Gaga vs Miley - 2013 VMAs

I have been fighting with myself all week over blogging about (or even acknowledging the existence of) the incredibly stupid and self-degrading VMA performance of Miley Montana... or whatever she's called these days.

But, the more I fought myself not to post about it, the more I realized how much I enjoyed Lady Gaga's opening performance and it's unfair that I not mention the award show at all because of one minor train wreck.

My message to the young Miley Cyrus: Someone in a suit somewhere obviously sat you down taught you that obvious lesson that sex sells.  The lesson that pervy exec left out of the course is that there's a not-so-fine line between titillating and trashy, provocative and raunchy, and sensual and sloppy.

Take Lady Gaga. She opened the show with an artistic performance of her newest single "Applause". Starting out with a fully-covered body (somewhat resembling an abstract nun's habit) and singing in an operatic tone.  She had boos and jeers piped into the backup soundtrack and started the show solo, covered up, practically acapella and with a live singing voice. This, apparently, warranting the boos. 

Next scene, two backup dancers join her onstage and she gains a head of hair that is fashioned in a chic bob and a conservative but sequined 80's styled power suit to the sounds of mild clapping.  

As the song progressed, she progressively lost layers of clothing, gained more backup dancers, dramatic lighting increased, her hair swelled and her voice became more auto-tuned (sometimes even purposely holding the mic above her head as her overly-engineered voice still blasted.) 

Her performance ended with her dressed in nothing but sea shells and a g-string, her voice lip-synched, back-up dancers now in the legions and her hair surpassing Diana Ross status in size and texture.  Wolf-whistles and enthusiastic cheers came from the audience and Drake sat in the front row elbowing his neighbor in a "check that a$$ out" fashion.  (Check out the performance yourself by scrolling to the bottom of this web link: http://buzzworthy.mtv.com/2013/08/25/lady-gaga-vma-applause-gifs/.)

Lady Gaga gave us a great social commentary on the modern state of pop music and the industry's seeming disdain for actual talent. This implication that the only way to earn applause and sell music these days is through digitization, gaining a weave and losing a wardrobe is sad, but pretty much spot on.

Then enters Miley, further proving Gaga's point.

I don't need to summarize the performance. Everyone who cared to see it has seen it. Most agree that it lacked taste, purpose and artistic integrity. (Not to mention rhythm and any sort of actual choreography.) If you're going to do shock value, you have to have some sense of reason behind it.  (See Gaga's split-second flash of the bum cheeks.) If Miley's performance had any message, it was simply that "I'm legal now, ya'll!" and apparently also stoned off her rocker.  The one thing she did achieve that night was managing to make Lil' Kim look classy standing next to her.

If the playback of the audience reactions didn't sink in with her (Drake obviously much less impressed with this show of booty) the lesson was still completely lost on her the next day when she bragged online that her performance garnered 306,000 tweets per minute. Had she bothered to actually read any of those tweets, she would have found that they most likely echoed my Facebook newsfeed which was flush with comments of "Gross!", "Nasty!", "My daughter's no longer allowed to listen to her!" and "What a trash bag!!!" 

This does not generate sales, dummy. I will be downloading "Applause". I will never be downloading whatever that was you were promoting. (Was that a song?  A Build-a-Bear special promotion?  I'm still as confused as Willow Smith.)

So the night's true win goes to Lady Gaga who portrayed true artistic integrity and who will earn actual record sales. Also winning, Justin Timberlake, who managed to remain fully clothes while shuffling that middle-aged body through over fifteen minutes of actual choreography and simultaneously reuniting with his NSync alumni to receive the Michael Jackson Vanguard Award.

In closing, Miley Cyrus; please rewatch the show once you've sobered up and follow the example of the true professionals. I hereby sentence you to turtleneck collars, full pairs of pants and four semesters of Julliard training... minimum!  

No parole.

Monster In My Attic

There's a monster living in my bedroom ceiling.

There.  I said it.  Now you know.

It's a nighttime monster that only makes its presence known when the call to slumber has arisen.  Then sounds its internal alarm to haunt and terrorize.  It scratches, claws and nibbles above as I wait for it to gnaw its way through the drywall barrier and drop onto my sleepless self.

I'm not afraid of monsters.  In fact, they're something to adore in daylight.  I see the gentleness in their beady eyes and playfulness in their twitching whiskers.  I think their tiny feet are precious as they pad along through daylit life and their tails like eager little whips beneath the sun.

But come moonlight, the monster has broken the cardinal law of trespassing, for which no twitching whisker can find pardon.

My monster has moved its way further from the corner of the room and closer to the discomfort zone. Directly above my bed.

Scrape, scrape. Chew, chew. My fists pounding above no longer intimidate. The monster is now brazen and impertinent, claiming squatter's rights in an unabandoned home.

I secretly wonder why the circle of life doesn't claim the monster's life by day. There are larger monsters looming both above and below who would find such a twitching monster a delightful treat.

But, everyday my brave monster outwits. Refusing a life as prey and returning ever again.  To gnaw, louder and Louder and LOUDER than ever. A quarter-inch of drywall closer than before.

The gauntlet's been cast and the intrusion no longer stood for. Tonight, he'll find monster traps. Lined and loaded with cunning cheese.

Ever so sorry, Beady Eyes.  You should have responded more politely to the beckon of my fist. This night you will find that participating in the food chain as prey may have been a more noble way to go.  

No Makeup No Filter

Lady Gaga. No makeup, no filter.

I've noticed the emerging trend of celebrities posting bare-faced selfies with the rule "No makeup. No filters." 

I think it's great.  It gives us regular folk that same feeling I described in my last post, replacing, "Oh, they're lumpy too!" with "Oh, they also have puffy eyelids!"

Although, some celebs seem to be cheating... maybe just due to the advantage of privilege with their Botoxed, eyelifted, dyed eyelash "natural" faces.  Or, dare I mention the ones who have (gasp!) actual flawless natural beauty.

It's fun, though, to see those who make a living being completely made-up become unmade.  Not to mention unlit, unedited and unairbrushed.

Then, I noticed a new trend. Regular folk.  Unfamous bloggers posting their own "No makeup. No filters." selfies.

It made me think.  Who doesn't use a "best case scenario" shot as their profile pic?  

My favorite photo edits (besides abusing every exposure and saturation button my photo editing program provides) are airbrushing out three particular facial flaws of mine.  1.) Any zits that have come to roost.  2.) The red scar above my left nostril that came in to being after several decades of living life as the Girl With the Perpetually Runny Nose. 3.) This weird purple vein on the right side on my mouth whose "came into being" story is unknown.

I walk through daily life with my nose dot and face vein completely exposed. I'm not even shy about leaving the house without makeup on a lazy laundry day.  

But, for some reason, nose dots and face veins I deem unfit for life-long posterity on the internet.  Not out of shame or insincerity... but merely because if the "airbrush" button exists, why not use it?!

So I've decided to join the club. (I've already showed you my cellulite for Pete's Sake!)

Here's an airbrushed, edited, crisped up and overly-contrasted picture of myself that was taken just last week.  A particularly ambitious laundry day where I actually ended up doing my hair and makeup for a change:

Of course, this is also my Pinterest profile pic

And, here's my No Makeup No Filter photo taken just this morning. (A regular standard-issue laundry day):

I now realize that I may have misunderstood the rules of the challenge by not bothering to get dressed, comb my hair or even leave the bed before taking it. But, clearly there were no makeup or filters used in the production of this selfie.  

This is an honest look at my morning. (Minus the smile. It took about seven practice shots before I could muster up one of those in the a.m.!) My nose dot is actually on the other side of my face, but I was kind enough to leave one giant pimple on full display (who's creation story involves pub cheese, if you were wondering. Lots and lots of pub cheese.)

So, there you go! It won't be my new profile pic. It won't be pinned anytime soon. But, I personally like knowing that no one is nearly as perfect as their Facebook profile would claim.  

The comfortable thing about this world is that we're all flawed. I may not love all of your flaws (especially if yours is whistling in public...) but I love that we live this life imperfectly together.

P.S. If you're really into a naked face challenge, check out The Naked Face Project.  Sixty days, no makeup, no shaving, no primping. FYI: You won't find me taking this one on unless I'm convalescing at the time.