Dear Madonna,

Now that you’re getting divorced again (sigh), ambitious women everywhere want to know if power broads are doomed to singledom — and Jezebel makes a pretty good case for the affirmative. That’s why we really, really, really need you to prove everybody wrong with your next relationship. So, might I make a suggestion? After you’ve had your fun with some boy-toys and oligarchs, get a guy who can and will kick your ass on a regular basis. I don’t mean abuse, of course. I mean someone who is going to dish out as much as you give, and make the verbal sparring a good time for you too. Now, I understand your industry is populated with a bunch of pussies at the moment, but I’ve got an idea for you: Billy Bob Thornton. He was waaaay too much for even man-eating Angelina to handle — look at the pussy she plucked next — but you could manhandle Billy Bob, and he would return the favor. Plus, he would get you back to L.A., and with the way you’re looking these days — matronly blond hair, Botoxed face, muscley muscles — you are so L.A.! And the Sean Penn period was so underrated. Let me know when I should make the call. I’ll take care of Tea.

Air kisses!
Magazine MILF

Everybody is crazy about Balmain and even crazier about the prices. As in, $1,400 for a pair of jeans — jeans! — and $15,000 for a beaded jacket. This is not couture! Cathy Horyn describes the numbers as “offensive,” her Times colleague Eric Wilson points out that a $1,500 t-shirt is distinguished only by “artfullly placed holes,” The Cut resourcefully considers trading its apartment for a jacket, and Blogue laments Balmain’s lack of recession friendliness, as if that’s the point of this kind of fashion anyway. What blows me out is how young the girls who must have Balmain appear to be. Of course, that’s who the clothes are made for, but these are not celebrity borrowers; they are 22-year-olds who own — own! — $22,000 evening dresses! That is the starting salary for an assistant at Conde Nast, and I bet there is at least one who owns several. If anybody knows who she is, please tell. I need to get on her hand-me-down list ASAP.

The results of Us Magazine’s red-carpet reader contests usually flummox me. But this week the majority got it right, and the fashion folk were deservedly the biggest losers, what with the unhealthy hair and poor fit that come with too-skinny girls wearing samples. That pin-thin Kelly Ripa fills out her Marc Jacobs better than Sofia Coppola is ridick. That anyone, much less Emma Watson, rocks an Alexander McQueen off Naomi Campbell is heartbreaking. That Natalia Vodianova looks like she’s wearing her grandma’s Gucci and Madonna is channeling Klute for 1998, well, Jennifer Lopez could care less: She is en fuego!

I don’t envy Angelina Jolie’s looks, talent, celebrity or possession of Brad Pitt. (I admit, the maternity wardrobe makes me wet.) What I do envy is the absence of angst in her expectation that acting will “play a diminishing role in her life,” according to a Sunday Times profile, whose title alone — “Master of Her Mommy Track” — induces major mommy envy. While most ambitious career women feel anything but the master once kids come along, Jolie appears unafflicted by such demons. True, she doesn’t need the money. Also true, she’s won an Oscar and proved herself box-office gold. Also, also true, her extracurriculars include such exercises in feel-good fulfillment as a UN goodwill ambassadorship. But still. So much of how we define ourselves is via career, and celebrities have the added burden of spotlight validation. Yet Jolie seems disinclined to retain those things at the expense of time with her kids. Whether Brad Pitt feels similarly about his career, well, he has neither the Oscar nor the professional respect, nor, for that matter, the terrific wardrobe: I mean, what is up with the Panama Jack drug-dealer look? In any event, I need to know how to achieve Angelina’s Zen-like state, where family and philanthropy are the cornerstones and career is a fun something for when I need some sizzle. I am envisioning a series of inspirational DVD’s in which Angelina is the next Jane Fonda!