It’s Friday! And we’re jetting to Blighty! Well, OK, in our roundup. Here’s what our Brit counterparts were blogging about this week.

Jolie Nadine‘s London correspondent considers natural products — specifically what they “won’t” do. (Consider this a primer for our next toxic beauty post–there are points that I strongly disagree with. Can you guess which ones?)

Beauty Junkie London is not a fan of Nars Orgasm. And neither are her commenters. (GASP! Oh those wacky Brits!)

Get Lippe gives readers some dry skin tips. (And I agree with them!)

And, reporting for The Guardian in fancy MP3 style, Hadley Freeman thinks Vivienne Westwood’s new collection is both disgusting and unimaginative. (It’s OK Hadley, I still love you.)

Since we are being all Britannia today, did you know I am a huge Sex Pistols fan (Amazon affiliate link)? And no, I don’t play them in my treatment room (unless requested!). I love it when no one’s home and I can blast the iPod and sing along loudly and horribly to Anarchy in the UK and God Save the Queen. It just feels good. It helps if you jump around like loon while you sing it–which makes it aerobic too. Exercise points!

Seriously, try it this weekend. Punk rock is good for the soul.

I have been so busy these days, what with working the day job, trying to lay down my spa concept (someday I will share, but not yet) and toxic kindergarten, I have not kept up on the comings and goings of my muse Hadley Freeman. And she’s been in NY for fashion week! And I missed her!

Here’s a rundown:

Hadley reports that Madonna and Gwenie’s beloved personal trainer (and alleged deadbeat) Tracy Anderson has absconded with the head of Madonna’s Malawi charity. The man has abandoned his post at the charity to come to NY to be with Tracy, who must be wherever Madonna’s biceps are located. According to Hadley, Madonna is disappointed but apparently needs Tracy to keep her a size 0 more than this dude to take of her charitable escapades.

She thinks that Fashion Week doesn’t make sense anymore. Her point is that since everything happens at the speed of the internet these days, showing clothes six months prior to their arrival in stores doesn’t do much but cost money. The designers a drop a huge chunk of change to do the show, the publishers of glossy mags to drop a wad to send their editors to cover the different fashion weeks around the globe, and the knock-off industry has six months to do what they do best. She found the clothes this year uninspired, but she likes Tory Burch’s collection (scroll to the bottom).

I can’t tell if she loves or hates Mark Jacobs.

She definitely hates Glenn Beck.

She answers a reader query about what she calls “the decade that taste forgot.” Best takeaway: “how totally awesome that dressing like one’s batty aunt was apparently no impediment to being the hottie of one’s high school.”

Finally, she once again proves why she rocks, writing about fashion’s dirty secret: the sexual abuse of models (many of whom are just children).

Hadley, I love you and promise to come back more often.