My brain just exploded.
Okay. It’s been a quiet evening.
But uncanny, huh?
Remember when artists were unique. Had a style, a voice and a look of their own?
Take a look at this dreary gallery from the VMA’s last night.
I don’t know about you but my one thought was ‘They all look the same’.
Generic popstars/actresses from the generic popstar/actress shop.
Straight hair, little dresses, polished within an inch of their lives, same make up, same pose, smile, on and on it goes. (Minaj and Perry might wear colour but they’re just cartoons.)
Here are just three of the ladies who coloured my world growing up.
They all had a style and a voice of their own. Still do.
…you get invited to a Thirties-themed costume party, and know that one trip to the thrift store at the end of your road will have what you’re looking for.
While the east coast is preparing for the hurricane of the century, the west is sweltering.
Well, LA is.
I’m wearing a vest top and shorts, I’m working inside and I have no a/c.
In desperation, I just poured an ice cold bottle of water down my chest.
Twenty years ago that would have been as sexy as all hell.
But it occurred to me, as I watched the rivulets of water congregate in my 43-year-old cleavage, that it’s probably just as well I did it in the privacy of my own home.
Pouring water down your chest, like other things that were once sexy (hot pants, glitter eye-shadow and knee-high socks), are now merely the opening montage to a hilarious new sit-com about a sassy older lady who thinks she’s still got it!
As Dorothy Parker once said, ‘Life is a glorious cycle of song, a medley of extemporania. And love is a thing that can never go wrong. And I am Marie of Romania.’
I think that makes my point.
Frankly, I’m too hot to focus.
Also, I now have a damp carpet.
(That’s not a euphemism).
I looked at the newspapers this morning and then died a little death.
Girl starves herself to look like an X Factor judge.
Kim Kardashian blah blah blah
Sean Penn’s 26-year-old girlfriend moves in with him.
Some Real Housewife shows off her bikini body
A popstar wears a see-through thing for a video.
I’ve got to start reading better newspapers.
In other news, I’m producing a fashion shoot today.
And I’m really excited about the clothes, the photorgapher we’ve booked and the location.
You see my dilemma…The ‘Hollywood’ is always at war with the ‘Spinster!’
But only because the women in question are beginning to talk honestly about what it’s like to be single and childless, after a certain age.
The fact that a spinster life is on one finger, liberating and joyful, and on the other nine fingers, scary, lonely and hard fucking work, makes it even more interesting.
Spinsterhood is not necessarily a success story. It’s a landing place. We ended up here but it was never the destination.
You can’t spin a spinster but what you can do is talk about it.
Hollywood Spinster does it with humour – this lady, not so much. But at least she’s being honest.
It’s curious to me that it’s slowly become acceptable to admit to some kind of society-defined defeat/failure. Especially in a world where everything is now covered in a faux celebrity gloss.
Our unique demographic makes us fascinating case-studies:
Our mothers told us we could have it all.
Our families were upwardly mobile.
We had a good education.
Here we sit, alone.
We, (women in their mid thirties to mid fifties) have lived through two crippling world-wide recessions (one still ongoing and slowly killing the lifestyle of spinsters by taking away disposable income), a sexual revolution that left men with all the power (there is such a thing as too independent it transpires), a determination to forge careers that left us unable to fully nurture relationships, the over-riding desire for men to want to fuck and be seen with much younger women, the spurious media-invented fads that are supposed to make it acceptable for women to be single and powerful (ie, cougars *spits*) but in fact, leave us weakened… and ultimately, the undeniable truth that in women’s cosmetically-enhanced pursuit of youth, we have become mere shadows of our inner spirit, making it impossible for real woman to grow old gracefully, and still be considered attractive.
Blimey, I should write a book about it.
Still, at least we’re still getting some.
And by that I mean that we’ve been screwed by both sexes, so we might as well make the most of it.
Let’s keep talking.
……a visit to the Warner Bros lot is the new ‘popping to the corner shop for a pint of milk’.