Vanity Fair This Month

I love Vanity Fair, but every time I get my issue in the mail (and it's always a good two damned weeks after it hits the newsstand), I have a ritual. I tear every card, perfume/cologne insert, thick-papered ad, and special section out. Anything that my thumb stops on when I rifle through the magazine is destroyed. I wonder how many others have this ritual with the thick-and-glossies. My tearing usually relieves the issue of at least a quarter-inch of the thickness.

Why do I like Vanity Fair? Because it's edited by Graydon Carter, one of the founders (along with New York Magazine's Kurt Anderson) of Spy Magazine. Because it's one of the only fourteen places (along with The Nation. and Slate and The New Republic and The Atlantic) to read Christopher Hitchens. Etc.

The last time I mentioned Vanity Fair in this blog I called attention to a Hitchens piece on fellatio. This time is no less bawdy. It's a diagrammed guide to exposing one's self whilst getting out of a luxury vehicle -- just for celebrities, females take note. For those of us who search the sordid side of the celebrity coverage on the Internet, this is well-timed. Go ahead, Google "celebrity up-skirt". It'll only ask you if you meant "celebrity upskirt". Ahh, Paris.

Seriously though, if I click on the first result for the latter search, I get a saucy Deutsch message that reads: Die Seite kann nicht gefunden werden. Which sounds nasty, but actually seems to mean "the page cannot be found." Oh, stop!