Several of the catalogs I love to order from are now promoting the fact that they no will not Photoshop or retouch the images of their models. While I should be all, " yay for natural beauty !" I am, in point of fact, thoroughly bummed. This means that the dewy-faced girls with all the golden freckles and tousled locks in those sports bras are, I am to believe, actually that gorgeous. Whereas before, I could plausibly believe that those six pack abs had been digitally re-mastered, cellulite smoothed with the Bandage tool, and lanky shins artificially un-scarred. No more! Usually, when you meet someone model-gorgeous in person, you can pick out their flaws to see that they, too are human: they're an ugly crier, or their penmanship is horrible, or they're a low-information voter, or their cuticles are in terrible condition. But, caught in a moment of sheer, well-lit photography, all you can see is: God just wanted to make sure you know that life is just that dam...