Homegirl Kate Moss, waiting for the rebound
From the Department of Well at Least She Can Score Some Good Drugs Here comes the morning’s gem:
Guess which local municipality is the recipient of an extraordinary valentine in the September issue of W magazine? “Detroit is coming back, reborn as one of the most vibrant cities in the world,” proclaims W, the chic fashion monthly published in New York.
And here I thought fashion-magazine lies were confined to touting anti-aging formulas that turn back the clock.
But no, this is W, which is no mere fashion magazine. The salute to Detroit — and please, note the razor wire on the fence behind Kate in one of the most vibrant cities in the world — comes as part of a 54-page spread, which is sort of W’s signature. They were the ones that brought you that weird Brad-and-Angelina photo thing, in which they seemed to be impersonating a ’50s couple who hated one another. Then there was the similiar-size Madonna thing a couple months ago, a tryout of the costumes from the equestrian portion of her current show. (I was looking at those photos online while IMing with a guy in San Francisco, who was doing the same thing. “What if Madonna f*cked a horse?” he wondered. “Would anyone care?”) Both were sort of the ultimate statement on fashion-magazine editorial copy, in the sense that they contained little useful information — captions, location notes, where-to-buy info. Just pictures: Here’s a horse. Here’s Madonna regarding the horse lustfully. Here’s Madonna lying down on the horse, smoking a cigarette. (Which led to the what-if question.) Now we have 54 pages on Detroit, an equally strange choice to devote that much editorial space to. Although, it seems, there is amusing copy to go with it:
“I don’t know who I’m more in love with, Kate Moss or Detroit,” (photographer Bruce) Weber is quoted as saying in a short bio.
I guess there are some fashion facts in this layout, but on the whole, it just seems creepy. The Metro Times is not amused, and makes some very good points along the way.
It’s an all-media bloggage bouquet today: Local press critic Jack Lessenberry on the decline of the Detroit dailies.
And some comic relief, via Mitch Harper via Gawker, demonstrating that when it comes to being provincial, no one quite does it like Indianapolis. That’s a restaurant review, and from the headline (“Ooh la la”) to the little details (the critic notes each table has its own “brass pepper grinder”), it’s a delight. I shouldn’t spoil the surprise, but for those who won’t click through, I have to single out this:
The menu has many words in French, my undergraduate minor. But it’s been a while, so I asked a waitress for a few interpretations. It’s lucky I did. Otherwise I might have accidentally ordered goose liver pate as an appetizer.
Heavens to Pierre!