Christine Taylor Says ‘Brady Bunch’ Movie Asked for 10 Pounds
Christine Taylor is revisiting an early Hollywood indignity: according to reporting from Page Six, she says she was asked to lose 10 pounds for The Brady Bunch Movie. Taylor also pushed back on the premise behind the request, saying, “I was not a super heavy person.”
The detail is striking because the number itself is so specific—and because Taylor says the experience left her embarrassed. That makes this less a glossy behind-the-scenes anecdote than a snapshot of the appearance rules performers were expected to absorb, even when the demand felt disconnected from how they actually looked.
Us Weekly separately carried the same 10-pound claim, giving the story a second outlet in the reporting cluster. Still, the supplied coverage does not establish who made the request, whether Taylor ultimately lost the weight, or whether the production offered any response. Those gaps matter: the account supports Taylor’s recollection, but not a broader claim about the entire film set or everyone involved.
What gives the story staying power is the collision between a highly recognizable comedy property and a very unfunny workplace expectation. Taylor’s own wording keeps the focus where it belongs—not on grading her body, but on the pressure placed on it. A decade-spanning celebrity career can make an old studio demand newly legible, especially when the star is now describing the emotional cost in plain terms.
BAD GOSS assessment: this is credible retrospective celebrity testimony with corroborating coverage, but the reporting supplied here supports Taylor’s account—not every detail surrounding the request.
Jane Fonda’s Billionaire Roast Has One Target: Immortality
Jane Fonda is not interested in flattering the ultra-rich. According to coverage from Us Weekly and The Hollywood Reporter, Fonda criticized billionaires and “tech bros” over what she characterized as a desire to live forever.
The reported remarks went beyond a general swipe at wealth. The Hollywood Reporter identified the target group as “tech bros, oligarchs and billionaires,” while also reporting Fonda’s colorful prediction about robots becoming “their babies.” That gives the moment a distinctly Fonda flavor: less boardroom critique, more full-body rejection of the fantasy that money can eventually purchase a loophole around mortality.
There is no named billionaire feud here, and the supplied reporting does not identify a specific person Fonda was addressing. That matters. This is not a personal takedown of one mogul or a claim about a private relationship; it is a broadside aimed at a recognizable class of powerful people and its most futuristic ambitions.
The appeal of the story is the collision of celebrity candor and Silicon Valley-scale aspiration. Billionaires seeking longer lives is already a familiar subject, but Fonda’s framing turns the conversation from “Can technology extend life?” to “What kind of world would these people build if they could?” The robot-baby line pushes that critique into satire, making the reported comments memorable rather than merely predictable.
With two outlets in the story cluster carrying the same basic account, the remarks look more substantial than a stray internet rumor. Still, the available facts establish reported commentary—not a new campaign, a specific policy fight or a confirmed personal conflict. The headline-worthy development is Fonda’s blunt positioning: she is mocking the immortality project, not auditioning for it.
Jason Kelce’s College Photos Lose the Beard
Jason Kelce’s beard has become so closely tied to his public image that old college photos are now doing the celebrity equivalent of a double take. E! News reports that throwback images of the former Philadelphia Eagles center show him without the scruffy facial hair fans know today.
The timing gives the photo revival a neat little headline: Kelce is approaching induction into the University of Cincinnati’s Hall of Fame, bringing attention back to the school where his football story began. That makes the images more than a random trip through the archives. They are being revisited as part of a look back at Kelce before the fame, the Eagles career and the instantly recognizable beard.
Page Six has also covered the same college-era photos, giving the appearance story a second entertainment-news source. The shared hook is straightforward but effective: remove the beard, and Kelce looks markedly different from the familiar version who became one of football’s most recognizable personalities.
There is no larger scandal hiding in the photo album, and that is precisely why the story works as light celebrity nostalgia. Kelce’s changing look is the entire occasion, with the Hall of Fame milestone supplying the timely reason to revisit it. The contrast also underlines how much a single grooming choice can become part of a celebrity’s visual branding.
BAD GOSS read: this is a real throwback-photo curiosity with a legitimate news peg, not a dramatic revelation. The beard may be gone in the college snapshots, but the nostalgia has arrived right on schedule.