uh, blog content.
Yesterday I unplugged for the entire day and read the only example of chick lit ever to fully engross me: the quite non-fictional Lindsay Moran‘s Blowing My Cover: My Life as a CIA Spy.
And it occurred to me: given that most women buy their own perfume, rather than leave it to some guy, why are there no perfumes that are marketed using the superhero archetype? Or the superagent one? I would totally buy something that made me feel like Supergirl or Emma Peel; in fact, that’s how I choose perfumes: by balancing alluring qualities with kickass ones, which is how I ended up with Chanel #19, Allure, and (in my dreams) Midnight Poison, DKNY Red, and Stella McCartney, all of which can be described as kickass yet fuckable.
Is it related that today I am wearing my cape? I should totally make an indoor cape, for blogging, just to put myself in the right mindset. Why should imaginary people have all the fun?
Seriously.
Also, it keeps the tentacles warm.
raincoaster 
I’m totally with you. I’d buy anything that helped me feel Emma Peel … Oh, sorry … misunderstood that one.
Trivia: According to industry legend she acquired her name during a planning meeting. The success of a female co-lead in the second season had the producers looking for another female co-star.
The word “sexier” was possibly never used. Certainly not on paper. Instead the meeting referred to the show as “needing more male appeal” or “M appeal.”
She certainly was.
Anyway–on the subject, do you feel that the time is right for “Judith Miller: Turd Blossom“?
Good healthy tentickles should be cold and slimy! Unlike Emma Peel.
Yes! Perfumes that conjure up the allure of superheroes and other kick-ass women!
It makes me happy to see you mention Emma Peel. She’s been my idol since I was a teenager. She was the start of my whole quest to find more kick-ass women characters in film and TV.
By the way, was the book good?
The world has had more than enough from Judith Miller: she should just simply crawl away and die. As much as I respect her for sticking it out in jail, her career up to that point was a matter of fucking men and writing down what they told her on the pillow. And she never even slept with first-class men!
Alejna: the book was excellent. It was really engrossing. I must say, she has a typical preppie sense of entitlement and ambition, but she’s likeable and she is a genuinely talented writer. And what a story! It reminded me of my mother, who spent some time in Saudi Arabia living in sin with a CIA operative who ran an illegal casino. I want to grow up to be like that, but I’d have to, you know, grow up.
Also: there’s some blog fodder for you. Kickass perfumes.
Sorry–did I really type “Judith Miller”? Urgh. I did. Musta gotten hold of a bad banana … with a greasy black peel no doubt. So sorry.
Let me rephrase:
“Is the world ready for ‘Valerie Plame: Turd Blossom’?”
I’m really looking forward to that moonshine you have up there, Metro.
You have a cape? Where do you get a cape? I want a cape. A flowing M. Bison cape.
I heartily endorse perfumes that encourage women to dress as Emma Peel. And Wonder Woman. And Erin Gray’s Col. Wilma Deering from Buck Rogers. To the lab!
I have a cape. It’s a lovely red boiled-wool thing with, swear to god, a hood. I should throw away my handbag and just carry a basket with groceries in it, just for the look of the thing.
Wilma Deering wore too much lipstick, though. They all did, back in the Eighties.
I wanted to be a CIA agent when I was in college just for the coat and the hat.
I just went out and bought them. Why wait?