The female anatomy

It’s a cycle, these girls in mothers’ dresses, powdering on noses, building empires and sewing handbags to put their names on. The jeans are passed down, tried on, brought in or out at the seams, whatever happens to be in fashion.

Ink has long been spilt on this ilk, on blogs and newsprint gossip pages. They’ve held their heads at that thirty-five degree angle since glass has been cut into lenses. One day soon they’ll push strollers, too, buy black dresses to mourn in.

There’s a certain breed of girl who dreams of becoming Lauren Conrad, he wrote. And he’s told, in the college he goes to, another breed of blonde, who spends her nights flicking through Facebook, dreaming of becoming Jaclyn Genovese.

So it continues.

*All of this, and these other thoughts, I guess, so much to tell you: There's an article I wrote on the girls at the boutique Jacflash, stars of their webby reality show, Jaclife, in the Vancouver Sun.