Today is Lost Symbol day—or, just another day that Dan Brown will deposit a ginormous check (see Malcolm Jones' review of the book here). The king of the beach read tackles the secrecy of the Freemasons in his latest thriller, and leans on boldface names from art history to create several high-stakes puzzles. (If "puzzles" sounds too pedestrian for $29.95, slip on Doubleday's rose-colored glasses: "Dan Brown's novels are brilliant tapestries of veiled histories, arcane symbols, and enigmatic codes," per the back cover.)

In Brown's earlier novels, those boldface names have typically been legends of Italian history─Galileo, Bernini, da Vinci, and more. But this time we traverse north: please welcome 538-year-old Albrecht Dürer, a German woodcutter and engraver responsible for some groundbreaking, northern Renaissance graphic design you've probably never seen. (Not that this Dürer rhinoceros engraving won't soon be on the sides of buses everywhere. Tourists stampeded to see Bernini's fountain after it was featured as a murder weapon in Angels & Demons).

Despite the fact that Dürer is intrinsically a lot less sexy than da Vinci, the Freemasons' indignity at Symbol is expected to be appreciably "milder" than that of Opus Dei or the Roman Catholic Church. Still, we did find a few select glove slaps. As we learn on page 239, at least one character is under the impression that Masons like "playing dress-up with a bunch of old men"!

I do beg your pardon.

In her reserved and unprecedented appearance on David Letterman's Late Show last night, Vogue editor Anna Wintour finally answers a burning question: if your fashion budget has been slashed down to a measly "20 dollars," as Dave posits, what can one actually afford to look Vogue-approved?

Anna pauses thoughtfully: "You could buy a lipstick."

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Forget the guise of feminism—you stay just how you are, sweetie!—that was en vogue few months ago. Scottish singing sensation Susan Boyle finally succumbed to her first glossy fashion photo shoot for September's Harper's Bazaar, and now the video of the shoot is online. She stutters and acts very shy in the clip, and we feel for her—all those lackeys touching her face, all those flashbulbs going off.  She might look more Town & Country, but her diminished confidence is a bit sad. Where's the sassy Susan who put Simon in his place—and who's logged a hundred million views on YouTube?

Michael Jackson’s meteoric rise to fame was shepherded by television and photographs: the Jackson 5 lead singer broke out on American Bandstand, was immortalized in button-cute photographs as a kid, and became the world's most celebrated pop star with the advent of the music video. But some of his most iconic renderings came not through television, film, or photo, but rather through more traditional media like painting and sculpture. Five works of art that celebrate the star:

Michael Jackson and Bubbles by Jeff Koons. Provocative conceptual artist Jeff Koons has made a career of turning tabletop kitsch and American novelties into megalithic icons, and Jackson was not immune. Koons’s porcelain statue of the singer esthetically recalls the precious glass tchotchkes your grandmother might have kept, but the sculpture's message was more suggestive. Part of Koons’s Banality series, the piece is outsized (more than six feet long) and depicts Jackson’s young, male pet chimpanzee nestled in the singer’s arms. It sold for $5.6 million at auction.

King of Pop promotional tour poster. Ever wondering what Lincoln, the Mona Lisa and, er, E.T. would look like in Jackson's signature, oversize aviator shades? Wonder no more: this tour poster was transferred to stretched canvas. It depicts Jackson and a handful of other icons all wearing the same sunglasses and the characteristic rhinestone-encrusted glove. The piece was up for auction in April, before Jackson canceled the sale.

Michael Jackson (born 1958) by Andy Warhol. King of Pop, meet the arbiter of the pop movement. When Time featured Jackson on its cover in 1984, who else to capture him than pop artist Andy Warhol? The artist's signature silk-screening technique immortalized Jackson at the pinnacle of his fame, the same year he won a whopping eight Grammy awards for “Thriller.”

Michael Jackson Triptych by David Nordahl. Painted in the tradition of Gothic devotional triptychs, this three-painting foldout showed Michael as a light-bathed, omnipotent central figure and as the subject of both a coronation (at right) and knighthood (at left). The sumptuous oil figures were painted on top of a depthless background covered in textile-type motifs, giving the whole work the look of a regal tapestry.

Peter Pan car-hood decal. Jackson also initially put this electric car up for sale; its hood depicts an elaborate, airbrushed mural of the singer as Peter Pan in the trademark ragged green robes, with a pirate ship, ocean, planets, and stars swirling around in the background. The car also had Peter Pan decals on the seat cushions.

After American Apparel -- maker of gold lamé leggings, terrycloth booty shorts and other items that might be better branded as The Boogie Nights Collection -- put Woody Allen's image on a billboard, sans the director's permission, Allen sued for a cool $10 mil.  So via lawyer Stuart Slotnick, American Apparel demanded the director prove he had a reputation worth damaging: "We believe that Mr. Allen's popularity has decreased significantly, especially in light of the scandals he's been associated with. We believe that he greatly overvalues the worth of his endorsement -- if he can get one." Yeeeow!

Now, a court has upheld Allen's right to retain fan mail and other documentation that he's popular.  Per the judge, "There is no reason to require Allen to produce documents regarding each of his personal appearances and performances during his lengthy career. This information would not provide meaningful evidence of the value of defendant’s endorsement."

Hard to believe that a Dov Charney enterprise wanted to duke it out over reputation, given the CEO's multiple sexual harassment suits and pervy quote-machine tendencies -- in his words, "I'll frequently drop my pants to show people my new product."  Right.

Which is worse in this Style.com interview of Kate Moss: the questions, or the answers?  The gold and silver medals go to these two:

Style.com: Where do you get inspiration for your Topshop collection?

Kate Moss: My imagination.

and

S.C: What's your preferred mode of transportation?

KM: Private jet.

Photo, courtesy of Rolling Stone.

So here's my lingering issue with Rolling Stone's April 2 "Gossip Girl" cover -- and the reason why I am still sort of mulling it over, a few days after it hit stands: it is no secret that the show is on the decline.  Not only are we almost over the hump of its existence, with the second season winding down and the stars admitting in the article itself that "four is a good number," but the show -- like its late Cali counterpart "The O.C." -- has left plot and coherence in the dust.  The already-low ratings are down in the new year.  Maybe because to watch the show right now is to be literally bludgeoned by cliches.  On Monday, in order to convey the impressive pedigree of main man Nate Archibald, the writers gave us a scene in which the cast perused some oil portraits of the Vanderbilts.  Then, there was some touch football -- in vintage rugby sweaters -- and some sly tackles, which were of course just an impish way to win Grandfather's approval.  He taught Nate how to sail, you know.

Anyway, that's my beef -- not only is the waning show not worth the simple acclaim of being on Rolling Stone's cover this week, but hello!  It's been done.  A bajillion times.  To better effect.  As in, check out New York's now-famous soliloquy from a year ago.  Even the photo from the New York cover and Rolling Stone double-truck of the cast in bed sheets are shockingly similar.  And if the recession is supposed to be the peg -- Gilded Age Show Finds Itself Out of Touch -- well, that angle was already covered by Vogue more than two months ago.

The photos themselves?  Kinda cool.  I like the cover, though I have a minor grudge against the inside shot of Leighton Meester literally deep-throating a Twizzler -- my lunch is gurgling ominously.  I don't find them "sexist," as some are claiming.  (For sexist, might wanna check out the Nov. 2003 cover of Jessica Simpson pushing a Swiffer around in underwear and heels).  

But what do YOU think?

Photo, Fernanda Calfat/Getty Images.

We're nearly halfway through New York's Mercedes Benz Fashion Week. And so far, the most constant theme is the fashion world's continual obsession with Michelle Obama. Questions abound: Will she show up? (No.) But is that the White House social secretary sitting next to Vogue's Anna Wintour? (Yes.) Which of these dresses might the first lady wear? (Probably few.) And which colorful sheaths were directly inspired by her? (Unclear, but it's safe to say several.)

The claim is that Mrs. Obama has changed the fashion world with her carefully choreographed wardrobe choices, and it doesn't just translate to the clothes. Already this week, journalists have speculated whether the ethnic makeup of models on the runway might shift from favoring Caucasians to include more black models in an attempt to reflect America's newest fashion icon. In the New York Times, Guy Trebay wrote, "Already there are signs that the recent industry habits of exclusion may be undergoing a shift," citing an increase in the number of black men and women getting work in fashion in New York City. Over at New York Magazine, James Lim lauded Jason Wu's choice of a black model to open his show: "Does this mean the days of whitewashed runways are behind us?" he asks.

The answer to that question: absolutely not. Not to be a downer in these exciting times, but if anything, Michelle Obama has merely drawn attention to the current crop of black models, while designers don't appear to have done anything to change their casting preferences. The shows this year still look overwhelmingly, almost unbelievably, white. Impressions can be deceiving, so in a quest for hard, empirical evidence, we visited Style.com and perused the site's slideshows of runway shows from Spring/Summer Fashion Week last September to figure out the differences in the number of black models between then and now when it comes to both America's most well-known designers and our first lady's personal favorites. Here's a look:

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Legendary fashion designer Valentino Garavani is the subject of an upcoming documentary called "Valentino: The Last Emperor," which lovingly captures the intense relationship he shares with his ex-boyfriend and longtime business partner, Giancarlo Giammetti. The film also reveals the glamorous lifestyle of the Italian designer, who has homes in Rome, New York City, London, Gstaad and a 152-foot yacht that employs a full-time staff of 11. He spoke with NEWSWEEK's Nicki Gostin about his retirement from the world of high fashion, his beloved half-dozen pugs and the challenges of designing an Oscar gown for actresses like Julia Roberts and Cate Blanchett. (Wanna see Valentino's take on red-carpet dresses of years past, both gowns of his creation and ones made by other designers? Click here!)

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Photo courtesy of the Future Perfect.

Ahh, commemorative tchotchkes.  So universally bad, and yet, so politically divisive.  As President Obama made himself at home last week (to a full fridge of Honest Tea, Black Forest Berry and Green Dragon flavors), he apparently said of a Bush-era decorative display, "I’ve got to do something about these plates. I’m not really a plates kind of guy." 

Turns out, he kind of is.  The "Hope" poster artist Shepard Fairey's studio has emblazoned Obama's face on a limited edition porcelain plate -- comes in both blue and red, plus gift box; yours for $89.  Moreover, shelter blogs Remodelista and Apartment Therapy, respectively, are pointing out the ways in which plate displays can be tasteful. (Turns out, it has to do with the dish itself -- an arrangement of John Derian's latest offerings gets more cred than, say, multiples of Diana: The People's Princess Commemorative Plate).

Even with the Fairey touch, anything hawked as "limited edition" and "porcelain" reminds us of those frolicking blue-eyed kittens you always see in "Parade."  And we wouldn't want those at our pad.

V&A Museum: Stephen Jones - Terence Donovan/Tatler. © The Condé Nast Publications Ltd.

War, unemployment, 3D glasses -- and now, a spate of hats in high places.  Seriously, have we time-traveled back to 1954?  We owe the hat thing in part to Carla Bruni-Sarkozy, the Kate Moss of modest attire, who put "pillbox" back in the lexicon when she donned Dior last March. Hats then seeped onto the Spring/Summer 2009 fashion runways -- noted designers like Marc Jacobs and Dolce & Gabbana sent models sailing down the catwalk in headgear -- and from there, made the natural leap (baby step?) to February's Vogue.  In the fashion spread "It's A Madcap World," models aped 1930s gals-about-town in twee straw boaters. Next came Aretha -- gloriously coronated Aretha -- in her bejeweled, bow-ed inaugual hat, now actively sought by the costume preservationists at the Smithsonian.

Now, hats get a scholarly undergirding in an exhibition at London's famed costume museum, the Victoria and Albert, called "Hats: An Anthology."  Stephen Jones, expert hat designer and milliner, has curated the show (opening Feb. 24) and included more than 300 hats, ranging from an Egyptian mask (c. 600 BC) to Seussical creations from the '50s (like the one seen above).  Included also are some examples from famous movie roles -- Audrey Hepburn's straw hat from her "My Fair Lady" role was found stuffed in the bottom of a storage box in a Warner Brothers archive, and will be on display in the "Famous Clients" section of the show. If you're up for a hop overseas, the anthology runs through May 31.

Meanwhile, if you're just looking for a copy of Aretha's Texas-sized felt hat, the Detroit-based milliner who created it has plans to sell a satin facsimile for $179.

Photos, the Associated Press.

The last sleeveless, ivory, intricately appliqued frock seen on a First Family member? Jenna Bush Hager's wedding dress, by Oscar de la Renta.  The irony is that the 27-year-old twin chose de la Renta, a time-honored first-lady favorite and experienced inaugural gown maker -- while the first lady's gown was created by Jason Wu, age 26, who heard about Obama's choice while eating pizza with friends.  Overnight a household name, the New York-based Wu told US Weekly that he thought "white would look great on her.  She's so statuesque!" 

Courtesy of IMDB and HFPA.

Maybe the crow's-nest hair was a Tippi tribute?