Thursday, May 14, 2009

A brief word about nickels and dimes



As usual, I've got medium-well ... uh, make that medium ... beef with the recently released Hot 100 list from Maxim magazine.

I know not to expect much from magazines that aren't Ebony or Jet (or Latina, for that matter) in this regard. Mostly because it's hard to argue seriously - and earnestly - about things like tastes in food, music or, and especially, members of the opposite sex.

How can I tell you, in all seriousness, that Gwyneth Paltrow can't hold a candle to Taral Hicks? That Audrina Patridge is more of a dime than Padma Lakamishi? (*as an aside, I once had a long-running argument with a friend about whether En Vogue looked better, collectively, than TLC. It got ugly).

People can't really help their preferences, you know? It's the reason I really don't have much to say about Dirk Nowitzki's girlfriend other than, eh, God bless and g'luck.

But alas, here we are.

All too often, for publications like Maxim or the now defunct FHM, their choices among women of color are so clueless that I can't help but think color-blind is a euphemism for people who can't see anything other than alabaster and blonde.

Here's the list and the corresponding rank of the women who would traditionally be considered black or biracial (gah, this is impossible) who made the Maxim 100: Michelle Obama (93); Gabrielle Union (71); Christina Milian (55); Beyonce (52); Ciara (32); Zoe Saldana (29); and Rihanna (9).

That's it.

Now, I'm not going to go through the hassle of coming up with my own list. I'm going to save myself from the futility and frustration. And if I'm being honest with myself, I would have to admit that pre-First Lady, none of these 100 ladies would have been kicked out of my hot tub.

But really, what's the point of a Hot 100 list if it includes Chelsea Handler and leaves out Halle Berry?

Post-script: And if you think this post was partly an excuse to ogle the Maxim pics and include one of Meagan Good, then we're all getting to know each other a little too well.

10 comments:

avery said...

young. you know what we should do?

i don't even need to tell you. you already know what we should do.

starsky & hutch.

blackink said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
blackink said...

You ain't going there ... are you? Do I need to take off the shades? Start playing "Camay"? Break out the Courvoisier? What's the haps?

avery said...

i was just gonna say we should make our own top 100...

butteruh...

KST said...

As a woman, I feel compelled to go on record and state that this entire discussion is sexist and it objectifys women. That said:

Where is Lauren London!? Hello?

blackink said...

@Ave: If you're down, man, I'll give it a shot. That sounds ruff, with a capital F. But let's do it. Just let me know.

@KST: Lol. Sexist, eh? I'll bee dat, I guess. And ask Maxim about Lauren London. I doubt they know she exists.

Jack T. said...

Michelle Obama makes me uncomfortable. She's totally the kind of woman I go for, but recognizing that makes me feel guilty, like checking out your friend's girlfriend's butt.

You guys should get on that list, BI & Ave. I'd be interested in seeing what you'd come up with. I hope it includes Kerry Washington and Candace Parker.

KST said...

@ JT: Why am I the only one pimpn' Lauren London!?
If my family wouldn't disown me - I'd marry her. She's hawt. Shsh... Don't tell anyone I wrote this.

blackwomenblowthetrumpet.blogspot.com said...

Hey there!

I am cracking up that someone had to argue about whether En Vogue was more fly than TLC... Lisa was absolutely stunning...Chili was the usual...and T-Boz was sexy in a real rough-and-tumble sort of way.

Now...En Vogue had it ALL....the sexy, the glamour, the voices, the spicy...

There are some brothas who like the look of a Gwyneth or a Julia...they aren't trying to be sexy so they think that plain is sexy in its own way ...

Umm...I guess...

blackink said...

Hey blackwomen, thanks for checking in. And no doubt, I was definitely on the side of En Vogue.

In fact, my homeboy had the nerve to call me "a white boy" for thinking En Vogue was the better choice. (As you can see, I carry the scars of that argument from '94 with me today).