Tag Archives: Are they serious?

Jennifer Hawkins: Feminist Icon and Super Hot Model Chick

So Jennifer Hawkins has appeared undressed and un-airbrushed in a Marie Claire shoot on behalf of the Butterfly Foundation and to promote positive body image to women. I see. Brave girl, huh? That lingerie-modelling, swimwear parading, supermodel-face-of-Myer, Miss Universe, she’s a brave girl. Is she serious? The image of the J-Haw that is bashed across our heads on a daily basis as the paragon of the all Aussie chick is enough to have most teenage girls shoving three fingers down their throat after a meal of steamed carrots, let alone a spread that demonstrates that even without computer manipulation she still is in possession of one of the world’s great bodies.

The message here is supposed to be what, exactly? That all women can look like Hawkins? That Hawkins, without computers, looks like all women? Great news if you’re a size 24 bushpig with splayed feet and ‘hair issues’ – you’re in with a good shot to be the face of a department store earning gazillions! Because, after all, she’s one of you.

It’s inconceivable that Hawkins is not aware of how much better she looks than most of the planet. Even on her most unslept, unwaxed, suicidally hungover, rogue pimpled, period-bloated day she is still hotter than 99.9% of people who have ever lived, let alone the fat-ankled, chafe-thighed, brain dread consumer drones who flood through the doors of Myer when DFO have run out of XXXL three-quarter pants and track suit tops.

Marie Claire, like most of the ‘female’ magazines that profess to be drivers of positivity for women, has again shown that it exists in a bubble and pursues no higher calling than moving magazine units. Which is all fine, if it didn’t stand on a botox box and shout to the world what a job it does of making women feel great about themselves. It has only ever been a matter of time before Australians tire of the ubiquity of the J-Haw brand. These things are only ever just a minor slip-up away. Perhaps that time is now. And that’s perhaps something women can feel good about.

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The Week’s Top 5

Victoria Beckham: The world’s ultimate WAG has revealed that her feet are so deformed from excessive high heel use she’ll need re-constructive surgery to get them back to a normal shape. This has, naturally, been decried by womens’ groups as an example of the appalling lengths girls will go to simply to look good for men. Are they serious? Posh should be applauded for proving that, in spite of a crippling deformity, any girl with an endless amount of designer clothes, a carefully managed eating disorder, and a quality set of fake cans, can get any man she desires. You go, girl!

Bin Hidin’ for 8 Years: A report out of the US Senate has suggested that the government and military missed their chance to capture Osama bin Laden. Are they serious? Coz, like, most of have noticed he’s still pumping out enough movies each year to rival the Police Academy series. (BTW, you gotta see Bin Laden Terror Academy 6: Boys in the Jihood. It’s gold.)

Dubai Collapse: Surprised? Are you serious? Not a year ago they were installing cooling devices beneath their beaches so the sand wouldn’t be quite so hot on the feet of the tourists. Well, it probably is hard to acclimatize after an all day downhill ski session on an artificial mountain top. You know those mornings where you wake up with a shattering hangover, no money in your wallet, a fire hydrant in your bedroom, and your best mate’s mother under your sheets? Yeah, that’s Dubai right now.

Tiger Woods: Is he seriously going out with that story? Are we expected to believe he has just gone from the world’s best driver to the world’s worst? (What? That gag was there and I stand by it).

Junk Mail: Have had a ‘no junk mail’ sign on my front gate for some time. Still it comes. Like the rising tides of climate change there appears no way to halt it’s steady, implacable surge. Are they serious? Enough! The guy in the flat beneath agrees, and has taken to collecting each piece of advertising material, enveloping it, and sending it back to the business owner who’s name is on it, along with a some swear words and God knows how many exclamation marks. That’s step #1. Under step #2 I am required to leave all the week’s junk in the letter box to accumulate so that he can taker a photo of it in all it’s over-flowing, junk mail glory, to be dispatched with a disgruntled note to our local councilor. Is he serious?? I don’t even know whose side I’m on anymore but i’m pretty certain I’m having one of those ‘kill em all let god sort em out’ moments other middle aged men so frequently default to. I highly recommend it. It’s liberating.

Below: Victoria Beckham takes up residence in northern China where hideously shaped feet are a source of pride; Tiger celebrates a successful reverse park; and my nieghbour makes his way to City Hall.

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