Freudian slip, we're sure.
Inside Vogue

· Condé Nast redefines "international cuisine" so that it means "African-American." We'd write something about minorities-as-foreigners at 4 Times Square, but you're already thinking it. [Lowdown]
· "Often Hargo's The Somerville Gates has been compared with Christo's The Gates, Central Park, New York City. These comparisons have been unfair; sometimes the media has exaggerated — even lied — about the similarities." [Not Rocket Science]
· The Wall Street Journal reaches a new low in depressed, OCD-enabling writing with their piece on how people hate Sunday because of the looming Monday. [WSJ]
· Tonight on Project Runway, the quote of the week: "We were all really nice to you because we felt sorry for you because you're such a terrible designer and like, a mother of however many children and you live in the middle of wherever." [NYT]
· George Michael announces his intentions to "disappear" and, predictably, Drudge gives this news the red headline treatment. [Reuters]

Lucky editors can neither read, nor spell, but they sure can plug! We were going to lay off Lucky and its beauty fascist editor, Jean Godfrey-June (since we mentioned her earlier), but this is begging for abuse.

A conspiracy-minded reader alerts us to a sketchy theory: Could the cover illustration of Vogue editor Anna Wintour from Jerry Oppenheimer's Front Row look any more like the FBI sketch of Ted Unabomber Kaczynski that was circulated around in the 90s?

This just in: reportedly, the publicity department at St. Martin's Press recently dropped off a several boxes in front of the Condé Nast building at 4 Times Square. The contents? Copies of our favorite Anna Wintour biography, Front Row. Sneaky.

We know you've been waiting for your daily escape into the life of Vogue editor Anna Wintour, in which we open her biography Front Row and pick a passage at random. Today's treat, from page 123:

Gather round, children! It's time for us to open the magical Anna Wintour biography Front Row to a random page and pick a passage of note. Today, from page 83:

Front Row, the unauthorized biography of Anna Wintour, has been on the stands for 24 whole hours but, inexplicably, the world is still turning. In an effort to convey the gravity of this tome, we're going to begin a daily feature in which we randomly open the book and print the best passage from wherever we land—because, seriously, there's something absurd on every single page. Today, we closed our eyes and landed on page 15:

It's been far too long since we talked about media bathrooms, don't you think? A reader reminds us of where to find the real news:

Front Row, the unauthorized biography of Vogue editor Anna Wintour is hitting the shelves, and there's some choice insight into her dieting history:

Because a grisly murder on the corner of Clinton and Rivington simply isn't dramatic enough:

A guardian angel with an advance copy of Anna Wintour's biography Front Row alerts us to something inside the forthcoming book (besides mass quantities of Northern Lights): the often-overlooked index feature. If one takes the time, this handy-dandy tool can quickly reveal who is NOT mentioned in the the book, including former Wintour prot
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Kate Betts. That seems sort of unusual, don't you think? Other names ignored by the biography include:

It seems our suggestion that everyone flock to the halls of Glamour magazine for their "find a perfect swimsuit" fitting and bonus body fat analysis extravaganza has done little to help our girls in the house of Cond :

The new issue of GQ is out, and it features a profile of Javier Bardem headlined The Nuevo Brando (above, left).

Because it's becoming mortifying email day 'round here at Gawky Station, we thought we'd let all of you ladies in search of the perfect swimsuit (because everyone but you is spending Valentine's Day in St. Bart's) know of an exciting opportunity over at Glamour magazine:

The secret, meticulously-groomed path to Vogue editrix Anna Wintour's heart has been revealed in a new biography (unfortunately) entitled Front Row: The Cool Life and Hot Times of Vogue's Editor in Chief. According to this clearly-unauthorized bio, Wintour had a weeklong affair with reggae legend Bob Marley when he was in New York in the late 70's, spending nearly all of her time either backstage or in his hotel room. This is huge: it's totally hard to get the bong water smell out of your Halston frock, y'know?

This week in the normally venerable New Yorker, we're given insight into the secret lives of rich 20-somethings. (Disclosure time: yes, we know these 20-somethings, who happen to run College Humor.) We learned a lot, actually: watching The O.C. might get you laid; "penetrating" the dating scene is hard (heh); you can pleasure a female through some uncomfortable technique called "the shocker"; and the quanitity and measurements of one's flat screen television collection is the new cock size equivalent.

Hey, wanna make $250k this year for leaking bland celebrity quotes to gossip columnists? Maybe you want to be GQ's in-house publicist. Then again, if you read 'Page Six' yesterday, you probably don't want to. According to an "insider," GQ editor Jim Nelson is "rude and demeaning" to prospective flaks, and:

This just landed in the inbox and, well, it pulls at our crusty heartstrings. Please read and, if you know how to help this poor reader find Mr. Cond Nast, let us know and we'll put him in touch.

Last week was a crazy week for Condé Nast.