Archive for the ‘Celebrities’ Category

Thank You, Beyonce.

Friday, March 21st, 2014

beyonce dammit

Oh, look: Beyonce visits the Anne Frank house. A good time for an instagram. But she handles herself so much better than Justin Bieber, so that’s a relief.

Let me just quote my favorite line from “True Detective“:

L’chaim, fatass.

How Bossy!

Tuesday, March 11th, 2014

ban-bossy-badge2

Oh god, political correctness. Now, They want us to ban the word ‘bossy’ because it inhibits girls from ‘leaning in.’ I would much rather ban ‘lean in’ if I were Minister of Language.

The new Ban Bossy campaign is predictably strident, sanctimonious and victimmy. Its stated aim is to encourage girls to become leaders. But how can they become leaders if they’re not bossy? Should they lead by manipulation instead?

‘Ban Bossy’ is brought to you by Lean In, the organization founded by Sheryl Sandberg, Facebook COO and author of the bossy best-seller that made ‘lean in’ a trendy and divisive concept for the media to feed on.

Lean In has managed to get the Girl Scouts in on the ‘Ban Bossy’ campaign, as well as bossy women like Condi Rice and Beyonce.  You can go to the website and take the pledge to stop using the word ‘bossy.’

Or you can use whatever words you want. I want to lean out or at the very least, lean back. I don’t want to be treated like an idiot by some pseudo-feminist figureheads and business groups.

I wish I had been a lot more bossy when I was younger. I’m making up for it now, though. Tell me what you think. And that’s an order.

 

 

Acadamy Awards 2014 Exegesis

Monday, March 3rd, 2014

angie's new tits

For me, this year’s show was all about Angelina‘s new boobs. I admit I have an unhealthy fixation on them. I just can’t get past the disproportionate size of them.

I believe that her surgery was just an excuse to get a new pair of whopping big tits, and god bless her for them, just don’t expect a Nobel prize for wanting enormous implants.

Somewhere, my sister saw a headline that read “Angie fearlessly displays her decolletage..” when the correct verb is “determinedly” or “insistently.” I’m disappointed that she didn’t get them out for a photo op but oh well, there’s still time for that.

Moving on to the awards, Lupita Nyong’o was absolutely stunning in pale blue Prada. What a charming and delightful person, I had no idea! Jared Leto was a dish of androgynous goodness as he delivered a wonderful tribute to him mom. Matthew McConaughey seemed nuts and Cate Blanchette proved that Woody Allen can do anything to anyone and still be the object of Hollywood’s slobbering admiration.

Most Messed-Up face goes to Kim Novak, with Goldie Hawn a close runner-up. Amy Adams looked fabulous and Sandra Bullock looked predictably blah and waxy, while Julia Roberts went all out to look frumpy and horse-faced.

Daniel Day Lewis is still hot in an old man kind of way, demonstrating for Harrison Ford that an earring is the wrong way to go. Brad Pitt needs to explain that awful hairstyle and I want it witnessed and notarized.

I had to cover my face upon seeing the tearful eyes of Barkhad Abdi, the guy who played the Somalian pirate. I need him to be happy! I hope he will go on to have a career in acting, instead of just being a novelty in a Tom Hanks movie.

Finally, it was a relief to only have to see Bono onstage once. It could have been so much worse.

Robin Wright: No.

Wednesday, February 26th, 2014

RW chin problem

I have been gorging on Season 2 of House of Cards and Robin Wright is killing me. I can’t take it.

Why is she so fucking manly?

It’s hard to watch this series without complaining about the manliness. Even at its most engrossing, I am distracted by the physical ickiness of this actress once known for being pretty.

Is it misogynist of me to man-shame her? Is it homophobic or just looks-ist?

Trying to examine my strong reaction to Robin Wright, I realize that I can’t stand her posture either. Or her character’s skintight minimalist wardrobe. Wear a fucking COLOR, Robin Wright!

Her manly hairstyle draws attention to her huge neck and jaw. Why the huge jaw? Is it a chin implant or what? What’s the deal?

Please explain any part of this.

Remember Tragic Fashion Boy?

Monday, February 24th, 2014

Poor tragic-fashion-boy

Poor Tragic Fashion boy!

I came across this picture and it brought back a whole era – the era in my life when blogging and fashion were exciting and full of adventure. I was genuinely fascinated by characters like Sea of Shoes and Tragic Fashion Boy.

Now, life has lost its luster, and my priorities have certainly changed. But it makes me sad to see these photos of Charles Guislain, who is now around 20, and still the object of male lust on various websites. God only knows what he has experienced in the last few years.

tragic fashion  boy-grey

charles guislain

I see he is working as a photographer. I hope he’s happy with his choices. I hope he’s decided to eat more.

Oddly enough, today someone reminded me about Daphne Guinness, another character I once found interesting. In a new interview, she revealed that she dresses “intuitively.”

I don’t care about her any more but I still love words. What does she mean by dressing intuitively? Is it possible to dress oneself counter-intuitively?

Let me know what you think.

Oh Shut Up, Jezebel

Friday, January 17th, 2014

lena-dunhams-arm-is-missing-in-vogue-photoshop-fail

 

Can someone explain why people pay attention to Jezebel? I know it’s supposed to be a staunchly feminist website but it’s just so godawful! I have already registered my disgust at its policy of auditioning its commenters. But the offenses keep piling up.

Now Jezebel is offering $10,000 to anyone who can provide the original unphotoshopped pictures of Vogue’s February covergirl, Lena Dunham. How many things are wrong with this stupid gambit for attention?

1. Why offer cash, turning their ‘quest for truth’ into a bounty-hunting exercise?
2. Why humiliate a woman they profess to admire?
3. Why claim “This is about Vogue, and what Vogue decides to do with a specific woman who has very publicly stated that she’s fine just the way she is, and the world needs to get on board with that. ” when that is so clearly a hypocritical lie?

It’s about page hits! But meanwhile, any claim to ‘feminism’ is surely negated by this mean fumble at pseudo-truth seeking.

Poor Lena. I don’t like her TV show but she doesn’t deserve this. DUH, the picture is photoshopped, they left out her fucking arm! Why don’t they choose a more traditional thin beauty-queen type to humiliate?

This is some kind of shaming situation, even if it’s just Vogue-shaming or Lena-shaming. Feminists are not supposed to approve of shaming! Recently, Jezebel engaged in some chola-shaming when they denounced Lana Del Rey for dressing like a home-girl. What fucking fuckers they are.

Jezebel is more dead to me than ever.

Golden Globes 2014 Exegesis

Monday, January 13th, 2014

US - ENTERTAINMENT - FILM - GOLDEN GLOBES - PRESS ROOM

 

Let’s start with the men. Guys, don’t wear your hair up! If you’re a Sumo wrestler, fine, otherwise, never.

This douche above turned out to be the horrible Edward Zero character, but his name is Alex Ebert and he won a music award.  Jared Leto wore his long hair in a bun/pony tail that I wanted to undo in private, no matter how crazy he is.

Robert Redford doesn’t mind looking like a 200 year old tortoise, whereas Michael Douglas still believes he’s a hottie, even after complaining about his wife’s vag.

The men to have sex with were Idris Elba and Collin Farrell. The men to ridicule are the sanctimonious cunts of U2, who made it clear that they supported Nelson Mandela long before you did. You are nothing compared to them and don’t forget it!

Liev Schreiber cried like a baby and someone who was either Puff Daddy or Jay Z was on hand for no discernible reason.

Leaving the men behind, let’s move on to the weirdest moment : Jacqueline Bisset was  a portrait of  proudly un-botoxed beauty who then lost points for being either nuts or drunk. She seemed more bitter than triumphant, but delivered the most uncomfortable appearance since Lauren Bacall’s stroke. In the audience, Jessica Lange’s face-lift registered seething anger at losing to Bisset.

Sandra Bullock wore the worst dress, unless you prefer Julia Roberts in that category. Robin Penn Warren looked like a sleek man, and Olivia Wilde looked like a shimmering pregnant mermaid – gorgeous!

Diane Keaton contrasted her beautifully thick poufy hair with a wrinkly smoker’s face and almost pulled off a certain dignified charm until she sang a Girl Scout song in a crazy little girl voice.

Red lipstick was in short supply compared to last year. Cate Blanchett wore a nice blue-red, Juliette Binoche wore a bright red that was too orangey for her teeth, and Drew Barrymore chose a vivid fluorescent red that may have been MAC Ruby Woo or Beso by Stilla.

Now I’m worn out. What did I forget?

My Favorite Iggy

Monday, December 2nd, 2013

 

Iggy_Pop

 

I don’t like Iggy Pop, even though I’m aware of his importance to punk music. Doesn’t he sing the Passenger song? Whatever. He needs to put his shirt on but seems committed to showing off his stringy malnourished physique. Honestly, the man is an eyesore, take him away.

Whereas Australian rap artist Iggy Azalea is a goddess and my latest obsession.

iggy good

 

I could look at her forever. The first time I saw her video ‘Work,‘ I was unsettled by its raunchiness and her snarling nasal rapping. But I couldn’t take my eyes off her. Six feet tall with a blond swath of mermaid hair and a huge booty, the sight of Iggy Azalea in skintight white pants on the David Letterman show was mesmerizing.

Would Dave be able to handle a greeting? Would her camel-toe become even more pronounced? Would she give me a shout-out by name? For some reason my husband is immune to her effect, and I’ve stopped trying to make him look at her videos.  That’s cool. He can have Iggy Pop if he wants.

Let’s look at more Iggy Azalea:

Iggy-Azalea swimsuit-goddess

 

iggy red carpet small

 

People have accused Iggy of having butt implants but I believe this butt is god-given, the better to twerk (part of her stage-act for years, she has pointed out defensively.)

I wish we could be girlfriends and talk lipstick.  Meanwhile, I will worship her from afar. And don’t argue with me until you’ve heard her rap.

 

Lou Reed, Good Riddance

Saturday, November 2nd, 2013

lou-reed

My memory of hearing the Velvet Underground for the first time is indelible in every detail. I had just moved to London and I was sixteen and up for anything. I was smoking hash with some guys I’d just met, sitting around stoned in their dark attic flat, when someone put on “Sister Ray.” I was transported to another dimension,  thrilling and unspeakably depraved.

I loved the Velvet Underground. By the time Max was in high school, he loved them too.

But in the last 15 years, I have come to hate Lou Reed, so his death left me cold. Big deal, is my feeling; he wasted a liver that should have gone to someone younger. Expressing my antipathy to Lou Reed on Facebook brought me new enemies and inflamed old ones. I guess that’s what Facebook is all about.

The problem, for me, is that Lou Reed was a willing and eager role model for young musicians who admired his stance as a flagrant dope-loving junkie, whose love-songs to dope make Keith Richard look like a Catholic schoolgirl. For those drawn to the dark side, Lou was a formidable siren. He made heroin synonymous with coolness.

I know you can’t blame artists for the actions of their followers. Marilyn Manson was rightly annoyed when people blamed him for the Columbine shootings. Gangsta rap might offend you, but it doesn’t turn law-abiding kids into gangsters.

Still, young people are vulnerable. They are searching for an ‘identity’ as they struggle to break away from their parents’ dominion. And a rock star who glamorizes intravenous drug use is a real problem. The worst thing Madonna’s fans could do was to go around looking like a slut. And they did. But fucking Lou Reed has lured kids into hospitals, Hep C and early graves.

I wish he had wised up early and had cautioned people not to romanticize heroin. Even William Burroughs described addiction as a gruesome nightmare of endless need and decaying flesh. But not Lou. For the last ten years at least, Lou Reed has appeared all over the place, blathering drunkenly about how important he is, or how important his friends are. Just a few months ago, I heard him blabbing about his friends Marina Abramovich, Yoko, Anthony Hegarty (who he kept calling ‘Ant’) and on and on. He was an asshole.

Max didn’t live long enough to see what an asshole Lou Reed was. He learned that heroin was a rocky path without glamour or romance, but then it was too late.

Lou Reed didn’t persuade me to use a needle, but maybe if I’d been a boy with a guitar things would have been different. If I was god, I’d go back and erase Lou Reed. I would also make sure that people knew about depression in children, so it couldn’t go on unchecked. I would trade the entire musical output of Lou Reed for the two kids I met in rehab who died from an overdose.

Fuck you Lou, and the horse you rode in on.

Luz Del Fuego

Monday, October 28th, 2013

Luz Del Fuego was a fascinating woman who founded the first “naturist” club in Brazil in 1955, on the island of Tapuama. She was a dancer, activist and an icon of feminism.  Her murder in 1967 is still surrounded by controversy.

Pictures of Luz do not do her justice. This video has reawakened my interest in her. Don’t watch it if you have a thing about snakes.

 

Luz del perfect