Mixed messages

"Curtains up! Spring has arrived!"

Or so declared the whimsical vinyl letters posted above the newly merchandised windows at J. Crew.

Even in Los Angeles, where the average daily temperature is above 60 degrees, I can assure you with absolute certainty that not only has Spring not arrived, it hasn't even started packing for its trip.

It's January 8th, people. Neighbors still have Christmas lights up. Resolutions are still carried out with optimism, not ready to be surrendered in shame. Even if I wanted it to be spring, which, let's face it, of course I do, it's not like if I dress the part, the season will catch up with my wardrobe. Last I checked, we have a ways to go.

Of course, if it were spring, that would mean we'd all have had to lost the weight we'd resolved to do, or you'd think we'd resolved to do according to this month's focus in the women's consumer magazines. "Lose Weight!" "Hit Your Happy Weight!" "Get to a Great Weight!" Blach. Fine. What I don't get is how each magazine can preach the same contrary bits of information:

1.) Exercise for 45-90 minutes per day.
2.) Eat dinner before 7 PM, or at least three hours before bedtime.
3.) Get 7-8 hours of sleep every night.

Now, I'm not so good at math. But. Do the majority of working women even walk through the door before 7 PM? Certainly not if they go to the gym after work. I suppose they're expected to go to the gym in the morning, then, but I know I'd have to wake up around 5:30 just to do so, which would mean cutting my sleep back to about 6.5 hours a night. I'm not contesting the information, just the fact that the numbers don't add up, and aren't very realistic for the society we live in.

Speaking of unrealistic, my favorite bit of lose-weight wisdom comes from this month's Vogue: "The easiest diet to follow is one in which every other day, you eat half of what you normally eat." Something about that naturally, permanently, shrinks down fat cells. Except that um, I think that's kind of like Starving. Or, if you are already eating enough that cutting 25% of your intake is safe, I'm guessing - just guessing! - there might be a healthier way to do it.

Interestingly, of all of the January issues I've read so far (about 6), Vogue is the only one with a 12+ page color advertisement from diet drug Alli. Not just an ad, Alli created a 2008 pullout calendar full of useful tips and motivational messages.

My beef (mm, beef!) with this is two-fold. One, the majority of Vogue readers don't need Alli at all, but many could be tempted to try it in the ongoing effort to shrink from a size 2 to a 0. Secondly, unless that's what Alli had in mind - in which case I think they should change their tagline to "Alli is the new Adderall/coke/(insert favorite amphetamine here) - this ad buy seems a bit off.

In an understandable effort to align themselves with the fashion crowd, Alli, with its 12 page overeagerness, comes off as the friendly fat kid who gladly hands over her lunch money in the hopes that cool girl Vogue will like her. Look, I'm buying 12 pages! And I decorated it into a pretty calendar! You have to like me now! Right?

But you know that, when all is said and done, Vogue will just pocket the money, laugh at the joke, and never let Alli near their table in the Conde Nast cafeteria.