In the world of gossip, we tend to boil things down to simple binaries like pregnant not pregnant, dating not dating, hot or not, but when it comes to the rather abundant stern of Serena Williams such narrowing categories can’t be applied. Words like disturbingly large, impressively abundant, of gothic proportions and just plain frightening come to mind when thinking about this courtside diva’s backside. But the real question is: does Serena have a hot ass? Well, my friends I hate to always put a damper on things but I tend to get repelled by body parts that could potentially harm me. If George Clooney had a D ____ that shot bullets, I would probably get turned off; if Eric Bana’s nipples exploded when touched, I probably wouldn’t go near them and because Serena’s ass is so powerful that a clench from either cheek could break my finger, I have to conclude that her hiney does not say come hither but stay the f**** away.

At the same time, taut tiny gymnast-ass is equally repugnant. So what I am saying is when it comes to ass, there has to be a happy medium. Case in point: Rafa Nadal. The gracious Spaniard, who spends much of his valued court-time pulling his gitch out of his nether-regions, has a bottom so round and lean, so muscular and inviting that J Lo in her glory days would have happily given up her can crown.

And then there are those unspeakable asses, those posteriors that are just too perfect for words…falling into that category is David Beckham. Beckham’s behind – tight yet yielding, raw yet supple – is so desirable it makes you forget both his choice in life to marry vile Victoria and the fact that he is perhaps not a man.

So, in my butt books, Beckham takes the grand prize and Serena’s behind lands heavily on the bottom. Who’s your number one?

Though George Clooney may or may not be gay — I haven’t heard evidence to the contrary — the A-list celebrity is a man through and through. This is not to say that the salt and pepper symbol of pure manhood tramples on the souls of heartsick women as they lie pathetically at his feet begging him to stay until he moves onto the next ill-advised woman. But, if this is in fact Mr. Clooney’s behavior, he gives the public no idea that this is the case. He is a perfect man precisely because he always presents himself at face — and what a face that is — value. Mr. Clooney keeps himself thankfully concaled: he is an old-school charmer as sweet-talking as Bogey, as smooth as Carey Grant, and as refreshingly impetuous as Gary Cooper.

But since Brad Pitt has become Angelina’s teetering mule, carting around a brood of multiethnic infants and tots like some kind of daycare worker, the blond-haired, cherry lipped, apple bottomed specimen has shown the public too many dripping entrails to be considered sexy. Noone wants to see a celebrity male’s insides, especially when we know the inner self is a mangled, shrinking version of its original gloriousness. Poor Brad Pitt has lost so much since his debut appearance in Thelma and Louise — jumping on the bed, blow-dryer in hand, cut muscles shamelessly and totally his. Like the movie, as in his life at the time, he owned nothing but himself, he had to steal to from poor Louise to survive. Now, Brad Pitt has no control over his life, he walks around following at the hip of Angelina, faceless, without masculinity and a shadow of his former self.

Brad Pitt should have driven off the cliff with Thelma and Louise, an immortal man, a real man, he would have been.
(IUC Fashion Editor Erin Hershberg)

There are umpteen women who emanate these highly coveted qualities but two ladies who unquestionably fall under the category of beauty – pure and simple – are Megan Fox and Angelina Jolie. So, when pondering the beauty of these spectacular starlets, one does not wonder if they are beautiful but how the women differ and why one is more attractive than the other.

There is a fine line between skanky and dangerous. And I believe the impalpable boundary is the deciding factor in the beauty competition between Jolie and Fox. Poor Fox may have adopted a stage name that puts her into the stealthy animal class, but it is precisely this attempt at being carnal and sexy that exposes her desperation. Though Fox’s hotness is undeniable, her raw appeal is damaged by a persona that screams, “I want you,” rather than the far more attractive, “you want me.”

If you haven’t guessed by now, my vote goes to Jolie. Countless times Angelina has been described as statuesque by the media but the overwhelming enchantress is too alluring to be classified as such. Unlike Fox, Jolie has a ‘thereness’ about her that isn’t blasé but has a kind of claim to it. Jolie owns her beauty – every last inch of it – whereas Fox direly projects it outward. Jolie’s beauty is threatening because it is perfectly connected to her, whereas Fox’s allurement appears implausible for the sole reason that she so unflinchingly clings to it.

Oh and Megan Fox has really weird thumbs.

Erin Hershberg is IUC Fashion Editor