Our Photo Project is seeing a lot of ladies and loving each and every one of you.  Especially Kate Harding, Lauren, Rose, and Susan, all of whom just came on board.  And you?  When are you joining this party?

Submit your photos and captions here. We're looking for insights into the fucked-up world of us and our bodies, in the hope that maybe we can get to a zen place about the whole damn thing. 

Oh no, we're going for the ink. You know what they say about a guy who has big feet, right?  And who knew that Shaggy had a last name?

• Fred Flintstone
• "Shaggy" Rogers
• Speed Racer

There's a difference, as it turns out, between wanting to be adventurous and actually having those adventures. Especially when they take place at 7:00 a.m. Give me an adventure that starts at noon, or better yet, four in the afternoon, and we are golden. I am the most adventurous person you ever met, and I might even get there five minutes early, that's how adventure-loving I am. And then I will be bright-tailed and bushy-eyed and you will be so impressed with my enthusiasm and go-getter attitude you might even give me a medal of some sort. One of those gold-wrapped chocolate ones, for preference.

This adventure, the yoga class I was a little afraid to take but very excited about, started at 7:00 a.m., but I thought it would be okay. 6:00 a.m., that's not too early a time to get up, is it? Well, of course it is. It is a ridiculous hour to even be alive and breathing with your eyes open, and what are you thinking, gym scheduling people? But sometimes, you have to make sacrifices for adventure and sometimes those sacrifices are totally the equivalent of drowning heroic rescue golden retriever puppies in Jell-O. I really hate getting up early.

She's Probably Frigid: Add Kelly Brook to the nauseating subset of celebrities who really think we believe this "Oh, I eat whatever I want and don't really have to work at staying slim. Now I'm off to eat another Big Mac!" shit. Seriously, bitch please, save it for Billy Zane.

Bergdorf Goodbuy: The Olsen twins have launched their affordable fashion line called Elizabeth and James (after their brother and sister, how sweet). It's so affordable that we're going to snatch up at least three of the $1,000 jackets, and maybe a few dozen $90 T-shirts!

Smell My Feet: This Halloween, don't be the house that gives sucky candy like Smarties or Tootsie Rolls, hook up your ghosts and goblins with the hottest candy and they might just think you're the most awesome adult around.

Take That, Swanson: Love Thomas Keller's cooking but can't wait two months for a reservation at French Laundry? His cuisine is coming to a microwave near you. Somewhere, Julia Child just did a triple gainer in her grave.

Caveman Chic: We see a lot of batshit crazy things walk down the runways, and here's a nice synopsis of all that's fit to not wear from London's Fashion Week. But hey, maybe the unibrow is making a resurgence?

Like You Needed a Reason: Guess what's making our kids fat this week? You're not going to believe it. Seriously, though, ditch the Crocs unless you're a gardener or a TV chef. They are the fugliest shoes in all of creation and are going to be the acid-washed jean of the Aughts. (via BigFatBlog)

Weighty Matters: Just once, we'd like to list our weight on our driver's license as "Hulk Hogan."

Photo Credit: Splash

I am in third grade and already have breast buds that my mother's boyfriend has decreed are because I like to eat too much. This one--Andy--fresh from Vietnam, spends his nights working as a bartender and his days either hung over or painting pictures with muddy oils: mostly nude women who look vaguely like my mother but thinner and with smaller, pointier breasts, but my mother tells everyone that we must forgive him because he is still a little shell-shocked. I spend hours after school riding around on my bike, avoiding the tiny duplex with two bedrooms, a closet-sized room shoved with matching twin beds that is mostly the domain of my 3-year-old sister. It smells like pee. If I am not watching Battle of the Planets or laying on the cool concrete floor of the basement creating elaborate plots with Fisher-Price Little People, I am outside, riding my dark green Schwinn.

Through a lot of dark transference over unresolved issues with having left our farm in the middle of the night--amidst my stepfather screaming and my mother crying, and then learning later that we would never go back and that my pony Nakayah had been sold, along with all of our pets and animals--I have daydreams that echo the plot of Michael Martin Murphy's Wildfire. I dream of running away after my pony and then being tragically lost to a killing frost. The Schwinn becomes my surrogate horse.

Even Wendy McClure has participated in Our Photo Project, and she's a blogger, an author and a Bust columnist, for crying out loud. If she can submit her photos, you definitely can, too.

E-mail your photos and your captions here.

Not only did I take a Pilates class and not die (though kind of, I wanted to), I am going to take a yoga class, and I fully expect to not die there, either (though I might want to). My gym has lots of classes at lots of hours, and I've spent a lot of time busily downloading class schedules and drawing up plans and figuring out my own schedule into which I will work my new impulse towards bettering my physical fitness. I liked Pilates very much (even though I wanted to die); when I noticed that they also have double handfuls of yoga classes of every flavor every single day, I thought: Well, why wouldn't I like yoga? It will be a yoga/Pilates death match! I thought. May the better exercise class win! Or--maybe I will go crazy, and take both.

Maybe I have gone crazy. There are worse ways to be crazy. I could be buying a lot of drugs, or spending a lot of time at the bottom of a whiskey glass, or spending all my money on loose women with questionable morals, and shoes. Maybe I should stop spending so much money on shoes. Exercise, that is a good thing to spend a lot of time thinking about and planning for and actually doing, sometimes to the detriment of a decent night's sleep and sometimes at ungodly hours of the morning that should not exist. Though to be fair, I would sleep 12 hours a day, by preference, and rise around noon and not get dressed until around, say, 2:00, and only then because I want to go get a latte. So I am exaggerating. A bit. Which is so unlike me. But it still very weird to be giving up sleep in favor of doing something I used to be terrified of doing.

Too Sexy For the Catwalk: Model Jen Hunter just may have made the most strategic career move possible last year by refusing to lose weight in order to please the judges of the British show, Make Me a Supermodel. We don't know how well she's doing with fashion Mafiosos but we stand up and say hells yes!

Booty Patrol: The anti-size zero backlash has officially begun, and now folks like Amy Winehouse or Angelina Jolie are reaching for some artificial enhancements to plump up their missing behinds. We may pop on a pair the next time we have to sit through our next interminable state of the business conference call, as we suspect it might prevent unfortunate "plank ass."

Boobs Were Very Chic Back Then: We must be too young to remember when Cosmopolitan essentially had softcore Playboy spreads in it, but who knew in 1977 it was still flattering to be called "plump"?

File Under No Thanks: We don't know which sounds worse, banana mayonnaise or collagen soup.

Proof That We're In the End Times: The latest fitness craze? Personal trainers...for preschoolers. The hell? We always thought that was called "recess."

Because We Like Food: Ever find a dessert that is so delicious you want to rub it all over your body, even your tingly bits? Check out these yummy-looking cakes and desserts that last a moment on the hips and never hit your lips.

The Comments Want to Know: Who is your curvy inspiration?

I have the Frenchies quaking in their Louboutin boots at this Southern twist on a Gallic classic. My clafouti is lightened with milk instead of cream and is baked in my trusty cast-iron skillet instead of in an expensive enamel dish. With this dessert, we're sticking to our budgets AND our good, healthy habits. One small slice and your sweet tooth is all smiles. --Brooke Parkhurst

After reading the Elle interview with Reese Witherspoon, we have to admit, we think a little less of her.

If you can pick up the ginormous September issue of W, you must flip to and read the compelling interview with former First Lady Nancy Reagan. No matter what your politics are, she certainly elevated the fashion conscience of America.

Leave it to Martha to create a posh cocktail party menu that is making us covet an invite. If you copy her dill cucumber martini at your soirée, will you promise to invite us?

Self has snagged Buffy the Vampire Slayer for their latest issue and SMG still continues to inspire us to dust some demons with a spectacular roundhouse kick. And also, donate to charity. She's so well-rounded.

The crafty folks at ReadyMade want us to come up with a creative use for all those Mase CDs we haven't  played since we were trying to get a party started in 1997. Okay, we have one Mase CD.

Need ideas for Halloween costumes? InStyle is dishing out the Halloween costumes of the celebrities. We wonder if your grandma is going to be able to whip some of these out on her Singer.