The new issue of earnest (bordering-on-sanctimonious!) magazine Good has arrived! It's the first anniversary issue, so there's a bit of self-congratulatory back-thumping and tabulations of how much money the magazine and its readers have donated to charity. That part is nice. There's also a charticle, "Girl Power," about global politics that announces, "Half of us are female, but only 10 of our leaders are." Which is funny, because a look at the Good masthead doesn't reveal too many staffers of the female persuasion, either!

Boutiques! They're in, New York mag tells us this week. Generally found in such areas as the West Village, Cobble Hill, and Williamsburg, these usually woman-owned mini-stores cater to a particular population of twenty and thirtysomething women. Not quite hipsters, not quite preps, not quite socialites (or wannabes), these women—who toil in such industries as publishing (book and magazine, of course), advertising, and PR, with the odd teacher or non-profit employee thrown in (and maybe a lawyer looking for some weekend outfits)—will spend hundreds on the perfect pair of boots, or on a handbag. They own premium denim, but not anything immediately recognizable from the back pockets. They wear skirts and dresses, but avoid looking overly "girly." It's because the prevailing aesthetic among this demographic has become dictated almost entirely by Lucky magazine.

We had no idea we were pulling down this much scratch. (Um, we imagine our business department doesn't either, in fact!) Hey, Nick Denton, when you finish your caviar omelet at Balthazar, can you stop by the office? We'd like to renegotiate our contract. [Shylock Blogging]

According to IMDB, the author of Great American Celebrity Novel Courtney Thorne-Smith "once considered herself overly busty with a 32DD measurement but eschewed reduction surgery in favor of yoga which she says reshaped her figure of a C cup. 'My body fat got redistributed, and my breasts got smaller.'" That's crazy!

We just got word that former Village Voice gal reporter (and protege of the evil former Voice editor David Blum) Mara Altman is shopping a book proposal, and that the proposed title of the proposed book is Thanks For Coming. It's "a memoir by a woman who has never had an orgasm." The project is out on submission from agent Chris Parris-Lamb, who almost was voted Hottest Straight Man In Book Publishing. In spite of his hotness, and in spite of having spent the last year writing stories about cripple sex and dirty street signs, Mara Altman has never had a freaking orgasm. We have to go lie down. While we do, though, can you help Mara think of a better title?

Yesterday, we learned that Lucky magazine has some funny ways with descriptive language. Today, we learned that it's important to wear sunscreen, courtesy of Hamptonite Dick Stern and the parts of him that weren't obscured by the Week In Review section. We had to wonder: how would Lucky editors describe Dick Stern's tanned hide if it was stretched across the frame of, say, a Fall dream handbag, and not a person? We asked Fashionista editor Faran Krentcil, who promptly responded: "Ridiculously luxe supersoft crinkly leather in the most delicious shade of caramel." Also: "Bottegan."

These women AREN'T WEARING PANTIES. Look to your left; look to your right. At least 50% of the women you can see also are not wearing panties. Can you believe this?

As we continue to enjoy the unghostwritten literary debut of one of America's most beloved television actresses, we learn a lot about pain and human nature and our heroine, Kate Keyes-Morgan. One of the things we learn is that her controlling husband has basically forced her to have an eating disorder. Fun times!

"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times." "Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins." "Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way." "It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife." "It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen." And now, unaided (her publisher claims) by a ghostwriter, one of America's most beloved television actresses has contributed to that list the following:

FROM THE DESK OF MEGAN MCCARTHY — Patricia at StyleDiary posted what I can only pray is a mocking gallery of guys from last week's TechCrunch party. On full display, that most heinous Valley fashion staple — party guests in blue shirts. For the love of Jobs, can this trend die? I understand, the blue shirt is the easy choice for tech meet and greets — that's the point. You think it's safe, so you wear it again. And again. And again. You're trying to just seem like a regular tech guy, I know — but all it does is mark you out as yet another crowd-following Silicon Valley tool. Admit it: You put this shirt away in 2001, after the market crashed, and just dusted it off for this go-round, didn't you?

Hi, can we get a contract like Janice Min's? Maybe if we promise to run more side-by-side photos of celebrities wearing the same outfits? Or, like, photos of Julia Allison at the deli? She's just like... you? Us? $2.5 MILLION FOR TWO YEARS. Way to hold out, lady. Hold us. We're shaking.
Min Signs 2-Year Deal To Run US [NYP]

Just in case you're getting your fashion advice from the New York Post, um, maybe don't? Today's style spread is about the rise of the "monokini," which they define as "a one-piece with slits or cutouts." These don't look good on anyone, even supermodels. They make Paris Hilton look decidedly pear-shaped (well, she is!). And they give you bizarro tan lines. But, hey, ladies, maybe go for it because "if done right, the ice cream man might give you a free popsicle."

Apparently, the upcoming issue of Vanity Fair will feature a piece on that increasingly vital subset of the celebutard population, Guys Who Have Married, Impregnated, Or Serially Copulated With Women Who Possess More Wealth And/Or Fame Than They Do, an exposé on the hanger-on lifestyle (one which, in the words of writer Nancy Jo Sales, seems to have no downside) that will feature Kevin Federline, the guy from The Good Charlottes who knocked up Nicole Richie, and Cisco Adler, among others.

We hear that Jo Piazza, late of Bauer's wretched and folded-before-opening Cocktail, is going back to her old home at the New York Daily News. That's crazy! Who goes back to places they quit? Oh right, this stupid industry. She'll be a features princess or something. We also hear she found out about Cocktail's death while on a cigarette break. Heh. Anyway, fellow Cocktail castoff Piper Weiss will also be rolling up to the Daily News. So much for that self-actualizing screenplay or book proposal or whatever she was talking about.

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What do you get for $23 million? If you spent it on Mediabistro, you got delightful videos like this, in which a freelancer named Joel Silverstein pitches a story to Esquire articles editor David Katz. Young Joel, a recent New York transplant, has a new girlfriend, and is anxious about having to get tested for HIV with her— you know, dealing with his generation's "shared fear of contracting HIV/AIDS." And he would write a story about it!

How very, very wrong we were to dismiss insanely prolific celebrity biographer Andrew Morton's "Posh and Becks" out of hand! It turns out that the book contains a trenchant critique, not only of the current celeb-industrial complex, but of the bedrock of the global economy! And also it contains some of the most hideous cliche-stacks ever printed on paper.

So our—well, not 'our,' but you know, 'everyone's'—Julia Allison has finally found a name for her Time Out New York dating column! No, it's not "Dumb Slut Adventures" or whatever your suggestion was. It's The Single File. What an ugly word that is, "single." What is it, exactly, that makes the word itself, and its connotations, so inadvertent-shudder-inducing? Maybe it's less about actually being single and more about the telltale signs of being uncoupled, hmm? You know ... singlefiers.

We thought we'd seen the last of Scary Sadshaw extraordinaire Alyssa Shelasky when she abandoned her post as a Glamour.com blogger. "You'll have someone new to write about soon. Lucky them," Alyssa told us then. Little did we suspect, though, that we would also have someone old to write about still: Alyssa herself. She's continuing to document her Hamptons-partying lifestyle in her trademark special way, now under the auspices of Hampton Style, which is helmed this summer by the increasingly sundamaged Deborah Schoeneman. "The music was pumping, the models were mesmerizing, and the crowd was the ultimate 'it' clique," Alyssa wrote of a recent bash. We missed you, girl!

Vanessa Carlton and Other Superheroes [Hampton Style]

The Observer catches up with '80s jeans designer François Girbaud—remember, he was the one who had the clever idea of putting his little label on the zipper flap of his jeans, so everyone was always looking at your crotch? Like Z. Cavaricci! And that jingle from their commercials? God, get it out of my head, please!—who is apparently trying to make some sort of comeback. Well, sort of. See, he's already had a bit of a comeback in the last few years, but it was with the wrong kind of people. The black kind.

· Marilyn's ne'er-do-well son, meanwhile, father Michael, says that for the good of his little girl lost, "Dina and I now need to put our legal battle aside," presumably to work full-time on undoing the permanent damage they've done not raising their daughter. [ETOnline]
· Lohan attorney Blair Berk released this statement: "Addiction is a terrible and vicious disease. Since Lindsay transitioned to outpatient care, she has been monitored on a SCRAM bracelet and tested daily in order to support her sobriety. Throughout this period, I have received timely and accurate reports from the testing companies. Unfortunately, late yesterday I was informed that Lindsay had relapsed. The bracelet has now been removed. She is safe, out of custody and presently receiving medical care." Rumors have it that care involves entombing the actress in a coffin-sized, "super" SCRAM device from which she'd be released on her 28th birthday. [Star Magazine]
· Happier times: Hours before her arrest, Lindsay is driven to hysterics by the wet-nosed investigations of either an eight-year-old fan, or Polaroid Beach House day-guest Andy Milonakis. [BWE]
· Everything old is new again! Especially when it's a video edited to make it seem as if Lohan is singing along to a popular radio hit about going to rehab. [iklipz.com]