I was vastly enjoying my friend's stash of People magazines today while her amazingly beguiling 8 month old was taking a nap, and I was struck by how messed up celebrities are, and how much they infiltrate and influence the everyday populace.
You read these magazines, and you start to get into their mindset. Good = skeletal, blond, fully made up, expensively and scantily dressed. Bad = over size 2, undone hair, no make-up, jeans and a t-shirt. Which, to be quite honest, describes me and lots of my friends on the average day. We're freakin' moms, and we don't have 4 hours and $400 a day to dedicate to looking good! And yet strangers casually judge us based on these unattainable beauty and exercise ideals.
It's a load of manure, in my opinion.
Whatever happened to the concept of a help meet? Of being self-sufficient, frugal, thoughtful, creative? Think of Laura Ingalls' Ma on the prairie-- was there ANYTHING she couldn't do? Can Denise Richards do half of the things we do, or can she just look thin and beautiful while whining about Charlie Sheen and blinding people with her enormous, ultraviolet teeth?
How much is she going to be worth when the zombie apocalypse occurs?
I think i'm going to be a hot commodity when society breaks down. Here are some of the many things I can do that your average Hollywood starlet couldn't accomplish with two trainers, a manual, and a dictionary:
- I can card, spin, knit, and weave. I can make fabric and garments! Like, from nothing! From sheep, or bunnies, or cats, or cotton, or linen. And I can make my own patterns and sew, although I suppose i'll need a treadle machine when electricity runs out and my hand Kenmore becomes a rather large doorstop.
- I can dig holes, start fires, cut down trees, build things. Whether you want to bury something, eat something, or make a shelter, I can help. And not complain about the dirt under my nails, neither.
- I can pick up snakes, catch and clean fish, shoot a compound bow, and cook mostly anything. Although i'm not allowed to pick up snakes while pregnant. Craig's orders.
Society as a whole seems to forget that while outward signs of attraction are supposedly great at attracting mates, your life is going to be much richer if you choose someone who also has interests and skills besides matching yellow shoes to blue dresses and making out with Benicio del Toro in elevators. Then we get heinous carwrecks like Paris Hilton who are famous simply for... being famous... and we start to realize that it pays to look deeper. I would argue that Denise Richards isn't at all complicated-- she's just an idiot who messes up every single aspect of her life and expects money and fame for allowing us to watch her fail pathetically.
I suppose my point is this: I'm sitting here right now in paint-stained pajama pants with stubble on my legs and old, crooked glasses and pregnancy acne and my white-streaked hair up in a bun, and I could definitely be the highlight of Cosmo's "DON'T" page. But today I helped a friend, painted a painting, sewed a kickass item of clothing from scratch, fed my family, taught my child, and did 3 crossword puzzles.
What did Denise Richards do today that was special or different or helpful? NOTHING.
And when the zombies come... she'll be reprising her role in "Drop Dead Gorgeous", except it'll be zombies instead of Kirstie Alley that do her in.
Well, maybe not. Kirstie might be hungry, too.