Thursday, June 01, 2006

Anderson Cooper reminds why I love Vanity Fair

In the past decade, I have had a secret, on-again, off-again love affair with Vanity Fair. Here's how it usually goes: I stumble upon a copy of it during my daily routine, and leaf through it to find the latest and greatest Annie Leibovitz or Herb Ritts (RIP) photograph of the most intriguing celebrity, politician, or "other" of the hour. At that moment, usually the gene that makes me a rabid US Magazine reader kicks in...and I read the article associated with the person of the hour. I'm always intrigued. almost always impressed.

but then i get sucked in.

i read the article before...the article after....graydon carter's editorial note...and the vanities...oh the vanities!!! and the...the piece de resistance...which i always save for the end...the proust questionnaire (not to be confused with the pivot questionnaire--possibly the best reason to watch Inside the Actors' Studio as well).

then, in a stupor of journalistic, gossipy, dramatic excellence...I subscribe.

my subscription lapses 12 months later.

rinse and repeat.

This month...it was Anderson Cooper. The juiciest of the juicy...the dreamiest of the dreamy...the most heroic of the heroes. The cover story is less journalism, more memoir excerpt. Tells the story of the poor little rich boy Anderson--son of, not only a Vanderbilt, but a Vanderbilt who made waves in the perfume, makeup, decor, and denim worlds, brother to a tragic, brooding young Vanderbilt Cooper...who threw himself off a balcony in 1988. More importantly, it tells the story of Anderson Cooper--cold, barricaded Anderson Cooper--who, like the rest of us, lived the images of a Hurricane ravaged Gulf Coast and saw, in the heart of humanity, tragedy and beauty to mirror his own.

In disasters, in war, it isn't governments that help people, at least not early on. It's individuals: policemen, doctors, strangers, people who stand up when others sit down. There were so many heroes in this storm, men and women who grabbed a bandage, an axe, a gun, and did what needed to be done.

Need I explain why, this afternoon, I subscribed to Vanity Fair?

Oh...and, in case you're wondering....Ron Howard's motto is "Panic is not our friend."

Fix your jones for a tempting and satisfying reading material @ vanityfair.com...or buy dispatches from the edge

Posted by sarah t. at 11:50 AM




5 Comments

  1. Blogger Liel Leibovitz posted at 8:47 PM  
    "Vanity Fair" is stupid. The Proust questionnaire is stupid, all the more so as it is administered by people who've never read Proust to people who've never even heard of him. And Anderson Cooper is stupid, too. I say Eric Mortensen (of the Fresno Mortensens) is much more of a hero.
  2. Blogger sarah t. posted at 9:55 AM  
    Proust is a real person? Huh. I thought this was just a list of Graydon Carter's favorite small-talk questions.
  3. Blogger Eric Mortensen posted at 9:57 AM  
    i'm not sure vanity fair wants to hear from the loudmouths who read proust...i know i don't.
  4. Blogger sarah t. posted at 4:28 PM  
    why i love gawker:
    Tonight. Union Square Barnes & Noble. 7 PM. You. Anderson. 360 degrees of lust.
  5. Blogger the dame posted at 10:17 AM  
    Ok, clearly liel is not aware that Proust did not write the "Proust questionnaire". The questionnaire is based on two different ones that Proust himself filled out first at age 13 and later at the age of 20, with what some people consider noteworthy results; i.e. One does not need to have read Proust in order to appreciate a party game that he himself simply participated in as a youth.

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