooped. People are going to smell that. You aren't doing it to make a living at it; you're doing it because you have to, because there's a story in you that has to come out."

Chong: "I know a lot of people talk about how terrible being a writer is, but it's terrible having a nine-to-five office job that you hate; it's terrible doing a lot of things. And it's terrible not to be able to do what you really want to do. And the fact that you're able to keep writing is a small success.

"Talking about being a writer shouldn't be like talking about having a chronic illness or about how to survive a bear attack."

Galloway: "If you ask any writer who just sold a million copies what they gained, it wouldn't be the million nickels they got from the royalties; it would be the million readers."

Anne Stone: "I kind of like that there's no money in it myself, aside from the fact that I have to work for a living. I have absolute freedom. There's nothing at stake to anyone except to me. If what I was working on was considered useful, I wouldn't have those freedoms. It would be more institutionalized, and I wouldn't be able to determine the kinds of questions that I pose in the way that I do it."

Nathan Sellyn: "If I thought I was working for some massive payday, I might work a little longer every day. For me, at least, the money is not a huge factor, given that there are much better things one can go into to make a lot of money."

Corden: "I made $55,000 a year when I was 25 and worked for the federal government. And it's a horrible thing to say, but I woke up every morning and I would think, 'Maybe terrorists have bombed the building that I work in and no one got hurt, and I won't have to go in.' And what kind of life is that?

"And I make, well, I don't even want to talk about last year's tax return. But when someone writes me an e-mail and says, 'That spoke to me,' god, that to me is worth more than anything."

Galloway: "It is true in Canada we have a lower per capita readership than in Holland or other European countries. The parking meter outside my office made more money than I did when I was writing my first book.

"But the flipside is that 40 years ago, you wouldn't be able to find six novelists in Vancouver who had been published, period. So as Kevin says, it is easy to sound like a telethon, but the reality is it's never been better for Canadian writers."

On what they've done to pay the rent:

Stone: "I have actually written porn. I worked for a doctor who also ran a modeling agency and occasionally a depanneur. And he would just speak into a tape and send it home with me, and suddenly we were at page 600. And it became weekly that he would take me out for lunch and send me home with tapes. And he used to give me gifts in this box to thank me, and I never looked in, and I gave it to a friend and told him he could have it as long as he didn't tell me what was in the box."

Corden: "Calling yourself a novelist sometimes allows you to do ridiculously light writing, like a review of Faith Hill, and go, 'Oh, that's OK, because I'm writing a novel.' But I wonder sometimes if it's not nobler to work in a machine shop, because you make something that lasts. And that seems less ridiculous to me than some of the nonfiction writing that I've done to allow myself to write fiction."

Galloway: "I once worked in a paper mill that made superabsorbent paper for feminine hygiene products and adult diapers. It's the highest paying job I've ever had. I can drive a forklift."

On what people say:

Chong: "I don't tell people I'm a writer because they say, 'What do you really do?'"

Corden: "I don't tell people I'm a writer because it's like saying 'You're paying for dinner tonight.'"

Chong: "They say, 'Oh, I have always wanted to be a writer; let me tell you about all of the things I did, because I have always thought of being one.'"

Galloway: "'We should work together because you're good at writing it down and I'm good at having the great ideas.'"

Chong: "People are really interested in writers in a way they wouldn't be if you were a systems analyst or human resource manager. They wouldn't have questions about that. But at the same time, you don't always want to answer those questions or start that discussion."

Corden: "Or disappoint them. I think people tend to romanticize it in a huge way, because they don't see the tower of Diet Coke cans around your office."

Galloway: "When you tell someone you're a writer, it goes one of two ways. Occasionally, they've heard of you, and it's awkward. And the rest of the time they haven't heard of you and apologize for not having heard of you, as if you're offended."

Chong: "I just say I'm a journalist; then no one cares."

Corden: "Yeah, then they just think you're scum."

On writer attire:

Stone: "I have two blankets I wrap myself in -- one that I keep on all day even when I get up to get coffee, and the other I leave on the broken chair that I sit at. But because I order books online and they get delivered, the courier guy thinks I'm a total freak because I come to the door in my blanket."

Chong: "I'm usually showering when the FedEx guy comes, and sometimes I'll be, like, with the towel on, and he says, nervously, 'You don't have to sign, it's OK. I'll just forge your signature.'"

On writing classes:

Corden: "I've taken and taught them, and I thought they were useless both times. When I was teaching them, I thought of Annie Hall, when Woody Allen says, "You can't teach writers to be good. You can only find the good ones and hope to expose them to things that inspire them and things they don't know already.'

"But I don't know that you can take somebody who doesn't have a sense of rhythm and teach them that, for example. I never got anything out of a creative writing class other than cringing. And teaching it, I felt like the biggest fraud ever."

Galloway: "The reality is, if you're going to be a writer, you're going to need to learn some stuff. And you can teach that to yourself, or you can go somewhere where other people are going to teach it to you.

"It isn't brain surgery. But if you want to write a story, you should probably know how a story works. And you can do that by reading lots of stories. But a lot of writing programs just focus in on that in a way that a for certain personality of person, it makes it quicker."

Chong: "If you're really sharp and really diligent and really hard-working, you can do it on your own. But I'm none of those things. So I had to get two writing degrees, and that still didn't help me very much.

"You get deadlines, you get to meet a community of writers and you learn how to read a story from a craft perspective. You go to an English class, and you learn how to read a story in terms of symbolism and historical context. Whereas, in a writing class, you break it down into point of view, scene, narration, the momentum of the narrative, the shape of the narrative."

On how Canada could make even better writers:

Galloway: "You could stop signing my books out of the freaking library, then telling me about it. Writers don't get paid for library books. It's like Napster. It's worse than Napster. We should burn down the libraries because they're stealing from us."

Corden: "I think we need a mentoring program for the business side, and time management classes."

Chong: "Maybe someone to do my laundry and make me dinner. And apparently in France, cab drivers let writers ride for free."

Shopping for Fame and Fortune

"It's like you'd be wandering around a big fitting room, somewhere in New York, pulling things out. And celebrities are standing there, and you're like, 'Ok, you're wearing this, you're wearing that!" Then you all go out and photographers take pictures of them on the red carpet, then you all go to the party together."

So says a 15 year-old from Kelowna. She's not shy about her desire to be a stylist. She wants to work with Kate Hudson and Mischa Barton, in particular. Along with her entire grade ten fashion merchandising class, she spent five hours on a bus to get to the Kwantlen graduation fashion show. There, the auditorium was packed with hundreds of girls from rural and urban British Columbia (BC) who, glassy-eyed, shared similar career aspirations.

Many of those young women are now taking their first college fashion courses, and they're attending shows at this week's Vancouver Fashion Week. Testimonials from teen girls and the success of shows like America's Next Top Model may show that modeling is still one of the top career choices for many young women. But while even five years ago, many young women talked about wanting to be fashion designers, now, few do. Over the past many months I've asked dozens of 15 to 25 year olds about their aspirations. I heard over and over again that "no one" wants to be a designer anymore. Most want to be stylists - celebrity stylists.

Ticket to fame

Enrollment at BC fashion colleges reflects this. New programs are springing up (at the Art Institute of Vancouver, for example), and at existing colleges such as Blanche MacDonald, fashion merchandising classes outnumber fashion design classes by over three to one. Most of these are at private colleges where the tuition can be up to $10,000 a year, and "dreams" are as high.

So what's life like for a recent grad, determined to make it? "I have to wake up at 5:00 a.m. and set everything before anyone else shows up on set. Sometimes, I'm there 24 hours straight. I get the blame if anything goes wrong. I've got a radio attached to me and people will yell at me to bring socks, bring coffee for the director, sweep something up, anything."

"I didn't get paid anything for the first couple of years, now sometimes I make fifty dollars a day, sometimes two hundred on a really good one," says Stephanie Hartwick, a Vancouver-based fashion merchandising grad. "In Vancouver, you have to be really motivated and constantly networking and partying with the right people. If you're starting out, it's labour intensive, and people aren't nice to you, but if you're really determined, you can do it," According to her classmates, she stands a far better chance than most (several classmates raved about how talented and amazing she is). But Hartwick is one of the only people from her grad class who is getting any work. Hartwick says she'd like to stick with it, but will likely be moving into a more full-time career in retail, keeping up her styling on the side.

Marketing dreams

A cynical or savvy adult might have seen that coming, but most young women don't. And marketing materials for "stylist" programs don't help the critical thinking process. One program gushes, "Envision putting makeup on Jennifer Lopez and Al Pacino in their latest movies, styling Britney Spears' sleek and shiny hair, and having the photos of your creations published in Elle, Glamour and Self. You hang out with the world's most stylish people; some are celebrities, some are members of royal families and some are 'ordinary people' with discriminating tastes. These people admire you for your Midas touch that turns everything into sparkling diamonds. Most importantly, they love you and your works because you make them feel beautiful inside and out."

But marketing materials like these point to why the dream of being a "celebrity stylist" is becoming more widespread. There's the promise of an easy path to celebrity, and a day filled with shopping. Oh yeah, and a future filled with adoration, popularity, and friendship.

There are a few practical explanations for the rise of the stylist: reality TV has exposed roles in the fashion industry that were previously "behind the scenes." And even though many young women aspire to be "supermodels," few have the height or weight (read: eating disorder) requirements to make it big.

The body project

But really, most want to be in fashion because of "the body project," an idea coined by Joan Jacobs Brumberg who is the chair of human development and gender studies at Cornell and the author of several books. She thinks that society leaves young women vulnerable to the forces of popular culture and marketing, and they're getting bombarded. She says girls have always had a "project" but while in the Middle Ages it was religious piety, and in the nineteenth century it was decorum and "good works," now it's their bodies. Girls' create their identities through their clothes, makeup, hair, accessories, and thinness. They spend more time thinking about these things than schoolwork, boys, parents, or even friends.

And it's heating up. When I was a teenager 12 years ago, I had to worry about thinness and clothes. But as Brumberg points out, "now, the newest thing is that they even have to have perfect pubic hair designs." It's all consuming.

So consuming

Consuming is the key word. Girls create their images through shopping. One 16-year-old girl told me, "I love shopping. I mean it's so, so creative. It's so fun." Clothes define how girls see themselves and each other, how they choose their role models (many young women still list Sarah Jessica Parker as one of their main role models even though Sex and the City is long gone), and how they see their futures (for example, they talk about how they'll be wearing Manolo Blahniks -- $500 shoes - rather than trendy sneakers).

In Female Chauvinist Pigs, Ariel Levy argues that shopping and consumption were what made Sex and the City the compelling hit that it was. "The truly defining pursuit of their world wasn't sex so much as it was consumption. Sex and the City romanticized the weather in Manhattan, the offices of Vogue magazine, the disposable income of the average journalist, but what it romanticized most was accumulation.

"There was as much focus on Manolo Blahniks and Birkin bags as there was on blow jobs. Buying things became a richly evocative experience as seen through the lens of Sex and the City Ã¢â‚¬Â¦ a feathery pair of mules became of the linchpin of a glamourous, romantic evening in Central Park. It was as though without the shoes, everything else - the moonlight, the trees, the man - would dissolve into the night, leaving nothing but the bleak mundanity of regular life in its place."

For young women, shopping isn't just a way to obtain the clothes and makeup they need to create their identities, it's the main backdrop for their relationships. Brumberg points out that, "So many girls shop with their friends and mothers, so there's a fantasy about friendship. They think, 'Because I select these beautiful things for the celebrity, she'll want me to go to the party.' Girls bond over shoes and clothes. So in wanting to be a celebrity stylist, they're looking for friendship more than wages. It's important that the celebrity they'd like to dress is the same sex - it's not about being a stylist for a man. It's about their development needs as a young woman."

Buying love

Many girls hope that through these relationships, and through the shopping, they'll become the fabulous celebrities themselves. Magdelene Ow, who just graduated from the Kwantlen fashion design program admits, "Most young women go into fashion for the fame. And when you're a teen all you do is shop, so you think 'I'd love to shop for celebs then I'd see them wear my ideas then I'd be famous too." She says those girls don't know about the 14-hour days she and everyone else puts in.

The celebrity industry succeeds by making fame. As one 18-year old woman from Vancouver says, "Maybe it's reality TV, but it's just so easy to be famous." Reality TV (like America's Next Top Model and Project Runway) makes it seem as if you simply need to beat 20 other contestants to gain instant fame. Even those cast off the show often go on to "make it."

Compared to that, fashion design, the career choice young women talked about even five years ago, seems less appealing. Many young women say they can't sew and don't want to learn. Many say, "sewing seems so hard" - unlike shopping. Others say sewing seems like being a tailor, as opposed to something glamourous and high status. Yes, some young women are interested in fashion as art or fashion as cultural expression and they're slugging it out over their sewing machines. They love textiles, color theory, and form. But that's not what stylist aspirations are about.

Instead, most are interested in shopping their way to fame. They won't make it. They don't know that. And it's hard to blame them.