It would seem that Burt Reynolds has decided to clear out his garage, possibly in order to pay for it—and the rest of his defaulted $15 million home in Florida—resulting in a real treasure trove of Hollywood memorabilia hitting the auction block next week.
An Emmy, a couple Golden Globes, a helmet from The Longest Yard and a few good-looking watches...
Yep, we sifted through Burt’s art, trophies and assorted ephemera to find five great timepieces that you could snag at auction prices.
The Other Pussycat:Esquire reminds us that there’s something about the union of beautiful women and dangerous animals that brings out the suppressed zookeeper in all of us. [Esquire]
Do You Enjoy Laughing at People Fainting?: We didn’t think we did either. [WorldWideInterweb]
Ode to the White Shirt: Unionmade went and made a series of short films devoted to white button-downs—and the films are about as interesting as white button-downs. [Unionmade]
Helen Gurley Brown on Female Sexual Pleasure: If you’re wondering who to thank for those iconic naked images of Burt Reynolds, Marky Mark and Scott Brown, Salon would like to direct your attention to Cosmo editor Helen Gurley Brown. [Salon]
It’s been two years since Andre Agassi shocked the world by admitting that his flowing locks of “image is everything” hair were, in fact, a toupee. And while we’ve battled trust issues ever since, we’ve also gained a lot more respect for gentlemen who successfully pull off (or avoid pulling off, as the case may be) a man wig.
Man’s insecurity about hair loss can be dated back to 1 BC, when the Roman poet Ovid wrote: “Ugly are hornless bulls, a field without grass is an eyesore, so is a tree without leaves, so is a head without hair.” Not the most eloquent poem we’ve ever read, but given the subject matter, a bit of syllabic clumsiness seems apt.
While our suggested course of action in almost every hair-thinning scenario involves a Propecia prescription and a tightly trimmed cut, today we’d like to celebrate, in photos, the five best toupees of all time.
Leading men used to look like, well, leading men: moderate amounts of body hair in appropriate areas and, when the part called for it, moderate amounts of hair elsewhere as well.
Now it seems studio executives only cast protagonists with Bieber-esque hormones (and/or Joan Rivers-esque grooming assistants).
We, like The Hoff, are disturbed by the trend which, regrettably, now appears to be the norm. “Guys used to come to the [Baywatch] set all the time with no chest hair,” Hasselhoff said in a recent interview. “They just looked like drowned rats to me.”