Ever wondered what eight gold medals look like? No? Well, Michael Phelps wants to show you anyway, posing on the cover of Sports Illustrated with his winnings hanging around his neck. And if you were curious as to how popular he's become over the past couple of weeks, the media is now speculating on his love life, which means he's officially hit the big time. The two candidates for Michael's maybe-girlfriend are fellow Olympic swimmer Amanda Beard and model Lily Donaldson. The article left out his third potential girlfriend, Whitney, but it's probably best to keep that under wraps.
It's embarrassing story time: During my sophomore year in college I had a teensy weensy crush on Olympic swimmer Michael Phelps that drove me to spend over $100 on all the MP paraphernalia I could find on eBay. Then I dragged my roommates into my obsession by making them accompany me to a swimming exhibition an hour away where we caught a small glimpse of Michael as he walked back to his bus. I wrote down my phone number to give to one of his handlers, but — can you believe it — I never heard from him. I finally moved on, but I have a bad feeling my problem may creep back now that it's Olympic season yet again and Men's Journal is putting out pictures like these.
My morning got off to a terrifying start over at Stereohyped, where Lauren posted some of the most disturbing pictures I have ever seen. After discovering a UK Web site that shows what you would look like with a different age, race or sex, morphed pictures of Beyonce and 50 Cent surfaced. I joined in on the fun and discovered a lesson I will carry with me forever: If I had been born a man, I would have looked like Perez Hilton's brother. Shudder.
So now it's your turn: Instead of working or being productive today, feel free to wander over to the site (link here) and discover what you or your favorite celebrity would look like as a man, woman, baby, East Asian or any of the other possibilities. Then e-mail them to me at whitney@mollygood.com — attach the images, send me links, whatever your heart desires. Tomorrow I'll post the most disturbing of the bunch. Happy procrastinating.
Growing up in Abilene, Texas, my friends and I sometimes had to get creative when it came to entertainment. Normally, said entertainment consisted of them luring me into a car by convincing me we were going to go hang out at Sonic, but instead driving me by the House of Yahweh, a local cult. I would scream in the backseat, duck down, cry, etc., and they would laugh and laugh. But the cult — named one of the deadliest in America — terrified me. Having been in New York for almost a year, I assumed I was safe from all of that, but one of my friends informed me last night that the leader has predicted the end of the world — and it's supposed to be happening this week. CONTINUED »
It's that time again: The months of hard work and dedication have come to an end for both American Idol contestants and viewers around the nation. Every year, the season finale is littered with inane sketches, awards and group medleys, usually leaving five minutes of noteworthy television. But Whitney is dedicated, and she will be taking the bullet for you tonight as she liveblogs the entire two-hour event. Feel free to join her on the journey — or if you refuse to watch these shenanigans, you may catch up on the happenings without having to turn on your television. You're welcome.
Last night, a handful of celebrities who seemingly had nothing in common gathered to honor — what else? — fragrance. The Fifi Awards, known as the Oscars of the fragrance industry, honored such achievements as best packaging and presented Vera Wang with a hall of fame award. But the real show was on the red carpet, where everyone's favorite D-listers (think Danity Kane and Minka Kelly) gathered to have their pictures taken and answer such hard-hitting questions as, "What are you wearing?" CONTINUED »
Yesterday was my big television debut on TRL (featuring Gavin DeGraw), and it was even more uncomfortable and embarrassing than I had imagined. My mom insisted on calling the entire family back in Texas to alert them about my appearance, some of my friends from college skipped class to watch … too much attention, if you ask me. I'm just not cut out for the camera.
That said, I found a video of the show on YouTube for your enjoyment. Luckily, it's a little blurry, so you can't see the awkward faces I make throughout — so just trust me on this one. I'm in the blue cardigan to the left of Fergie's head, but you could just as easily find me by searching for the oldest one in the group.
Let me preface this by saying that I love Gavin DeGraw with all my heart. He is my all-time favorite artist in the world, and he is one of the few people (see also: Lance Bass) for whom I would torture myself in this inhumane manner.
I got an e-mail a few nights ago alerting me to the fact that Gavin would be taping a TRL appearance Monday at 10 a.m. (Don't even get me started on the fact that TRL is no longer "live.") Naturally, I signed up right away and spent the days leading up to the show mentally preparing for the screaming teenagers I would encounter. Unfortunately, no amount of preparation could ready me for the hell that was outside the MTV studios. CONTINUED »
Right now, Mollygood associate editor Whitney is waiting in line to attend a taping of MTV's desiccated flagship TRL, where she will profess her love to musician Gavin DeGraw. Predictably, the poor girl's losing it out there amid the droves of hormonal sycophants that go to those things. Via BlackBerry, Whit notes, "I should have brought a gun."
Some real Texas sass after the jump.
CONTINUED »
Tonight's the big night: American Idol will try to raise over $100 million for charity by pimping out Brad Pitt and punishing the world with a Teri Hatcher performance. Whitney will be there to guide you through the process tonight on Mollygood, because she is the only person who is excited about this fiasco. CONTINUED »
I'll come right out and say it: I spent a large portion of my life believing I was going to marry Lance Bass. I was a weird child. My life came crashing down when he finally confirmed he was gay, but sometimes I convince myself this is all a big trick and he is just waiting to meet me.
So you can imagine my sheer happiness today when news broke that Lance broke up with his latest boyfriend, Ben Thigpen. Who says dreams don't come true?
Call me, Lance!
[Source]
Hey! I'm going to Ireland for some reason or another. Perhaps the verdant fields are calling me. Or maybe it's all the damn whiskey! Regardless, I've got to leave early. You're in Whitney's hands now! Have fun!!!!
All throughout Fashion Week, I had one mission in mind: To sneak into the Project Runway show. I lingered around the Bryant Park tents last weekend, getting a feel for the place and mentally drawing up a plan as to how to sneak in without actually having my name on the list. I woke up early this morning prepared for battle. Of course, it ended badly.
(At right: The face of a reject.) CONTINUED »
I ventured over to Chelsea after work this week to catch the Eventide show. I was expecting a smaller crowd because it wasn't being held at Bryant Park, but, of course, the line went all the way down the block. I sat outside in the cold for a good 30 minutes, but once we congregated inside it wasn't nearly as bad as the madhouse at the Rock & Republic show.
The girl who checked me in knew who I was after I told her my name: "From Jossip?" she asked. Either I've hit the big time or she had gone over that list one too many times. I have a feeling it's the latter. But I did feel important because I was assigned a seat this time around — and not even in the last row!
Fashion Week continued Saturday night with the Rock and Republic runway show and afterparty, both of which I was lucky enough to attend.
This was my first time to visit the Bryant Park tents, and it was insanely overwhelming: There were swarms of people pushing past me in an effort to get to the show on time. Except, of course, the show started almost an hour late. We were herded like cattle into an area behind the seats where we could hardly see the runway, but it didn't matter: I was at Fashion Week, and you simply couldn't beat the atmosphere. CONTINUED »
Friday kicked off Fashion Week, and that evening I attended the afterparty for Nabe, a collection by Project Runway's Victorya Hong and my first FW event.
I got the invitation late Friday afternoon — after I had already made plans to escape the bad weather and curl up on my couch for the evening — but the guest list made me change my mind and brave the storm:
Guests include: Jack Mackenroth, Christian Siriano, Daniel Vosivic, Carmen Webber, Kevin Christiana, Alisa Jiminez, David Evangelista, Patrick McDonald, Nigel Barker, and more.
So I arrived at the Maritime Hotel's Hiro Lounge promptly at 10 p.m. so as not to miss any of my favorite reality TV stars. I didn't need to see everyone on the list; just Christian, Nigel Barker and Tim Gunn. CONTINUED »
Editor
