Scary stuff. But it really helps to know what she means by "as we know it." Even if you have, as I believe I do, a fairly loose definition of family, there is no trace of that family in this magazine. Which is not to say that the family as we know it is extinct. It is more a case of that family's having dropped off Betts' personal radar. I suppose it is even possible that the family of the fashion-unconscious was never really on her personal radar.

The family as Betts knows it is a rarefied grouping, mostly organized on a celebriarcal model. Sort of a "it's not who gave birth to you but who you know" type of thing. Clothes appear to be the glue that binds these units, functioning both as a means of demonstrating allegiance and as a way to express love, though not unconditional love: Labels matter. Prada signifies depth of attachment.

We are not surprised to learn, then, that the original idea for the family issue is rooted in the aesthetic of family -- that reliably seductive tableau of woman with child. Betts tells us that Paul Eustace, the art director of Harper's Bazaar, came across a 1966 issue of the magazine with a cover photo of a model embracing a child. He was "so moved" by the cover photo and the "portraits of society families," says Betts, that he suggested an entire issue of the magazine be devoted to family.

Apparently Eustace was not so moved by the aesthetic beauty of that (generic) Madonna and child that he felt the need to reproduce it himself. The cover for this "family issue" features model Caroline Ribeiro hugging not a child but her own Scarlett O'Hara-sized waist. Maybe someone just confused "baby" with "babe."

Inside the magazine, maternal beauty takes its cue from the lovely and predictably emaciated Ribeiro. The actual mothers in the magazine, though they didn't make the cover, probably could have, had they not been with child. Expectant mother and model Sigrid de l'Epine, seven months pregnant, clad in an all-black, belly-revealing ensemble and sensible python heels, declares pregnancy to be her beauty secret: "It makes your skin glow and your hair look good." (Pregnancy is so good to her skin that de l'Epine claims she would like to be pregnant for another six months.) Elsewhere in the magazine, model Stephanie Seymour reveals her maternal breast -- literally -- as she poses with her three sons, her nipples poking through the fabric of a translucent hot pink blouse.

Sibling rivalry in all its complexity is reduced to an all-in-the-family beauty contest, showcased in a feature about supermodels who are twins. (Correct me if I'm wrong, but doesn't this sound like a stock frat boy masturbatory fantasy?) Fraternal twins Kate E. and Karen Elson say that Kate, who has "china white skin and long black lashes," played the beauty to Karen's beast in high school; Karen, "who has almost no eyelashes," was teased and called "Le Freak." Happily, Karen, who has most likely discovered mascara, is now a model too.

While the rest of us now acknowledge the existence of the nuclear family, the extended family and the blended family, Betts has broadened our horizons with the addition of a new unit: the fashion family. In a feature billed on the cover as the "Ultimate Fashion Family Album," Harper's Bazaar redefines "home" as "house of couture." (Well, they are etymologically similar, right?) This definition of family is so vast it becomes meaningless: Suddenly the creative teams of major fashion houses have become "families" by virtue of their working relationships (neatly negating the sincerity of Betts' complaint that the problem today is people who are too career-obsessed).

As if on cue, Helmut Lang confides, "I have my real family and my creative family," and designer Rei Kawakubo describes collaborators as her "children." (I would personally be afraid if my boss called me her kid, but I probably would allow it if I wanted my new fall line to be promoted in her magazine.)