Girl Detective

Girl Detective

( 7:51 PM ) Girl Detective

How is it that I still love magazines when I know their secret?

It's that they're all the same. They say the same things every month, and from year to year. It's drivel, really. And yet, I cannot turn away.

( 8:36 AM ) Girl Detective

Estee Lauder, visionary

Estee Lauder, founder of the eponymous cosmetics empire, died this week. Thanks to my friend Myron for noting that Estee was the inventor of the cosmetic gift with purchase, a frequent obsession of mine. Estee started her career by peddling home made concoctions. To get people hooked and make them feel clever, she'd always give them something free as well. People thought she was crazy, yet she died one of the richest and most well-known women in history.

The Lauder company has continued to remain relevant over the years, buying up smaller, chic-er beauty lines such as MAC, Bobbi Brown, Stila, Aveda and Jo Malone. Most people don't know these lines are owned by Lauder, and that's intentional. The new lines are allowed to keep their small, individual-owned vibe, while Lauder diversifies its product offerings and has greater control over the industry.

( 1:41 PM ) Girl Detective

Amazon reviews

I just finished a book that I barely liked. Yet it received great reviews, both in the press and at Amazon, so I'd felt pretty safe spending some time with it. Now that I find that I'm wrong I wonder, is it something with the reviews, or something with me? There are a couple potential contributing factors.

First, the book could just be one that I don't like that others do. No right or wrongs about it, just a matter of personal taste. This is the most likely culprit. Closely related to it is the possibility that I just read the book at a bad time. On another day, in another frame of mind, I might've liked it. This is also possible.

The reviews, however, are suspect. I've long maintained that the reviews at Amazon are a useful tool, not to be taken as gospel. Generally, something with a very high rating will be good, or at least enjoyable, and something with a very low rating will not be worthwhile. I then delve into the review themselves, and dismiss the ones by people who can't spell, or who who otherwise identify themselves in some way as an unsophisticated reader. There was a recent kerfuffle, where the anonymity function of reviews broke down and you could view who actually wrote the review. Quel surprise that there were authors touting their own books and dissing those by competitors. I recently saw a review, well after said kerfuffle, on a mom book that was written as if it was by a mom, yet the email address was a man's, with the same uncommon last name as the author's. Hmm.

Even more suspect is the function that allows people to rate reviews as helpful or not. I've found that negative reviews of positive books tend to earn unhelpful ratings. I'm guessing that this rating is not done by someone shopping for the book whose decision not to buy was clinched by the negative review. Instead I think it is done by people, authors or their friends who slam negative reviews of books they like, or in which they have a private interest.

Consumer reviews can be great things, since they are less likely influenced by corporate pressure. It is also far easier to find consumer reviews than professional ones--there are only so many things that the New York Times and Consumer Reports and Cooks Illustrated can review over time. The problem, though, is that consumer reviews are subject to other types of manipulation. Because of this, and because they are open to all, they have a huge signal to noise ratio.

Where does this leave me, in the wake of finishing the well-reviewed book? Still leaning to my original guesses. One of the positive reviews was a starred one from Publisher's Weekly, a usually reliable index. I am left wondering, though, whether I should add my voice to the din at Amazon to cry out my contrary message. Why bother, I think, I'll only be slammed as unhelpful by the seething masses who loved this book. And yet, isn't that the beauty of a democracy. I may get slammed, but I have as much right and as much ability to post as anyone else. Perhaps I'll save another person the time, albeit slight, that I feel I wasted.

The book I didn't like? A young adult novel, Angus, Thongs and Full-Frontal Snogging by Louise Rennison. I did write a review, but it has not appeared yet, even after several days.

( 11:53 AM ) Girl Detective

Lost in Translation: sleeper or snoozer?

On Ebert and Roeper last week, they mentioned recent complaints from people about Lost in Translation. People chastised them for recommending the film, which they thought was overrated.

Ebert wondered if viewing it on DVD was the reason people now were reacting so negatively. He speculated that it was a film that played better in the theater than at home.

I think there's some merit to this argument. I've read there is a physical difference in how our brain processes movies versus DVDs. In movies we subconsciously take in the series of individual images, and the spaces between. DVD, though, is a continuous image and is processed differently by the brain.

Whether or not this is true, I think that there are understandable reasons for Lost in Translation to receive different reactions. I saw it in the theater. Much of what I enjoyed was its mood and texture, both of which benefited from a large screen. The main characters tended to be maddeningly vague, though Bill Murray managed to make this endearing and Scarlet Johannson managed to not make it annoying.

In the confines of home and couch, I can imagine that the mood and texture would not come through so clearly,and a viewer would try to focus more on plot and character, which are not strengths here.

A few years ago, Ebert and Roeper recommended Wong Kar Wai's In the Mood for Love. They waxed rhapsodic on this film several times. When my husband and I got it from Netflix, though, we had to force ourselves to watch it through to the end. Like Lost in Translation, it is a film that relies much on mood and physical setting, with vague, sad characters and an indistinct story and ending. We could recognize that it was a beautiful movie, skillfully made. Yet we didn't enjoy watching it. We had a similar reaction to people who are disliking Lost in Translation on DVD.

Another possibility, though, is that people go in with overly high expectations, or expectations that they'll see a different type of movie. If you go in expecting My Big Fat Greek Wedding and instead see something subtle and atmospheric, you might be disappointed. Movies aren't apples to apples. Yes, some movies are just plain good. Others are good within their type, and depend on what you like. John Hughes made some very good teen movies, but they are not going to stand up well in comparison to something like The Godfather. And if you don't like teen movies, you're not going to like even the best John Hughes movie.

So where does this leave Lost in Translation? Overrated, or misunderstood? I vote for the latter. Maybe mood movies don't play well at home, or its reputation has exceeded its merits. These don't preclude it from having been a sweet little gem in the theater.

( 10:05 PM ) Girl Detective

Hey, can you tell how thrilled I am to be posting again on a semi-regular basis here and on my other blog, Mama Duck?

You know what I love?

Writing.

Ah.

| ( 10:00 PM ) Girl Detective

Blog topics

I write about what occurs to me on any given day. Or, since having a baby, something occurs to me that I want to write about, I forget it, I remember it, I repeat this process a few times, then finally manage to make a note of it in my PDA. Later, if the note makes sense, I actually write about it.

A recent entry on self tanners happened that way. I saw a few people on the street and thought to myself, "Ooh, fake tan--really orange. Bad decision, sister." I remembered and forgot a few times, made a note of "orange" in my PDA, finally figured out what I meant by it and wrote the entry on my continuing push/pull to experiment with self tanners when I know how wrong things can go. And at the end of the entry, I mentioned that my sister had recommended Sally Hansen Airbrush Legs. Ever since, I got several hits a day from people searching for reviews of it. I felt kinda bad that they were coming here just for a throwaway sentence, so I got the product, tried it and then wrote an actual review.

It's a funny side effect of the site meter that it can provide a little window into momentary confluences of pop culture. It's happened a few times, and I'm always surprised by what topics are getting the most searches. I certainly don't plan for it, and I can't always provide what people are searching for. And with some search phrases I wouldn't want to. But a product review of an inexpensive self-tanner that I was going to try anyway? No problem.

For those of you trying to figure out if it's safe to use self tanners during pregnancy, you shouldn't be looking to me for your answers. I'm not a medical expert, just a pop culture maven.

Instead, do what I did. Go here to have an expert at Baby Center tell you that it is.

Whether you want to is another story. Clarins Self Tanning Gel didn't work on me during pregnancy. The woman behind the counter speculated that my skin reacted differently because of the hormonal, metabolic shifts of pregnancy.

( 7:52 PM ) Girl Detective

Review of Sally Hansen Airbrush Legs

Though my sister recommended this product, I was prepared not to like it. It's not that I don't trust her, but rather that I've come to have a deep distrust of all self tanners.

Additionally, the claims on the label seemed over the top: "Flawless, healthy-looking legs...Imagine the feeling of absolute freedom...now at last, spray-on perfect, luxurious legs in an instant. Silky smooth to the touch--optically slimming. Weightless. Long-lasting. Transfer resistant. Enriched with Vitamin K to help treat and soften the appearance of Spider Veins, bruises and scars."

First off, I think they need to get a good copyeditor, because the use of hyphens and capital letters is a little whacked. But after using the product itself, I must admit I was wrong to doubt my sister. Sally Hansen Airbrush Legs doesn't suck.

You should follow the usual advice for self tanning: exfoliate, then shave, then moisturize and add extra lotion to the ankles and knees. It's best to apply in the tub, because you will make a mess. Wait at least the 60 seconds recommended on the label. Put on long-leg pajamas that you don't mind getting a bit discolored.

The spray formula is a little strange, but it works and is easy to blend immediately after it's sprayed on. I did get a little anxious that I wouldn't get it blended before it set, but I did OK. Use a light touch around ankles and knees because they get a bit darker than the rest. The color is a bit orange, but not overpowering. I chose "Light Glow" and applied just a little to try, and it added color without being obvious.

This is a fine product and one I recommend and will use again. It did a reasonable job of tinting my legs with a little mess in the tub, no staining of my clothes, and no obvious blotching or flagrant orange.

As for those grandiose label claims--optically slimming, soften[s] the appearance of spider veins, bruises and scars--I'm afraid I still have my doubts.

| ( 7:33 AM ) Girl Detective

Mad Scientist Manicure, part 2

Last night I started by rubbing Baby Aquafor on my hands, then added and rubbed in Clinique Deep Comfort body wash, then added and scrubbed with Fresh Brown Sugar scrub. These three products together produced a vaguely unpleasant smell, though it dissipated when I rinsed them off and finished with Sally Hansen Radiant Hands. My hands were softer afterwards and this morning than they had been the previous night.

I think starting with a good, thicker moisturizer as a base works well, but I need to find something that will work with the other products.

| ( 6:49 AM ) Girl Detective

Mad scientist manicure

Caring for a baby and changing lots of diapers has me washing my hands all the time; they've gotten pretty crackly. Last night I mixed Clinique Deep Comfort Body Wash and a couple teaspoons of Fresh Sugar Scrub and rubbed all over my hands, then rinsed and put on Sally Hansen hand cream and Dr. Hauschka's Neem nail oil.

The results were good. I'm going to continue to tinker with the recipe, though, and see if I can do better.

( 5:58 PM ) Girl Detective

Men's grooming products

I spend so much time obsessing on my own beauty products that the last thing I want to do is worry about someone else's, like my husband's. But trying to find a hair product for him has been a giant pain, because I can't NOT care. My biggest complaint is smell. It's one thing for me to smell like Aveda. For him to be wafting that distinctive fragrance just seems wrong. He's tried a number of products that one or the other of us has vetoed: Sebastion Molding Mud: too greasy; Zirh hair gel: didn't do a thing; Aveda brilliant anti-humectant, Control Paste and one other product that looked like Self-Control but they don't carry anymore: too perfume-y; Aveda Self-Control: easy to use too much and look stringy; Physique, Crew and who knows who elses' pomade: too smelly, too greasy, just wrong somehow.

After running through all these, my husband is resenting the hell out of me not liking how some of them smell if they work. I beg him to try one more product. And voila. Frederic Fekkai's Grooming Clay is good--little fragrance and good hold, though hard to wash off the hands.

I finally realized what I want in a men's styling product--stealth. It has to do its job, do it well, and not let you know that it's there.

| ( 10:19 AM ) Girl Detective

New neutrals

I rolled my eyes at an earnest young salesperson at Saks who tried to talk me into a sale by noting, "Orange is the new black."

It's a terribly trite phrase, but the meaning behind it is worthwhile. Black is not the only neutral. I wear a lot of orange but don't think that I'd go so far to say it's a neutral that goes with a lot of things.

Olive and burgundy, though, most certainly do.

( 5:58 PM ) Girl Detective

More on A.S. Byatt

Last night Byatt commented that most modern fiction and writing is memoir inspired and can be very limited. Curiosity, she noted, is a very good attribute. Blogs, of course, can be the epitome of limited memoirish writing. Is it enough to be curious in one's reading?

( 10:37 PM ) Girl Detective

I had a few less profound thoughts after the Byatt lecture. One was that I felt neither old nor young--there were many grey-haired academics and many undergrads. I have become decidedly middle-aged. I did, however, feel very well put together. There was a high concentration of tapered pants and socks with sandals for both men and women. Very unfortunate.

| ( 10:31 PM ) Girl Detective

Tonight I went to see A.S. Byatt speak on writing historical fiction. I can't believe that it's been almost ten years since I read Possession, her Booker award winning novel. While I was reading it, I was taking a writing class, taking a religion class, working full time in a job I'd come to hate and in a relationship that I was trying very hard to pretend was not as disastrous as it was. Soon after finishing the book, I decided to apply to grad school in religion. I was pleasantly surprised not only to be accepted for the upcoming fall, but to receive a fellowship. I quit my job, broke up with my fiance, started grad school and started dating my future husband, all by the end of the year. There was so much that was so entangled at the time that exact cause and effect is impossible to know, but I wondered tonight if my life would have been quite the same if not for Possession.

Byatt was intelligent, well spoken and charmingly self-deprecating. She said that she uses the term ghosts for author voices that live on past the death of the person, and contrasts these with documents, the factual details that can be known. She noted that she feels strongly that biographers shouldn't embroider emotion where there's no indication, but that each biography is also necessarily a portrait of it's author as well as its subject. She writes historical fiction, she said, so she isn't constricted by what isn't in historical documents.

I did not purchase her new collection of short stories, as the reception afterwards was a crush of people and I have far too much to read already with far too little time to do so. But I flipped through my copy of Possession, adding a few new notes from tonight. I saw the movie not two weeks before I had the baby last year, so it too presaged tremendous, positive upheaval in my life.

( 3:58 PM ) Girl Detective

Turnabout's fair play

For years, I've joked that Ewan McGregor is my boyfriend. Often I can even manage this with a straight face, so the person I'm talking to has to pause and ask, "um, you're married, right, and you're talking about THE Ewan McGregor, right?" There has also been a little dalliance in the middle with Clive Owen, but mostly my boyfriend has been Ewan. My husband tolerates this little joke because it's a joke and because hey, Ewan is famous and we're not likely to cross paths and have an embarrassing moment. Plus my husband is pretty secure in my devotion, what with me bearing his child and all.

For a while now, though, my husband has been nurturing a crush of his own. What's the problem, then? Isn't it funny when he's making the joke? Perhaps, but the twist is that he likes her for her mind. I thought that was my department.

It started out innocently enough. He'd comment that he really liked the recaps on Television without Pity by Sobell. She covered CSI and was well-versed in both scientific and legal minutia, plus had a sense of humor and obviously loved TV. Then I pointed out to him that she also wrote for the City Pages under her real name, Lisa Schmeiser. I knew she was trouble, though, when he commented that he'd visited Damn Hell Ass Kings and found her weblog.

She's smart, she's funny, and she's well versed in both academic and pop culture topics. This stung a bit when I was befuddled from baby-driven lack of sleep. I feel more secure now that I'm better rested and back on my game. OK, she's intelligent and a good writer. But she's still a virtual crush, so it's not that different from my deal with Ewan. I think our marriage will survive.

( 3:04 PM ) Girl Detective

Some do's and don'ts

My husband, baby and I travelled last weekend to visit family and friends. I'd read about a gluten-free bakery there and we stopped on the way from the airport. I told the man behind the counter that I was visiting and that I'd read about his place in a particular magazine. Rather than being gratified, he waved his hand. "Oh, yeah, we're written up in lots of places." I asked him for a recommendation, and he said bread and pizza crusts. I clarified that I'd only be in town a few days, so those probably wouldn't work for me. He pointed to a bin of biscotti and said to try a few, then turned his attention to another customer. I took a bite of a cocoa biscotti, whose flavor was so faint as to be almost non-existent. When the man next to me asked how it was, I said it did not taste strongly of chocolate. "That's because it's cocoa!" snapped the man behind the counter. In addition to being tasteless it was also dry, so I tucked the uneaten bit in my pocket, I selected a cheesecake and hightailed it outta there.

Here are a few tips for the guy behind the counter: act pleased if a customer tells you she went out of her way to visit your business. Listen to her and recommend something that makes sense. And for pete's sake, stop making chocolate-looking items that doesn't taste like chocolate.

I contrast this with the lovely experience I have every week when I contact the Bread Baker Company in Rochester Minnesota, who mail order gluten free items. They have a set baking schedule, but almost always are able to accomodate requests. Their biscotti are firm and flavorful and stand up well to coffee. Their brownies are moist and like a chocolate fist to the head (that's a good thing). The staff is friendly and there is frequently a surprise in my box each week--some other baked good to try, or biscotti or brownie extra bits. And that's how to run a specialty business: be friendly, be responsive and have a good product.

And this entry is an example of blog ethics do's and don'ts. You'll notice I didn't give the city or the name of the bad bakery, but I've given you the link to the good one. Maybe the guy was having a bad day, maybe I tried the wrong thing. Or maybe he is a jerk with bad product, but he's got a small business, so who am I to make things any harder? Slapping opinions up here on the internet can be a dicey thing. Specifically praising good, while generically admonishing bad, especially in regard to fragile small businesses, feels like a good plan.

( 3:04 PM ) Girl Detective

Get thee behind me, tapered pants

I have been guilty of one of the biggest fashion mistakes for years, and only now have begun to atone for my crimes. Crimes against whom, though?

Myself. My poor, poor self.

In the past, when I found pants that fit, I bought them, without questioning whether they were flattering. Too often, these pants had legs that tapered at the ankle, further exaggerating my already relatively large thighs and bum. I've learned my lesson, though, and it is better late than never. Straight leg or slight flares balance out a cushy bum and thighs, providing proportion and balance.

The only body type tapered pants flatter is tall and thin. Since that's so few of us, though, how have they become so ubiquitous? The unwary shopper flirts with danger. I was in the Gap today and was directed to the "Clean Cut" fit, which featured a slightly tapered leg. I steered clear and went for the boot cut instead.

As I've shopped for spring clothes, I've found almost no pants that fit. Shunning the tapered look has severely limited my choices. I've wound up with skirts and dresses instead. This only reinforces the fashion lesson I learned last year when I was pregnant and my body was changing shape all the time. Not only are skirts and dresses more forgiving of body change, they are also often more flattering, more professional looking, and easier to put together. Dresses especially make for very easy mornings. Yes, there is the added pain in the ass factor of regularly shaving legs and underarms, but I think the aforementioned benefits are more than worth it.

( 2:38 PM ) Girl Detective

I just finished wrestling with one of the most addictive substances out there today. Crack? Cigarettes? Caffeine? VHI? Reality TV? Reality TV on VH1?

No. Harry Potter #5.

As with most things in my life, I'm working on a time delay. Having a baby will do that, I'm told. So I finally got around to starting Harry Potter #5, which I'd had since soon after the baby was born last August. Wondering how the hell I'd find time to re-read the first four, we instead ordered them on cd from amazon.co.uk, since the English versions are read by Stephen Fry. I listened to them during nursing sessions with the baby, and we finished them off in not time. I still balked at picking up the bigger-than-a-brick-sized #5, though. And when I did, I could hardly put it down.

Many complaints have been levelled at the book: too long, too dark, Harry's a jerk. All of these, I think, are true. But too dark is a lame criticism for a book, whether it's for children or not. If it's too dark for you, then it's not to your taste. It doesn't mean it's a bad book. I actually respect children's book authors who don't pander to readers just because they're young. Shitty things happen, and hiding that fact from kids does no one a service. As for Harry being a jerk, I think the motivation for his frustration is drawn well, and which one of us wasn't a self-centered brat at fifteen? I know I was.

I have some further ones to add. There are a few too many eccentric details that don't contribute to the book. Are they red herrings, or Rowling's creativity run amok, with no one brave enough to edit? I suspect the latter. Additionally, the "why Harry won't tell Dumbledore" reasoning is pretty slim, and all the more difficult to believe since this is the fifth book that hinges largely on this flimsy plot point. I wish Rowling would take a page from Diana Wynne Jones and have Harry and Co. confide in Dumbledore but have him unable to act on what they tell him, or incapacitate him in a believable way so that they'd like to tell him, but aren't able.

In spite of it all, though, the book is still really good. Fun to read and engaging, it compels the reader to find out what happens. This is not the work of a hack cranking out crap. Rowling has an intricate setting and she makes the reader care, both about the characters and the story. Before I read the book, I prepared to have self-righteous criticisms of it: too long, she took too long between books, she's gotten too famous to be properly edited, etcetera ad nauseum. Yet I can't complain. I liked it even while I see it isn't perfect, and I look forward to the next one. Nice work, Ms. Rowling.

( 5:54 PM ) Girl Detective

The lure of self-tanner; the unfortunate resulting orange

As the weather warms, my mind turns inexorably to new beauty products. And, since my legs are getting a bit more air time, I start thinking of self-tanning again.

Last year, loyal readers may remember that I had a brief but unfruitful dalliance with the popular Clarins line. Didn't do sh*t for me, except leave me with strange streaks and orange knees and ankles. And yes, since you ask, I did both exfoliate and use extra moisturizer on the trouble spots, to no avail. I decided to stick with pale.

Over the winter, and in multiple episodes of Queer Eye, the various tanning mists have taken on a grail-like aura. It's quick! It's easy! It's fake but looks real!

And yet, person after person I see walking the streets of Minneapolis has that telltale orange tint. Even Charlize Theron had it at the Oscars, so more money can't necessarily buy a better fake tan. Even more unfortunate was the woman I saw with bleach bottle white hair and dark orange skin. She looked like a creamsicle.

Yesterday I tried a Nars Bronzing product. You run the bottle under hot tap water to loosen it up, then shake and apply. It's got a pleasant faint coconut smell, but then goes on exactly like the Clarins from last year. Can't tell it's there except for the darkening around the knees and ankles. Useless. I think it's gotta be the spray tan or nothing, yet I shudder to think of being coated in orange till it fades. Do I not spend the money and time, and continue to try to come to terms with my pale complexion?

Then again, my sister recently raved about Sally Hansen Airbrush Legs, so perhaps I'll give that a try. It's a Target cheapie, so little harm to be done, I think.

Girl Detective the person is a titian-haired sleuth, intent on fathoming the mysteries of the world at large, with particular (and some might say obsessive) attention paid to the mundane details of female life.

Girl Detective the weblog is not about girl detectives; sorry if you came here looking for that. It is, however, an homage to the inquisitive nature, untiring spirit and passion for justice that marked these great literary heroines.

Girl Detective the weblog is a forum to practice my writing. It is about whatever strikes me on any given day. I am a woman writing for other women. If guys find it interesting, bravo. If not, that makes sense, but don't complain.

All material here is copyright 2002-2004 Girl Detective.

I was pregnant. Now I've got a baby.
Review of Angle of Repose
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