Strollerderby : cookie magazine

As the Cookie Crumbles: Crabmommy Goes Bye-Bye

Madeline Holler — Mon, 06 Apr 2009 18:01:00 GMT

Bad news, Cookie readers: Crabmommy is gone. A result of hard economic times, the magazine's blogger, who crabbed at smug mommies, family dinners and even a mom who likes her kid," was laid off.

At the same time, editors launched a new food blog. So instead of easing your frustrations with a mom who has been there, you can gorge on braised shortribs and vegetable croquettes. Fair trade? Hmmmm. In any case, we'll miss Crabmommy (though you can still read her personal blog, where her rants against Mormons, Octomom and vaccine opponents will be published unfiltered).

Now, onto the printed page of this month's Cookie!

One of the rants we -- and many readers -- launch into when thumbing through Cookie is focused on all the freaking expensive featured products. Three hundred dollar sweaters for 4-year-olds, nurseries that cost more than a year's worth of mortgage payments, family vacations you'll never, ever take. So this month's editor's note was interesting. There, Pilar Guzman talks about how punk she was when she was pregnant. She didn't giggle at baby showers. She didn't go to the high-end baby boutiques to stock the baby's room. Even when the nesting urge kicked in to high gear, we don't get the impression she went all high-modern to get the nursery just so.

Noting this, the pregnancy guide raised our eyebrows. Suggested rocker is nearly $2,000. The bassinet $425. Even the paint is $50 per gallon. And yes, included in the baby's layette is the obligatory cashmere sweater, this one clocking in at $240. Not included in the pregnancy guide is a growth chart and poop stain removal tips, which we think should be printed like a Surgeon General's warning on cigarettes whenever these guides are assembled. Because you'll want to rip your hair out with tiny baby nail clippers the first time Precious has a blowout in her $51 Milleraies of Earth 100 percent-organic romper (white).

There's also plenty to spend on for mom. The front cover promises to show you how to update the mom uniform "from $36." Sadly, those $36 are for Liz Claiborne sunglasses that you should also be pairing with $350 Tory Burch sandals and the Boulevard shopper, Kate Spade's $195 tiny plaid purse. In fairness, editors have also assembled a decent make-up bag plus make-up for only $69. So there's that.

All products are in stock and operators are standing by.

(Where's a plate of braised shortribs when you need them?)

Image: Cooki.com

Should Cookie Magazine Get Killed?

Cole Gamble — Mon, 23 Feb 2009 17:30:00 GMT

Conde Nast, publisher of such household name magazines as Vogue, GQ and Wired recently shuttered it’s moderately successful mag Domino. Now the word is Conde Nast needs to bring the ax down on another low performer. On a possible death row list are Wired, Allure, Details, Gourmet and Cookie magazine – a parenting journal.

Not one to wait around for natural causes, Gawker set up a poll of their readers to see which magazine readers feel least deserves to remain on life support. While Gawker readers came out big for stalwarts such as Wired and Gourmet, they were unmistakable about who should go. According to them, Cookie magazine must die!

Among the choices for Conde Nast’s chopping block, Cookie is the youngest—a rather promising upstart. But is this economy may not be the time to invest in a nascent property. The Gawker poll, however, didn’t ask readers which magazine they found most financially viable. This poll was a popularity contest; a popularity contest in which Cookie came out the ugliest date to the prom.

Now we here at Babble wouldn’t begin to assess the quality of Cookie, we prefer to read a certain on-line parenting journal that begins with a “B” and ends in “abble.” Nonetheless, I personally think it good to have many voices of the new parenting generation out there. But what do you think? Surely some of you have read Cookie. So tell me, does Cookie deserve the knife?

More Cookie Talk:

As the Cookie Crumbles: Losing the Baby Weight is Easy, Fun!

More by this author:

5 Second-Grade Boys Found with Heroin

Woman In Labor Calls Radio Station To Find Husband

Did Salma Hayek’s Breastfeeding an African Child Mean the End of Man’s Inhumanity to Man?

Elizabeth Hasselbeck Thinks Everything (Including Aerial Wolf Killing) is About Abortions (PLUS VIDEO)

10 (Dumb) Ways to Get Pregnant

6 Reasons My Toddler is a Total Buttwipe

As the Cookie Crumbles: Losing the Baby Weight is Easy, Fun!

Madeline Holler — Tue, 03 Feb 2009 15:30:00 GMT

Here's my problem with taking diet and fitness tips from trainers of the stars: how hard could it be to make Gwyneth Paltrow skinny? I mean, she's skinny. Where's the magic? As for whipping Madonna into shape, has she ever NOT been in shape? When you're the personal trainer of these women, you can pretty much mail it in.

And so it is that I'm annoyed with Cookie magazine's February "Smart Cookie/Mother of Invention" Tracy Anderson. We're supposed believe in her because Madonna and Gwyneth pay her to work out with them. And if that's not enough, Anderson herself is a testament to her fitness secrets. Problem is, her personal story is rather frightening:

After inhaling milkshakes and chocolate and packing on 60 pounds during her pregnancy, Anderson followed her own program. She was wearing smaller clothes than ever ... SIX WEEKS LATER.

Maybe I'm in denial -- I'm eight weeks post-partum and still in my fat pants -- but that's 10 pounds a week. If Anderson didn't give birth to a water buffalo and lose 40 pounds overnight, I'm thinking that's some pretty drastic weight loss and the article should include the fine print on Slim Fast ads: results not typical.

Experts? You tell me.

Anderson doesn't exactly share her hot-mom-workout secrets, as the headline promises (Hot Mama Workout," states the cover; "learn the secrets ..." goes the sub-hed). You'll have to get her DVD for details.

Looking back: I was on blogger maternity leave for six weeks -- so corporate! -- and I didn't have a chance to congratulate Cookie on a pretty fabulous December/January issue. I'm totally serious.

On the cover was the lovely and relatable (in print, at least) mom Brooke Shields. She talks about the challenges of living on opposite coasts from her husband, which leaves her as a single mom most of the time. The girls stay with her in New York, where, in addition to going to preschool meetings and tucking them in every night, she shoots her TV series "Lipstick Jungle" [Update: um, delicately put, that juggle just got a whole lot easier. The show has been canceled.] and manages to do one of the worst of all parenting deeds: play My Little Pony with her girls.

The issue's take-away piece is family movie night recommendations, complete with flow chart that combines purpose, dinner and the personality you most resembled in high school to spit out a rental you and the kids will love!

Best of all, there's a reading list of a personal favorite, the fabulously smart and funny and sysiphean Sandra Tsing Loh.

As the Cookie Crumbles: Poverty is for the Rich

Madeline Holler — Wed, 12 Nov 2008 20:02:00 GMT

That Cookie magazine art director has got a real sense of humor. And a finger on the pulse of a bankrupting nation!

The November issue of the parenting magazine features a pictorial documentation of poverty's fashion and accessories, but with a price-tag that, nudge nudge, reassures you're doing juuuuust fine. You don't need to scrimp, save or beg to get by (not in a $1,395 Burberry dress and $995 matching cardigan!).

Using the 70s TV classic "The Waltons" for inspiration, the mag's 10 pages of "Country Classic" fashion are described as "crisp, classic, unadorned clothes that look like they're from another era --".

Yes. That era was called the Great Depression.

Of course, today's country folk are more likely to be wearing Wal-mart leggings. And this new depression is happening to Old Navy bedecked exurbanites. But don't be so literal. Cookie -- and apparently designers -- don't want fashionable families to miss out on all the fun of living in leaner times, saying Grace to the Lord for simple meals and taking turns telling one-another "good night."

A taste of the olden days, through the lens of Cookie: The country family wears simple dresses, wool britches, smock tops and really fancy boots. Check out the boy in Diesel overalls ($149) and girls in Mischen shirtdresses ($435). Don't even think of wearing those to the outhouse! There's also an $85 houndstooth hat from Cole Haan and a $490 D&G classic coat, against which some dunderhead country boy is holding a rooster. If I so much as see a speck of chicken shit on that thing, so help me ...

You know, just because the neighbor's home is in foreclosure and you keep reading about how Christmas is going to be tight this year, "Country Classic" makes it clear that the nation's recession/depression isn't just for the financially over-extended. Even you, who wouldn't flinch at sending your girl to school in a $223 La Garconne vest and a $340 Michael Stars mini (in the top pic), can look the part of dirty-eating, depression-era mountain people.

Poverty sure is cute.

(Oeuf Isa dress, $82 and Ivory slip, $52 -- that's a $134 ... so much as snag that slip on the stump and Pa's getting the strap!)

As the Cookie Crumbles: The Disheveled Family Rescue Plan

As the Cookie Crumbles: A Taste of the High-Calorie Mag

Babble Best: Piggy Banks

Babble: The Economy Issue

Financial Advice From Kids

Photos: Cookie magazine

Like Your Kids? Don't Be So Smug!

Madeline Holler — Thu, 16 Oct 2008 20:57:00 GMT

Crabmommy? You lost me on this one.

I usually love Cookie magazine blogger Crabmommy's diatribes regarding rude mommies. She calls out moms who register for their children's birthday parties, she rolls her eyes at unsolicited advice. Crabmommy is just old-fashioned enough to remind you that you're not the only one who actually raises your voice and says "no" to your kids.

But her take on one mom's response to a compliment -- a compliment about said mom's child -- is just weird.

Here's the egregious scene Crabmommy had to endure:

Today I encountered a delightful, impish toddler at the grocery checkout. When I complimented the mom on her charming little daughter she responded with "Yup, we got a good one."

The offending statement? "Yup, we got a good one." Apparently, it's not gracious to acknowledge that you like your kid and are, indeed, fortunate. You're actually being smug.

Here's my question: what's the mom supposed to say? "Thanks"? But what does that mean? Isn't "thanks" redirecting the compliment about her child to herself?

Or should the mom have responded as women have long been trained to: "Nice dress!" "Oh, this old thing?" "You look great!" "Thanks, but check out this nasty muffin top!"

I can recall responding to compliments for my good-natured babies with stuff like, "oh, she has her moments," probably fearing exactly such a response, that I'd be thought of as boastful. When the kids got older, I realized they could hear the compliments -- and my response -- and running them down in the name of manners was just ... counterproductive? False? Weird? So I'm sure I responded with my own version of "Yep, we got a good one" more than once. Should I really have put strangers' feelings before my kids'?

How do you respond to compliments directed at your kids? Should the impish girl's mom have simply smiled? Said "yours too!"? Said "nahh, it's all an act, she's a complete asshole at home"?

What's rude about acknowledging you agree with the compliment, especially one aimed at a third party (not you, not the compliment-giver, but your kid)? And what's with complimenting children as if they're not there anyway? Next time, may I recommend that Crabmommy look right at the kid and say "hey, you're neat!" Leave the mom out of it.

Photo: publicradio.org

As the Cookie Crumbles: The Disheveled Family Rescue Plan

Madeline Holler — Mon, 06 Oct 2008 18:00:00 GMT

I guess what's missing when the husband and I take our girls out is a "cohesive family look." What with the heat sensitive husband always in shorts, the cold sensitive older child in a hooded jacket, the color insensitive younger one in mix-and-not-match colors and patterns and me, mostly in jeans and a kicky top (usually clean). We've never thought of ourselves in that Von Trapp "we'll look good on stage" way. Once, we all accidentally wore green shirts to a picnic and felt a little on the silly (and/or Amish) side.

As usual when it comes to style, though, I was mistaken. The goal is to dress alike, especially mothers and daughters.

Thank goodness for the October issue of Cookie magazine. They tackle the challenges of raising a child as an accessory and give you plenty of ideas for ensuring your kids never come up with their own ideas on what to wear.

Let's start with this month's big event: Halloween. To get you out of your "lame" witch hat habit, you are encouraged to coordinate family costumes. So, if your son is dressing as Sherlock Holmes this year (what? Yours isn't begging you for a houndstooth cloak?), you need to go as Dr. Watson. Orange cat outfit for the little one? Focus all attention back to you and shimmy into a black shift and pearls. You're a dead ringer for Holly Golightly!

The monkey kid (looking less than thrilled with his round ears and peeled banana -- "but mooooommmmm! I want to be a Transformer!" ... "Shut up and get cohesive, son!") will be a perfect sidekick to your Man with the Yellow Hat idea. There's also Tinkerbell/Captain Hook and Bucket of Chicken/Colonel Sanders pairings. Cute, sure -- and you're the star of this show!

Wait, whose Halloween is it?

Next in mini-me stylings is the "Separated a Birth" section, this time with winter coats. Gorgeous wool coats for kids should match your own gorgeous wool coat (remember: cohesion). My favorite pairing? Mom's taupe tie-neck coat from H&M ($129) and a kid's Dominique Rouzier "recital coat" for $450 (oh, she'll wear it all the time!). That's the sign of a truly cohesive family unit -- a mother who shops discount so her daughter can wear couture.

So many lessons.

Oh, the shambles that is my uncoordinated, uncloaked family unit!

As the Cookie Crumbles: A Taste of the High Calorie Magazine

Photo: Cookiemag.com

As the Cookie Crumbles: A Taste of the High-Calorie Mag

Madeline Holler — Tue, 16 Sep 2008 14:27:00 GMT

Cookie magazine has the same trappings of a women's fashion magazine with a few notable differences: the beautiful models/actresses on its front cover don't pout (they smile and hold babies), the tips are about efficient parenting instead of efficient orgasming, sex stories are for marrieds not singles, and the under $20 lists are for kiddie birthday presents instead of make-up.

What you still get from this woman's glossy (aimed at mothers) is a punctured self-esteem, a sinking suspicion the rest of the world (and their kids) are happier than you (and your kids), and that you're the one frump in the world who thinks of clothes in terms of practicality.

Starting with September, the first issue of our re-upped subscription and the Back-to-School one to boot, we're going to nibble at some empty Cookie calories in our monthly feature "As the Cookie Crumbles."

Grab a glass of milk, we'll dig right in:

This month, we like the throwback birthday party games. And some of the lunch packing ideas too. (Sidenote: no matter how easy the pasta omelet may be, eggs smell, uh, suspicious when unpacked from a sealed lunch box. Just don't.) Also, we'll take book recommendations anywhere, anytime and Cookie has many.

But the clothes. Yes, those clothes! So beautiful! So impish! So, so, so impractical!

The timeless classics featured in the mag's first-day-of-Kindergarten piece, "They Might Be Giants," are endearing and cute for sure. But more honest to label them "back-to-the-portrait-studio," or "back-to-Maddox's-exclusive-birthday-party" than something they might actually wear around paint, clay and unsupervised scissor use. The fabrics and prices and styles would make you dress your kid and keep her at home, lest one Little Marc Jacobs outfitted beauty snag her $150 bramble-tweed top on a sticks-and-wire model of The Giving Tree.

And, yes, we're all about gender-bending and spectrums and just letting boys be boys (or boys be girls ... whatever feels right!) ... but we're confused by the Happy Man blouse ($77) on the androgenous kid model (p. 150, pictured at left). S/he's cute, don't get me wrong. And the red tights are OK, but uncomfortable. Still, question: this isn't a boy's outfit, is it? Because unless Henry is getting homeschooled, he's going to get his feelings hurt -- not to mention mud all over his brilliant red leather booties ($250). Now whose self-esteem has been punctured?

You know, if you've ever seen a school's lost-and-found box (crate? room?), you know whenever you kiss your babe good-bye, you're also saying a possible farewell to jackets, vests, overshirts and, yes, $245 Burberry cardigans. But that's the practical frump talking.

Photos: Cookiemag.com

A Nation of Wimps

Adrienne Martini — Wed, 30 Jul 2008 14:30:00 GMT

Storytime! Grab your mats and blankies and listen close. Once upon a time, there was a college prof at a large state school who had one of her students corner her after class.

"Professor Martini," the student said, because that was his instructor's name. "Can you move the test on Wednesday?"

"No," said the professor, because she is mean.

"Then can you talk to my mom," the student said, holding his cell phone out. "She thinks that I have too much to study for on Wednesday and need to have something moved."

It's a true story, kids. Scary, isn't it?

But it's a story I keep coming back to when I read pieces about helicopter parenting, like this two-part interview with Hara Estroff Marano, author of Nation of Wimps: The High Cost of Invasive Parenting. Part one is on Crabmommy's Cookie blog. Part two is on Crabmommy's personal site.

I want to wave away all of Marano's points about hypervigilence and invasive parenting. Then I see myself trying to intervene in my kids' lives. And then I have conversations with my college students like the one above. Then I hang my head in shame.

So do you think we're becoming a "nation of wimps?"

Photo credit.

My Heart. It Bleeds.

Adrienne Martini — Wed, 20 Feb 2008 15:31:00 GMT

At first, I assumed "Mommy's Going Out," a column in Cookie magazine, was a joke.

Then, I sorta just hoped it was, because considering the alternatives was giving me a headache.

Then, I realized that Cookie isn't the type of publication to pull an Andy Kaufman-style prank on the reading community and that, no, this Tatiana Boncompagni must be a real person who thinks she has real problems, what with all the black-tie galas and Chanel bags and free Bobbi Brown cosmetics. Boo-hoo, she says, I only go out once a week to fabulous parties and spend the rest of the time with my fabulous family.

Then, I broke out some Google-fu and found out that, indeed, Boncompagni is for real.

Then, I got very, very sad. Not sad that my own life isn't like Boncompagni -- my free bath salts were of the Epsom-and-food-coloring variety -- but sad that such lives exist outside of fiction and that those who live them think their problems can be related to by the rest of us.

"Hello, you've reached Frank, Ellen, Little Annie, Baby Aidan, and our unborn fetus. Please leave a message."

Stefania Pomponi Butler (CityMama) — Mon, 05 Mar 2007 21:01:00 GMT

The March/April '07 issue of Cookie Magazine features a hilarious rant by Sally Schultheiss, a mom who implores parents to stop "itemizing the kids" on the outgoing answering message. She writes:

When did this trend of reciting the entire family tree start? I had to petition my parents just to get mentioned on the answering machine when I was in high school...Have I really "reached" Skylar? I'm sure her APGAR scores were off the charts, but chances are no one is getting through to the lump in the bassinet anytime soon—she has no neck control let alone the ability to get back to me as soon as she can.

We never bothering answering our house phone. We have cell phones, and the people that love us and/or pay us know the number, so our voicemail is configured with the standard outgoing greeting that came with it. Family? Individual? We are telephonically invisible to outside callers. Even if we did change it, I don't think I'd want creepy telemarketers and people trying to collect our money to know our kids' names.

Why do people do this? Schultheiss postulates that maybe it has to do with passive-aggressiveness ("We have kids, would it kill you to ask about them?") or "perfect-family smugness" (an audio Christmas letter) or that it's a big "F You" to the childless. I think a more accurate reason is that people are just so gosh-darn proud of being family that they want the whole world to know about it. Ain't nothing wrong with that.