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Admit it: It's a LITTLE suspicious that Jennifer Aniston's two most serious post-Pitt relationships, complete with her refusals to acknowledge the affairs for JUST long enough to ignite a paparazzi frenzy, have coincided with the much-hyped Jolie-Pitt spawnings. Not that we don't want to believe in wuv, TWUE wuv, but it's all a bit too convenient. And a bit too sad:

Aniston used to be America's most-loved comic actress. Now, thanks to her counteracting all that Brangelina PR with obviously labored stories -- full of suggestive pictures and coy denials -- about her own love life, we're barely able to name a single thing she's has done lately that doesn't involve hanging around with a bunch of notorious man-children.

Not that we don't have any sympathy for Jen, nor do we think the girl shouldn't go out and tap some ass, but... well, read the rest for yourselves, if you choose.

But the REAL reason we think you should head over there: As we look ahead to Fashion Week, we're accepting reader questions about our experiences at that event (or about anything else) that we'll answer in next week's column. You can leave your question as a comment on that entry, or submit queries by email to our editor, Jessica Coen, at jessica (dot) coen (at) nymag (dot) com. She's in charge of picking the ones she wants us to answer, so if you're hell-bent on asking, "How can I come to your house and shave your head while you sleep?" then you may be disappointed unless she happens to have been wondering the same thing.

Otherwise, fire away, and we'll field as many as we can. Go forth and type.
Let's face it. We've all been home all week, holed up in front of the television until some ungodly hour, watching the Olympics. And why? Well, there's the whole majesty of sport, tradition of excellence and camaraderie of the games. And then there's the whole part about how every single one of those athletes can do totally awesome crazy mind-blowing stuff with their bodies. And then, of course, there are their bodies. Come on, we're not the only ones who find ourselves transfixed by the magic of Olympian abs. In fact, we'd bet money that even editrix supreme Anna Wintour has found herself on the sofa saying, "I'd like one of those, one of those, and one of those," and she's not talking about their shoes. This week, we use our NYMag.com column to speculate which Olympian Ms Anna might handpick to be her newest piece of arm candy:

"Ryan Lochte, swimming: Thanks to NBC's daytime Olympics coverage, we recently learned that the U.S. swim team's second-hottest medalist does not shy away from excessive bling, including a faux grill he sports for laughs. Imagine the good times he and Anna could have in Vogue's accessories closet."
So race on over to read the whole column, if you so desire, and feel free to dive into the comments (see what we did there? With "racing" and "diving"....oh, shut up. I was up until 2 a.m. watching gymnastics).
Sometimes, a picture is worth 1,000 words.

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[Photo: WENN]


Of course, that's never stopped us before, which is why we devoted more than 500 of them to the troubling issue of Katie Holmes' addiction to baggy, saggy pegged jeans. It's difficult to come up with a plausible explanation for this manner of pants abuse, but we came up with a few theories anyway:

1. Katie is too depressed to try. She's not exactly getting the Kidman treatment. Tickets for Katie's Broadway debut reportedly aren't selling out, and aside from the Eli Stone stint, Hollywood has greeted her return to acting with a resounding yawn. Plus, having to flee your own home while Oprah talks to your husband, lest he be tempted to couch-surf again, would tax any girl's spirits. Maybe pegged jeans are the new ratty sweatpants.

I'm sure if we'd known about this cardigan at the time, we'd have included that, too; somewhere in Heaven, Mr. Rogers is like, "Dude, I would NEVER have worn a fuschia sweater with red shoes. Does NO ONE understand?" But, one step at a time.

If you'd like to check out our other four theories, click on through to read the rest of "Katie Holmes' Downward Style Spiral."
We've individually featured several of Maggie's Dark Knight press-tour outfits on this site -- like the weird blue and black one, the bra dress, and oh, that billowing jumpsuit from hell -- and concluded that many of them are not to our taste. However, if you step back and view them together, with an eye toward inferring something about her style... yeah, it won't help. Isn't the idea to make a statement without saying a word?

[At least] Anne Hathaway's Get Smart looks each seemed cleverly chosen to rub her ex-boyfriend's nose in her unavailable hotness; similarly, when Gwyneth Paltrow promoted Iron Man, her endless string of super-short minidresses helpfully reminded us that she's still a relevant, sexy woman with legs for weeks, rather than just Madonna's musty old macrobiotic-loving best friend.

Click through to the whole column, if you so desire, to share in our confusion. Hey, maybe you can interpret her style gibberish.
Earlier this week, MTV released a new trailer for the upcoming season of The Hills. After several careful viewings, we think we've figured out what's actually going to happen (as opposed to all the awesome, dramatic shenanigans they're implying will happen):

""What they want us to think: Love blossoms for the only cast member with an actual job ... but the guy lives in New York.
What's really going to happen: The flirtation with the cardboard male model (they both attended USC -- OMG, destiny!) goes nowhere, because Whitney's only function is to hang up clothing at People's Revolution while quizzing Lauren about her problems."
Check out the rest of our predictions on NYMag.com. And get ready to roll your eyes: it seems Spencer has grown a goatee.
NO ONE is more excited than we are about the return of Project Runway! Okay, probably the boys at Project Rungay have us beat. But, listen, we're stoked. Tim Gunn's soothing wisdom! Nina Garcia's withering stares! Michael Kors'...Michael-Korsiness! We take a look at the new season this week for NY Mag.com:

" Hard-core tanorexic Blaye referred to his tiny, diaper-tastic, deeply contrived onesie as "girlicious" so often that he probably owes Robin Antin royalties. Worse, he and Suede appear to be moonlighting on America's Next Top Christian Siriano, which is tiresome at best. Did we mention that Suede refers to himself in the third person? Stop that."
Click through to read the rest -- and comment, if you're so inclined -- at NY Mag.com
This week, we wrote our New York column all about Anne Hathaway's post-breakup revenge wardrobe, and how it's a brilliant strategy for throwing her slimy ex-boyfriend's relationship-ending misdeeds in his face as hard as possible.

If we'd had a month -- or even a week -- like that, we'd be on day eight of watching Ocean's Eleven while eating only ice cream and not brushing our hair. Instead, Anne has risen from the ashes looking like the proverbial $21 million bucks her ex needs to post bail.

For an examination of four of her Get Smart event outfits, click through to "Anne Hathaway Wages Her Chic Revenge." But the beauty of this timing is, right at the moment our column went up, we noticed a fresh batch of photos that indicate she's discovered new tools of vengeance.

Exhibit A: Nothing yanks the heartstrings of your ex and then pulls them out and around his throat quite like a little trip to Leg City.

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I know, I know. Those might be formal shorts. That part doesn't make me so happy. But I'm willing to overlook it, given the fact that her ex of many years is now in prison for allegedly being a stank-ass liar; she is clearly going through an awkward time, and sometimes a broken heart can blind a girl to thinks like the perils of formal shorts. (I would also turn a blind eye to the potential shorts if she would next allow herself to be photographed eating some baked ziti with meat sauce, or something, because she's just getting skinnier and skinnier, and there is a point at which if she shrinks any more her face won't have any room left for her features.)

In general -- hoping desperately that it's just the camera angle and that she is in fact wearing a miniskirt -- Anne looks sort of relaxed and cool and nonchalant. And LEGGY. We're pretty sure that when this photo makes its way into a tabloid, one of the prison guards (or, if he gets out, an anonymous mailing mysteriously also scented with her perfume) will make sure Raffaello Follieri gets a copy so he can weep for that familiar hike up Gam Boulevard that will never happen again. It's like what every girl hopes will happen after a horrible breakup: looking consistently good every time she knows her ex might get a glimpse, so he can see how well she's doing and how smoothly she's moving on with her life.

Exhibit B fits brilliantly into that last point.
If New York Fashion Week is like a good wine bar, then the couture shows and menswear collections are like a huge, debauched absinthe party -- there's everything from achingly gorgeous gowns to stuff that really puts the "high" in "high fashion." And since Hollywood is full of celebrities and stylists who -- for better or worse -- get their hands on some of this stuff for the red carpet, we decided we'd try to guess in advance who'd wear what.

"Jennifer Lopez is lovely in Marchesa, sure, but we miss the demi-nudist J.Lo, who would storm the Grammys in the couturier's theatrical translucent tiger print. And with Victoria Beckham's low body-fat percentage and high pride in her waxer, we almost expect to see her in this see-through number tomorrow. At Whole Foods."

Hop on over and read the rest of our column -- "Which Celebs Can Pull Off Couture?" -- if you dare, and be sure to check out the slideshows. John Galliano's alone will make you squeal with mounting glee, especially when you think about how fetching Intern George will look in a hat with a sword on it.
As I mentioned earlier in the week, Heather and I got to go to the BET Awards on Tuesday. It was totally fun. So we wrote about it for NY Mag.com!

"Would we bump into anyone at the cash bar or pass toilet paper to Ashanti under the stall door? And most important, could we sit through an entire televised event without the comfort of our sweatpants? The answers: Yes, no, and... sort of!"

DID we sneak out and put on sweats in the middle of the show? Find out at NY Mag.com.
We enjoy The Hills as much as the next girls, but we still got way crotchety about all these stupid kids and their damn reality shows for NY Mag.com this week:

"[Whitney] Port, on the other hand, existed mostly as the girl who chewed on her pen before asking Lauren what happened last night, yet suddenly we're being asked to care that she's going bi -- bi-coastal, that is -- for People's Revolution and bonding with a manufactured posse of gal pals who are no doubt just as mentally aimless as their fearless leader."

Also, get off our lawn! Read more at NY Mag.com

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