I mean, you could challenge me to a "Mad Men"-off, but you would lose. Yeah, it's just that deep. So, imagine my surprise (and disappointment) when I saw the new cover of GQ with January Jones? As American media argued over whether her decolletage was real or enhanced, I was busy being charmed by the accompanying interview with the actress which reveals a down-to-earth stunner. Beer...football...MidWest-roots...serious comedic chops: yeah, we would most def. be friends. But then, I got a gander at the photospread, and like I get it: I'm not GQ's target audience, but these "sexy" pics of January are so staged, so uncomfortable I can't imagine anyone going ape-shit over the buxom BLonde. A truism for the ages: a woman forced into a position of sexual humiliation/exploitation will NOT be a happy subject to shoot. Sorry, Terry (Richardson). Oddly, the pics that DIDN'T make the mag are wayyyyyy sexxxier (yes, three x's!!!): Jim (Nelson), you should know better. Looks like someone needs a new consultant to come on board of that masthead. Holler at your girl.
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