1. Notice hemline on Finnish fashion blog.

2. Cut hemline into all thrifted skirts.

3. See hemline on five other ladies at SXSW.

4. Receive reports that this hemline is on every lady at the Rose Bowl flea.

5. Slowly begin to phase hemline out of regular rotation.

6. See three versions in Urban Outfitters catalog.

7. Give away all skirts with this hemline.

8. See it touted as "the new hemline" in J.Crew catalog.

9. See it for sale at Target. In jersey knit.

10. See it on every other lady on the street.

11. Repeat.

Mullet hem is at phase 5. Sad to see you go, mullet hem. We had some good times.

The year was 2012. Women were basically just hanging out.

You know, doing lady stuff.

We'd gotten used to the fact that, for decades, people have been trying to tell us what to do.

That we should pay attention to our ticking biological clocks, lest we become dried-up old spinsters.

That we should/shouldn't/should settle and marry a dude who sucks. 

That we're a drag on society if we choose to have babies without marrying, but that abortion is objectively wrong (well, except in cases when some dudes say it isn't), so we can't choose if and when and how to have one. You know, for our own protection.

When it comes to diversifying the bylines that appear in national thought-leader magazines, I've long advocated we target editors. Sure, women pitch less. But most pieces, especially those written by freelancers in influential national magazines, are not assigned on the basis of cold pitches. Editors have an idea, or the outline of an idea, for a particular issue, and we reach out to an experienced writer in our personal network to report and write it. If such a writer doesn't leap to mind, we'll survey the landscape. Which other journalists are writing about this stuff in our competing publications, in niche media, in slightly smaller venues? We ask other editors who they'd recommend for the assignment. 

According to the latest Vida numbers, women aren't thought-leaders.

I did a byline count for the three issues of GOOD that I've been responsible for as executive editor. My professional network is mostly women, our editors are mostly women, and it's always seemed to me like I disproportionately assign to women writers. But I was wrong. GOOD has published 25 women and 25 men. In 2012, it's still astoundingly easy to conflate mere parity with female domination. Proud to be in your company, Granta.

A friend recently said to me, of another friend's photography: "She's so talented!"

This was, of course, meant as the highest of compliments. She makes such great photos, and she makes it look easy. 

It's not easy. This woman has quit her job and moved to a wretched town and gone into debt and clocked countless hours focusing on her craft, sharpening it. To call it talent is to erase these sacrifices. To call it talent is to erase her debt, her hours, her choice. This is not the result of natural aptitude. This is the opposite of a gift.

I can't wait to say I knew her when. I can't wait to say I knew her during. Because soon all anybody's going to see is the finished product, which is beautiful but not as beautiful as the process.

The supper club is "an American dining establishment generally found in the Upper Midwestern states of Wisconsin, Minnesota, and Michigan." Ahem, and Iowa and Illinois. "These establishments typically are located on the edge of town in rural areas. They were traditionally thought of as a 'destination' where patrons would go to spend the whole evening, from cocktail hour to enjoying night club style entertainment after dinner."

For every milestone birthday, anniversary, graduation, Easter, Monther's Day, or funeral in my family, there is usually a meal at Timmerman's Supper Club in East Dubuque, Illinois. A review:

“I’m looking for the absolute strongest journalists for these positions, and looking for what will be best for The New York Times,” said Abramson. “I don’t care about the element of surprise. Doing my job is not a public performance. ‘Oooooh, I want the news to be received with surprise!’ That is not something I pay attention to.”

NEW YORK — A few months ago, GOOD magazine executive editor Ann Friedman and Mother Jones editors-in-chief Clara Jeffery and Monika Bauerlein went out to dinner in San Francisco. It was, in Jeffery’s words, a “very womanly dinner.”

Once the waitress came around to take drink orders, Friedman made the great faux pas of ordering a whiskey.

“I was like ‘Girl! What? You want that straight?’” said Jeffery, who ordered a margarita with salt.

Sh-t talk began. Bauerlein had ordered a white wine.

“We were giving Ann a hard time because she wanted a, quote-unquote, ‘serious man-drink’ to start off the meal,” Bauerlein said with a giggle. “She got a lot of grief from us.”