It’s such a rarity for me to know the young stars featured in Teen Vogue. So I was thrilled when MILFy Mary-Louise Parker’s angsty TV son, played by Hunter Parrish, got a feature in the mag. Not only do I know who he is but also, well, look at him! He gives us girls some eye candy on Weeds, my favorite TV show right now. Speaking of which, now that the season is over, if any of my gazillion readers have thoughts on what is going to happen next year, send them in and let’s discuss. I’m trying to figure out how anybody but the Botwins can return. Whose got the inside scoop on contracts?

Only Mr. MILF is waaaaay hotter.

Never in a gazillion years did I think I would find anything appealing, much less hot, about Pink Floyd. I even hated them when I smoked pot in college. (Note to The Original MILF: I only fried the right side of my brain.) But Tom Stoppard’s essay on how Pink Floyd’s frontman inspired his new play, “Rock n Roll,” made me reconsider my position. It’s not like I’ve downloaded anything — because I’m really only interested in downloading Rihanna, and I can’t even find time for that — but Stoppard convinced me that Pink Floyd is more conceptually complicated stuff than music for potheads, and it’s thanks to the looker Syd Barrett who, poetically enough, only gets his due posthumously.

But what’s really great about Stoppard’s Vanity Fair story is how he brings you inside his playwriting, storytelling head. I love this:

When you take away everything plays think they’re about, what’s left is what all plays — all stories — are really about, and what they’re really about is time. Events, things happening — Ophelia drowns! Camille coughs! Somebody has bought the cherry orchard! — are different manifestations of what governs the narrative we live in: the unceasing ticktock of the universe.

Vogue Living is such a mess that it’s hard to know where to begin. Let’s start with the motto, “How You Dress, How You Live.” Such promise! I love the idea that your sartorial style informs your interior style. It’s the revolutionary premise of Domino that all the shelter mags, and to a certain extent the fashion mags, is now copying (and which Domino still does best).

VL feels so last-minute slapped-together that it’s shocking it passed Anna Wintour’s muster — or even a lowly associate editor’s. It seems as if any story idea about the lives of rich people was accepted. And it also appears as if any and every home product the market editors found was included too. There’s so much stuff and so much busy-ness in the design — look at that cover! — that it’s impossible to see anything clearly, much less get inspired about incorporating these ideas into your own home.

Even worse, I swear I’ve seen some of these stories before, possibly in Vogue. The family behind Marni? Check. Carolina Herrerra, Jr.’s estancia? Check. I suppose that’s what you get when you force your staff to take on an additional magazine in the regular production cycle. Please, hire some freelancers and give those Voguettes some time to spruce up their apartments. I can’t bear to write such scathing commentary again.