You Give Skank A Bad Name
Regular readers of this column know several things about me. 1) I love fashion, and blame it on a genetic predisposition due to my descent from tailors, dress makers and owners of clothing stores. 2) I read the style page in the Miami Herald despite the fact that style is so loosely defined by their editors as being any old rag on any old hag. 3) I am not shy about sharing my (superior) taste and opinions with you, my readers, or the editors of the aforementioned Herald style page.
Yesterday’s featured… featured what? I am at a loss for words beyond skank-ho, appalling, mutton-dressed-as-lamb and a few others that even I won’t use here. Be warned, the photo is not work or retina safe.
Yeah. Where do I begin? At the top, with the obvious and ratty weave? With her age (43) which means she’s old enough to know better (something both RJ and a few others mentioned to me)? With the fact that she’s wearing and admitting to wearing (which may even be worse) a perfume that smells like cotton candy?
How about at the bottom, with her boots, which look, even allowing for bad newsprint, filthy and in need of a good cleaning/polishing?
In fact, I would go so far as to say that Ms. Auerbach herself looks in need of a good scrubbing. The RLA, upon seeing this on the dining room table and watching me spew coffee, said merely: Hmm, plastic surgery is THAT girl’s friend.
In the interest of full disclosure, I have to say that Auerbach was my maiden name, and I was ready to put my head in the oven in shame over her. But this morning I did my Google homework and found that she married into the name, and so is of no concern to the integrity of my family line. I also found out that she claims not to drink, that she’s a body builder, and the divorced mother of two teenagers. They must be very proud of her today.
But wait, there is more to this than meets the scarred retina. I actually read her “hot Valentine’s Day tips.” I quote, and then I opine:
“Wear sexy red lingerie under your outfit just in case someone special wins your heart; put on a pair of sizzling red stilettos with pencil-leg jeans; carry a designer red tote bag big enough to fill with devilishly delicious chocolate truffles, scented candles and massage oil.”
Another thing that readers of this blog know about me is that I am passionate about AIDS education, research and social assistance, and that I served for almost ten years on the board of directors of a local AIDS service organization. So when I say that I almost popped a vein after reading her tips, you know where I’m going next.
Who, in 2007—twenty-odd years after the start of the AIDS crisis, can offer the suggestion of being ready for spontaneous sex with some random person who floats your boat on Valentine’s day without loading that designer red whore’s bag of tricks with condoms? Who would even think of preparing in the morning for a chance encounter that night? And this woman has two teenagers. What is she teaching them?
And where is the journalistic responsibility of the Miami Herald? Oh, yeah. Oxymoron. Herald and journalism or Herald and integrity… The whole enterprise appalled me, and I fired off one of my more scathing letters to the editor. I’m certain it went straight to the digital circular file. Still, would it have killed an editor to rewrite her tip so that it at least pretended to be suggesting you do all this for someone you are already in a relationship with? Or to include condoms in the “be prepared” list? Or even to have chosen someone who looked a little less likely to be found on the side of the road up around 79th Street?
Again, in the interest of full disclosure, I also found that Ms. Auerbach claims to be a writer, one who specializes in writing for the Neighbors section of… The Miami Herald. Can you say circle jerk?
Once again, I find myself shaking my head and asking why I even bother.