When Party of Five was in its heyday, my friend Shawn used to tease me about being like Jennifer Love Hewitt. Pebbles Love Brooks, he'd say, knowing how irritating I found her vapid presence. How can you like someone who insists on being referred to as "Love?" These are the central mysteries of life, I suppose. And she's thin and has naturally large breasts -- this is the devil's work. But now that she's been photographed on a vacation in a bikini that shows, stay with me now, that she has a bit of a stomach and some cellulite (or as my friend Angela refers to it, hail damage, a term I love) on her rear, I've softened quite a bit given the general nastiness of the coverage. Don't people understand that actresses are airbrushed within an inch of their lives and know how to pose for the camera in ways that will make them look good? And even the most beautiful can take a bad picture? This is the woman that gave us I Know What You Did Last Summer. Show some respect!
Seriously, I think this is the sort of thing that helps perpetuate a culture of eating disorders, misery, body shame, and spending a considerable amount of time financing a billion dollar diet industry or putting our heads in the toilet. Super sexy, I know, and so kind to the teeth. To Love's credit, she stood up for herself and told everyone essentially to fuck off. She's on a television show now that I've never seen, The Ghost Whisperer, where she talks to the dead for those in need. All the critics predicted it would be a huge bomb, but it's been on for years and the ratings are quite good. I guess we're all dead in some ways, trying to regain what's been lost to time, gravity, the relentless amounts of poison we accept while sucking in our guts and pretending that we're not hurt by any of it, not one little bit.
Michelle's Spell of the Day
"Here I am trying to live, or rather, I am trying to teach the death within me how to live." Jean Cocteau
Cocktail Hour
Benedictions and Maledictions
Happy Monday!
7 comments:
I can remember when I was living in Spain for a summer how my host family refered lovingly to my belly at they time as "my curve of happiness" I was floored by how to different cultures viewed the same thing and used different words with different meanings and different attitudes. It wasn't consided fat but a sign that I was eating, drinking and living well..
You're 100% on the money Michelle. women and men trying to live up to a billion dollar ad campaign that says if your not soft and smooth, then you are a fucked up loser.
It can't be done. Even when these thirty and forty year old stars show up on the red Carpet they need ten thousand dollar dresses and suits to hide the body 'neath the fabric.
One of the best pictures I ever saw was a photo of Hillary Clinton dancing on the beach with Bill in a one piece bathing suit with her hail marks showing for all the world to see but she was smiling as she danced. One day a reporter mentioned the papperazi shot and her reply was something to the effect of what is a fifty year old woman supposed to look like a twelve year old?
Hell you have heard the end of my commando days story in a class if I remember right. Aging is a wonderful thing, if nothing else it gives you great stories to tell and that makes up gor any bumpy skin unless it's in your brain.
Peace
mark
Sure we understand actresses are airbrushed. And models.
People who need airbrushing need love, too. Even if that's their name, they probably could use some, since everyone else seems to be in love mostly with who or what they are doing.
Insurance company weight tables don't lie. Check out my "Scarsdale Diet" for the full skinny.
myCajunQ
FoxlyLadyD
SexyRockinMama
JustRight4Me
R2C2
Shzammmmm!!!!!
It's those repeated hail storms that start to wear "me" out.
Post a Comment