An open letter to Demi MoorePosted: January 30, 2012
What the St Elmo’s Fire is going on?
Firstly – and bear with, as we need to get this out of our systems…IT WAS ALWAYS GOING TO HAPPEN. Even the most myopic halfwit could have seen that one coming. Your split from floppy-haired play-nerd Ashton Kutcher was always a question of when, not if.
The age gap was too big. He has some serious growing up to do and when he does, he’ll probably want his own kids. By then, like the rest of us, your ovaries will be auditioning for Sun Maid, and your knees will have become the Turin Shroud of body parts – if you look hard enough you’ll be able to see Jesus in the folds.
So join us on the shelf of life – budge up ladies – we’ve always got room for another lost soul.
Get comfortable. For a shelf, it does have a few soft spots, and yes, if you ask nicely, we’ll even give you a hug.
Here, you’ll be able to swap stories with other women who maybe discovered their husband slept with a twenty-something blonde on their sixth wedding anniversary, or perhaps found solace in laughing gas?
Or perhaps not, but as they say, each to their own.
We won’t judge you but we will give you a look that says, ‘Stop being a victim, it’s not helping anyone and also, it doesn’t go with the Versace.’
Oh and while we’re at it, stop doing interviews where you say shit like ‘What scares me is that I’m going to ultimately find out at the end of my life that I’m really not lovable, that I’m not worthy of being loved. That there’s something fundamentally wrong with me.’
Of course, there’s something wrong with you – you’re a woman. But we understand because we’re women too. Women who have also been cast asunder by the roving penis we dedicated our lives to, man-kids who take the afternoon off to play with their X Box, and balding dudes who think a mid-life crisis is a positive life change (when in fact every sane human knows that buying a yellow Porsche is a massive, cliched cry for help).
But Demi, people hate a spinster who whiffs of desperation. It’s unattractive, and never more so than in a woman who is financially set for life with three daughters who adore her, and a lifestyle of unimaginable luxury.
We don’t do the ‘poor me’ around here.
Watching you cling on to your daughter Rumer, on the red carpet a couple of weeks ago, like a malnourished kitten, was painful. We can’t bear it. But let me make this clear, we’re being very generous letting you have temporary shelf space – technically, you are not a spinster but we do love to fix things. Which is probably why we’re all single.
Out of all of us battle-scarred suffragettes, you probably have the best chance of finding someone you can share your life with again. We’re aging naturally in the old fashioned way, and have massive debt. Whereas you Demi, you still get offered roles that require you to take your clothes off. If half of us up here did that, we’d start a skin tsunami. Not pretty.
So you’ve had your wallow. And you did it in style, we’ll give you that. You’ve done the headline-grabbing cry for help as a bid to get him back (again – laughing gas?), and it didn’t work (we hear Ashton is ‘concerned but moving on’), so now it’s time to get back on track. Eat a little dinner and enjoy the sunsets.
You may not realise it but everyone up here knows that in the grand scheme of things, this heart-breaking moment is fleeting.
Like seeing Jesus in your kneecaps, we believe in you.
So it’s time you started believing in yourself.
Come over here and have a hug.
And a cupcake, if Charlize hasn’t scoffed them all…