I finally have proof there’s no Santa Claus, guys, because the one thing I wanted in my stocking this Christmas officially won’t be there. I was hoping to wake up on Christmas morning to find a big, fat rolled-up copy of Vanity Fair in there, with at least twelve glossy pages of Gwyneth Paltrow exposé waiting for me to feast my eyes on it. But now, after suspecting it for weeks, we hear that that’s officially not happening.
How could you get my hopes up like this, Graydon Carter, editor-in-chief of Vanity Fair? How could you let me speculate for weeks on what could possibly have worked Gwyneth into such a tizzy, only to drop enough hints to reporters to make me think that I was going to spend my holiday season gleefully reading about a rumored affair between Gwyneth and Elle Macpherson‘s husband Jeff Soffer, a Miami billionaire and friend of the family?
And after all that excitement, to let Gwyneth infiltrate your inner circle and get you to tone down the story by wielding her mighty George Clooney weapon in your face? And even after that, Graydon Carter, after all that, to cancel the story entirely? This is the opposite of a Christmas miracle, Graydon Carter, and you are the opposite of Santa Claus. According to a source speaking to Us Weekly:
“Gwyneth and Graydon spoke on the phone a few weeks ago. They worked out some of their differences. There may be a story, but it won’t be as bad as it originally was going to be.”
A FEW WEEKS AGO? When were you going to tell me this, Graydon Carter? When were you going to straighten your pinstripe suit and tuck your wizard-white hair behind your ears and sit me down to a cappuccino and really tell me all this?
I’m guessing never, but it would’ve been nice to have waited until after the holidays, at least, just so you didn’t spoil my eggnog appetite.