In the Year of the Woman, New York Magazine appears to have forgotten all about us. For the second consecutive issue, I haven’t a whit of interest in anything in the entire book. One week of nothing can be a relief. But two weeks of nothing is depressing, all the more so because these two issues are all about boy stuff, and this boy world blows. Last week’s “Manic-Depressive Economy” issue was all about the men who fucked up, and whose jobs and psyches are impacted by all the fucking up, with zilch about how the crisis will affect women’s precarious position within the industry — although there was an insulting Intelligencer piece this week about one hausfrau who will have to do without new kitchen countertops. Also, this week: a jinx of an article about an Obama presidency; something about the Knicks; something else about the Yanks; and a piece about Billy Elliot hopefuls, which can’t qualify as girly because so many straight men actually liked the movie. Best Bets is about boy hoodies — even though we are the spenders — and the In Season recipe is for pasta — even though we are the cooks and New York women all know better than to serve pasta after 5pm, although some husbands may suddenly be home for dinner at that hour. Next week I want lots of hot-pink power suits and a trashy celebrity story. Thanks! XO

If you are going to the Resurrection auction at Christie’s London this afternoon, please consider buying this Norma Kamali parachute dress and donating it to me. I promise Mr. MILF and I will learn the flamenco, and I’ll wear it to all the hot clubs in Miami. I’ll send pics. TiA! XO

Store openings are the new rock concerts, and when that store is Marc Jacobs in Paris, it’s Beatlemania. While some may bemoan this state of affairs, Marc Jacobs deserves credit for setting up a type of community that mimics the Grateful Dead at its height. Even if music seems like a more noble pursuit around which to gather, a concert is a retail experience too. Both also fill the vacuum left by uninspired political leadership. We all want to feel part of something, and right now Marc Jacobs’ world is that thing. Whether that’s good or bad, I’m not sure, but Suzy Menkes, in this breathlessly fun video at the store’s opening, says the prices will make you swoon. As in five-euro boots and 15-euro scarves kind of swooning. It’s brilliant recession proofing. As for the swan, is that symbolic of Marc’s transformation from shlub to sculpture? I’m thinking, j’adore.

Is it me, or did the Business section of yesterday’s New York Times read like one big obit for old media? From David Carr’s Cliff’s Notes: The Christian Science Monitor will cease publishing a paper. Time Inc., is cutting 600 jobs. And Gannett is laying off 3,000 people. You’d think bloggers like me would be cheering but au contraire. Curling up with a computer is not my idea of comfort. And without old media doing all its dumb old-media stuff, I won’t have much to write about. More symbolically, Burberry is moving into New York Magazine’s former building on Madison Avenue — and replacing the iconic “New York” sign! It’s as if the city and our media-capital status have been taken down in a single swipe by the pansy of British fashion. This is so much worse than the combined effects of Barclay’s buyout of Lehman, Rupert Murdoch’s takeover of The Wall Street Journal, and the Putnam, Powell and Lowe acquisition of Sterling Cooper.