I mean, really, why? No Cosmo, no Redbook, no Family Circle. What in the hell is wrong with a) Lauren’s publicists (answer: probably nothing, they just can’t their feets in the Conde Nast doors), b) Warners’ publicists (answer: they’ve got too many shows and movies to worry about one critically acclaimed, drop-dead gorgeous actress) and c) the dumbass editors of these dumbass magazines? I mean, who the hell wants to see French Capital Hotel spread her legs *again?* And come on, 87 billion covers of Jennifer Aniston is gilding the frickin’ lily — the frickin’ beautiful lily, albeit — but still, twenty of those covers could be taken from the artificial Vaughniston soap opera, given to Lauren Graham (thereby making all of us who are *starving* for Graham and Gilmore information darn skippy) and the magazines would *still* selll like hotcakes. Because we wuvs us our Lauren Graham. Really, we do. That’s why Bad Santa is two years old and yet to be in the bargain basement of titles at your local Tarzhay.
So here’s an idea I’d like to see Vanity Fair do: Lauren posing in an parody of VF’s French Capital Hotel cover, where the useless heiress was wearing jodhpurs and pretty much nothing else. And I can see the headline for the cover: “Who’da Thunkit? This Gal Loves Horses!”
And she’s got the interesting upper-class social life that Vanity Fair loves to cover. And she’s not blonde. And she didn’t violate SEC Laws. What a novelty that cover would be!