Showing posts with label pop culture. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pop culture. Show all posts
Thursday, July 15, 2010
#59 The Hills
Oh my god, you guys, are you just as upset as I am that The Hills is, like, absolutely dunzo? I mean, I would totally be wearing all black in mourning but it's, like, 100 degrees outside. (Duuuh.)
Okay, so some of you are, like, probably thinking: Are you for real, Single Girl 1.0? The Hills, REALLY? You're college educated (so?), and aren't you a little too old to be watching that stuff? First of all, shut your face. Secondly, just because I'm old enough to remember when MTV used to, like, actually show music videos, it doesn't mean I'm "too old." Whateveeeer...
You see, guys, The Hills is kind of a big deal. It's, like, a cultural phenomenom recognized by legitimate publications such as Rolling Stone and important people like the President of the United States. I KNOW! Obama watches The Hills! HUGE, right? I wonder if he hosted viewing parties in the White House like I did? (Hey, senators, take a drink everytime Lauren rolls her eyes! Or have a shot when the cast arrives at an SBE-owned nightclub or restaurant!)
The reason why single girls like The Hills is because the producers created something that we can actually RELATE to. I mean, that show about pregnant 15 year olds is, like, totally gross and crazy, and My Super Sweet 16 is just ridiculously tacky (and makes us jealous that our dads aren't billionaire record producers, those lucky bitches).
The Hills is essentially OUR lives, reenacted by thin, young, surgery-enhanced blonde chicks. (And the token brunette. What's up, Audrina!) All of the drama we've sustained with frienemies, boyfriends, girlfriends, girlfriends' boyfriends, etc, is, like, ALL there - in neatly packaged, 30-minute episodes. It's like the producers read our diaries or weblogs. Or something...
The Hills is basically a disclosure of what we single girls truly are: emotional masochists with a penchant for unneccessary theatrics, douchebags and expensive designer shoes. Seriously, think about it.
Remember that episode when Justin Bobby told Audrina he would go to a party with her, then said he couldn't go to the party and she was, like, understandably, a little upset so he "surprised" her and showed up with his completely inappropriate combat boots ON THE BEACH? And then they got into a fight and he ended up leaving ANYWAY and then disappeared on her for DAYS. Oh. My. God. So frustrating! That, like, totally reminded me of a "Justin Bobby" I used to date.
And let's not forget the "Brody Jenners" of our dating repertoire. You know, that guy who is a total player and gets away with hooking up with our girlfriend after he breaks up with us because he is "Brody Jenner." And because he is "Brody Jenner," we remain friends while not-so-secretly pining after him. Meanwhile, he is, like, dating Playboy models and ex-wives of punk rock musicians, and all we can do is sit next to him in a booth at a club giving him the stink-eye over the rim of our martini glass while he checks messages on his Blackberry. (I know! Why does it always have to be so complicated?)
In true single girl style, every piece of dialogue spoken on The Hills was, like, incredibly intense, not to mention poignant. And reflective of our own lives, not everything said was as articulate as it could have been. Example: "He's a sucky person! I hate Spencer, I will never like Spencer!" Wow, LC, that was, like, really sucky.
But then she would redeem herself with gems such as: "The only thing left to do is forgive and forget. I want to forgive you and I want to forget you." Oh, snap! So harsh, but totally something I'd want to say to a girlfriend who was getting married to a guy who spread nasty rumors about me that were published, like, in Us Weekly. Yeah, I KNOW.
Even Audrina - sweet, sorta cross-eyed Audrina with the perpetually vacant stare - once told Justin Bobby: "You're gonna be incapable of loving someone. You're gonna grow up and be a lonely, old man. I hope you do fall in love someday 'cause then maybe you'll actually feel something." You tell 'im, Audrina! Although I wonder how many times she had to practice that speech...
You know how sometimes you, like, find yourself in a situation where you just pause for a moment and think: "Huh. This is my life." Like that time when Whitney got to model an Oscar dress on television on television? (Not being redundant, she was being filmed being filmed on a TV show for a TV show.) Remember how she tripped walking down the stairs? During a LIVE BROADCAST? Oh my GOD, that would totally be, like, something I would do. I felt for her during that episode, I really did.
Or that time when Lauren ruined the Givenchy dress she borrowed for the Crillon Ball in Paris and had to hustle back to the store for a new one? I, like, TOTALLY felt for her in that episode. No, really, I did.
So now that the series is over, what's next for the stars? More nose jobs or butt implants? Most importantly, what's next for us?
Well, as they say, "the rest is still unwritten..."
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
#38 Awards Shows
This past Sunday, single girls around the world set up camp in front of our television sets in anticipation for the celebrity-saturated night that is the Academy Awards. And much like other single girls, I was personally invited to an "Oscar viewing party" at a girlfriend's house. Suggested dress code? Fat pants. (I, of course, arrived in leggings.)
The Academy Awards have often been considered "the Superbowl for women." If such is the case, the "post-season" also includes the Grammy Awards, Golden Globe Awards, Screen Actors Guild Awards and Independent Spirit Awards.
Much like the Superbowl, a viewing party starts hours before the main event. Our "pre-game" show is the red carpet show. While dudes sit on the couch with tortilla chips and a big bowl of queso listening to commentators discuss football statistics, we're sitting on the couch with tortilla chips and a big bowl of queso (and goat cheese and crackers and fondue and bread and mushroom turnovers and brownies) listening to commentators discuss couture gowns.
Do we really care who wins the trophy? Yes, of course. Why else do we print up faux Oscar ballots and play eenie-meenie-minie-moe choosing what we think is Best Documentary Short? This Sunday night, especially, we all cheered as Kathryn Bigelow won Best Director over her ex-husband, James Cameron.
Otherwise, we mostly care about who wins on the red carpet.
This year, we joined Jay from America's Next Top Model and please-eat-a-hamburger, boobalicious Giuliana Rancic on E! as they used a telestrator (just like in the Superbowl! I half expected John Madden to bust into the frame, no really) to literally point at various aspects of an actress' gown. There is no shortage of commentary for a truly bizarre ensemble. Remember Bjork's swan dress (with matching egg purse!) from 2001? We're STILL talking about it!
Now, if we had to recognize one distinguishing asset of being a single girl, it's our ability to criticize to no end. And we especially like to disparage women who are younger, thinner, prettier, wealthier and more successful than we. (Predominantly, supermodels and actresses.)
Who is wearing Spanx? How many Botox injections has Demi Moore had at this point? Why didn't George Clooney get his hair cut? Who is that awful creature with him? And what is she wearing? (This spawned a whole flood of snarky condemnations.) Charlize Theron, REALLY? Miley Cyrus, is your dress too tight for you to stand up straight? And Vera Farmiga, you look like one big tranny mess.
Does criticism burn more calories than compliments? We certainly hope so after that cheese and carb binge.
The Academy Awards have often been considered "the Superbowl for women." If such is the case, the "post-season" also includes the Grammy Awards, Golden Globe Awards, Screen Actors Guild Awards and Independent Spirit Awards.
Much like the Superbowl, a viewing party starts hours before the main event. Our "pre-game" show is the red carpet show. While dudes sit on the couch with tortilla chips and a big bowl of queso listening to commentators discuss football statistics, we're sitting on the couch with tortilla chips and a big bowl of queso (and goat cheese and crackers and fondue and bread and mushroom turnovers and brownies) listening to commentators discuss couture gowns.
Do we really care who wins the trophy? Yes, of course. Why else do we print up faux Oscar ballots and play eenie-meenie-minie-moe choosing what we think is Best Documentary Short? This Sunday night, especially, we all cheered as Kathryn Bigelow won Best Director over her ex-husband, James Cameron.
Otherwise, we mostly care about who wins on the red carpet.
This year, we joined Jay from America's Next Top Model and please-eat-a-hamburger, boobalicious Giuliana Rancic on E! as they used a telestrator (just like in the Superbowl! I half expected John Madden to bust into the frame, no really) to literally point at various aspects of an actress' gown. There is no shortage of commentary for a truly bizarre ensemble. Remember Bjork's swan dress (with matching egg purse!) from 2001? We're STILL talking about it!
Now, if we had to recognize one distinguishing asset of being a single girl, it's our ability to criticize to no end. And we especially like to disparage women who are younger, thinner, prettier, wealthier and more successful than we. (Predominantly, supermodels and actresses.)
Who is wearing Spanx? How many Botox injections has Demi Moore had at this point? Why didn't George Clooney get his hair cut? Who is that awful creature with him? And what is she wearing? (This spawned a whole flood of snarky condemnations.) Charlize Theron, REALLY? Miley Cyrus, is your dress too tight for you to stand up straight? And Vera Farmiga, you look like one big tranny mess.
Does criticism burn more calories than compliments? We certainly hope so after that cheese and carb binge.
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
#37 Leggings*
*a running commentary on elastic waistbands
Aside from the remake of The Parent Trap in which a young and talented Lindsay Lohan brilliantly played the role of both Hallie Parker and Annie James, perhaps the only other contribution this tabloid sensation and celebrity trainwreck has made to (wo)mankind has been the resurgence of leggings.
We all agree how socially inacceptable it is to leave the house in your "fat pants" unless you are working on your fitness at the gym or coming home from a yoga/pilates class. Even wearing sweatpants while walking the dog aroundcertain most neighborhoods in Los Anjealous could be considered a fashion faux pas.
Certainly, the initial months of leggings' second coming in the 21st century was met with mixed feelings from single girls around the world. Celebrities like Mary Kate and Ashley Olsen, Mischa Barton and Agyness Deyn could get away with wearing a t-shirt, leggings and $700 Louboutins. But those of us in the general population have not seen nor touched a pair of leggings since the 1980s. (Remember stirrups?)
Leggings: Are they really pants?? The fashion world was in a tizzy over this controversial query and leggings were met with some initial resistance. We thought the trend would past. That was five years ago.
Since then, leggings have become a staple in a single girl's wardrobe. American Apparel sells them in a dozen colors and differents textures. Yes, even gold lamé. The latest craze is currently denim leggings or jeggings (jeans+leggings). We have come to embrace this trend (maybe not the gold lamé) for good reason: leggings are really fat pants. And we can wear them in public.
Leggings are the perfect merger of comfort and style; they are the consummate alternative to skinny jeans. Suddenly, we can live our lives like we've never lived before. Hallelujah! A single girl's secret desire has been fulfilled. Yes, eating. A lot. In public. Food babies? Who cares?
The versatility of leggings and their elastic waistbands is also worthy of worship:
- Problem: fat day. Solution: leggings.
- Problem: skirts and dresses during cold winters. Solution: leggings.
- Problem: shrunken mini dress turned tunic. Solution: leggings.
As are its merits:
- Opportunity: movie night at a boy's house.
Suggestion: leggings. Best for curling up on the couch and cuddling.
- Opportunity: movie night turned sleepover at a boy's house.
Suggestion: leggings. Pairs well with a men's collared shirt the next day.
- Opportunity: last-minute costume party.
Suggestion: leggings. Specifically of the black latex variety. There's a reason why Catwoman is one of the most sexy villainesses of all time.
We never thought we would say this, but thank you, Lindsay Lohan, from the bottom of our (food babies') hearts.
Aside from the remake of The Parent Trap in which a young and talented Lindsay Lohan brilliantly played the role of both Hallie Parker and Annie James, perhaps the only other contribution this tabloid sensation and celebrity trainwreck has made to (wo)mankind has been the resurgence of leggings.
We all agree how socially inacceptable it is to leave the house in your "fat pants" unless you are working on your fitness at the gym or coming home from a yoga/pilates class. Even wearing sweatpants while walking the dog around
Certainly, the initial months of leggings' second coming in the 21st century was met with mixed feelings from single girls around the world. Celebrities like Mary Kate and Ashley Olsen, Mischa Barton and Agyness Deyn could get away with wearing a t-shirt, leggings and $700 Louboutins. But those of us in the general population have not seen nor touched a pair of leggings since the 1980s. (Remember stirrups?)
Leggings: Are they really pants?? The fashion world was in a tizzy over this controversial query and leggings were met with some initial resistance. We thought the trend would past. That was five years ago.
Since then, leggings have become a staple in a single girl's wardrobe. American Apparel sells them in a dozen colors and differents textures. Yes, even gold lamé. The latest craze is currently denim leggings or jeggings (jeans+leggings). We have come to embrace this trend (maybe not the gold lamé) for good reason: leggings are really fat pants. And we can wear them in public.
Leggings are the perfect merger of comfort and style; they are the consummate alternative to skinny jeans. Suddenly, we can live our lives like we've never lived before. Hallelujah! A single girl's secret desire has been fulfilled. Yes, eating. A lot. In public. Food babies? Who cares?
The versatility of leggings and their elastic waistbands is also worthy of worship:
- Problem: fat day. Solution: leggings.
- Problem: skirts and dresses during cold winters. Solution: leggings.
- Problem: shrunken mini dress turned tunic. Solution: leggings.
As are its merits:
- Opportunity: movie night at a boy's house.
Suggestion: leggings. Best for curling up on the couch and cuddling.
- Opportunity: movie night turned sleepover at a boy's house.
Suggestion: leggings. Pairs well with a men's collared shirt the next day.
- Opportunity: last-minute costume party.
Suggestion: leggings. Specifically of the black latex variety. There's a reason why Catwoman is one of the most sexy villainesses of all time.
We never thought we would say this, but thank you, Lindsay Lohan, from the bottom of our (food babies') hearts.
Friday, February 19, 2010
#36 Our Love/Hate Relationship With Romantic Comedies
Like other single girls I know, I was one of many who saw Valentine's Day this past weekend on appropriately, Valentine's Day. Apparently there are quite a number of us single girls out there - Valentine's Day opened at number one, raking in over $52 million. Hollywood hasn't seen numbers like this since Avatard last December!
While I was rather taken by the film (Bradley Cooper! Eric Dane! Patrick Dempsey! All at once!) and thought Garry Marshall created a nice homage to our fair city of Los Angeles, my girlfriend thought it made single girls look like crazy bitches around Valentine's Day. (Um, because we are?) Thanks, Jessica Biel!
Single girls have been conditioned to cherish the notion of true love overcoming all obstacles since our Snow White and Cinderella-watching days. Our first introduction to romantic comedies came in the form of The Princess Bride. (An easy transition with the princess and handsome hero thing still going on.) This subsequently led to Pretty Woman, The Cutting Edge, Sleepless in Seattle, and so on and so forth.
Pretty soon, we were mock wailing to friends, "I'M NOT JOSIE GROSSIE ANYMORE!"
For 120 minutes, we sit in blissful ignorance mooning over Hugh Grant or Matthew McConaughey or Ryan Reynolds as they attempt to reunite with their true loves. And then the GRAND GESTURE! She is just a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to love her! And then we cry about it. WE CAN'T HELP IT! WE HAVE BEEN BRAINWASHED TO DO THIS! EVERY TIME! Ugh, it kills me.
Why are we compelled to watch a rom-com on television even though we own the DVD or have already seen it 100 times? (I never tire of How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days.) Hollywood studios strategically release their shitty films, generally romantic comedies, around Oscar season. Because they know WOMEN WILL STILL SEE THEM. How many more commercials do I have to see for Leap Year or When in Rome? (I have yet to see either. For now.)
Single girls love romantic comedies because nothing is better than observing two people find true love and live happily ever after despite all odds. Never mind that they're actors! Never mind it's not real!
After the giddy initial reaction that overcomes us from witnessing two people fall in love (again, never mind that they're actors and it's not real), reality begins to settle back in and we fall into a state of post rom-com depression.
We wonder how we will ever find true love if these heroines with the perfect bodies, immaculate hair, amazing apartments, and glamourous jobs are having the same problems we do? Do they really have the same problems with dating men that we do? We wonder why all of our life's problems are not resolved in 120 minutes?
Like, really, Jennifer Garner? Are you actually going to fall in love with your dead fiance's best friend? Oh, no, J. Lo! Just your luck, of COURSE you fall for the groom of a wedding you are planning! I totally want to trade apartments with somebody in England and fall in love with her handsome brother even though he is a widower and has two daughters.
Most importantly, we hate romantic comedies because they lead us to have unrealistic expectations of men. And the more we date and the more men we are exposed to, the more we realize how obnoxiously unsettling rom-coms really are. Where are these guys who will tell us "You complete me" or "You make me want to be a better man"? When will I tell someone to shut up, just shut up, because he had me at "hello"?
Even the "bad boys" in these films end up redeeming themselves. The jaded and cynical asshole is really heartbroken over a dead wife or a girlfriend/fiancee who cheated on him. (With his best friend, of course.) In reality, are we supposed to believe that men are assholes because it's a defense mechanism against further heartache? Or are they just simply assholes?
The worst rom-coms are the ones that intentionally manipulate our emotions. Okay, kill Gerard Butler in the second scene and then have his wife go on some international scavenger hunt without him, given various clues here and there from alive-Gerard Butler only to remind us that he is really DEAD. My friend was bawling every ten minutes watching that film. (PS I Love You, for you emotional masochists.)
If my love life were a film, it would be an epic romantic disaster with nuances of horror and comedy.
While I was rather taken by the film (Bradley Cooper! Eric Dane! Patrick Dempsey! All at once!) and thought Garry Marshall created a nice homage to our fair city of Los Angeles, my girlfriend thought it made single girls look like crazy bitches around Valentine's Day. (Um, because we are?) Thanks, Jessica Biel!
Single girls have been conditioned to cherish the notion of true love overcoming all obstacles since our Snow White and Cinderella-watching days. Our first introduction to romantic comedies came in the form of The Princess Bride. (An easy transition with the princess and handsome hero thing still going on.) This subsequently led to Pretty Woman, The Cutting Edge, Sleepless in Seattle, and so on and so forth.
Pretty soon, we were mock wailing to friends, "I'M NOT JOSIE GROSSIE ANYMORE!"
For 120 minutes, we sit in blissful ignorance mooning over Hugh Grant or Matthew McConaughey or Ryan Reynolds as they attempt to reunite with their true loves. And then the GRAND GESTURE! She is just a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to love her! And then we cry about it. WE CAN'T HELP IT! WE HAVE BEEN BRAINWASHED TO DO THIS! EVERY TIME! Ugh, it kills me.
Why are we compelled to watch a rom-com on television even though we own the DVD or have already seen it 100 times? (I never tire of How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days.) Hollywood studios strategically release their shitty films, generally romantic comedies, around Oscar season. Because they know WOMEN WILL STILL SEE THEM. How many more commercials do I have to see for Leap Year or When in Rome? (I have yet to see either. For now.)
Single girls love romantic comedies because nothing is better than observing two people find true love and live happily ever after despite all odds. Never mind that they're actors! Never mind it's not real!
After the giddy initial reaction that overcomes us from witnessing two people fall in love (again, never mind that they're actors and it's not real), reality begins to settle back in and we fall into a state of post rom-com depression.
We wonder how we will ever find true love if these heroines with the perfect bodies, immaculate hair, amazing apartments, and glamourous jobs are having the same problems we do? Do they really have the same problems with dating men that we do? We wonder why all of our life's problems are not resolved in 120 minutes?
Like, really, Jennifer Garner? Are you actually going to fall in love with your dead fiance's best friend? Oh, no, J. Lo! Just your luck, of COURSE you fall for the groom of a wedding you are planning! I totally want to trade apartments with somebody in England and fall in love with her handsome brother even though he is a widower and has two daughters.
Most importantly, we hate romantic comedies because they lead us to have unrealistic expectations of men. And the more we date and the more men we are exposed to, the more we realize how obnoxiously unsettling rom-coms really are. Where are these guys who will tell us "You complete me" or "You make me want to be a better man"? When will I tell someone to shut up, just shut up, because he had me at "hello"?
Even the "bad boys" in these films end up redeeming themselves. The jaded and cynical asshole is really heartbroken over a dead wife or a girlfriend/fiancee who cheated on him. (With his best friend, of course.) In reality, are we supposed to believe that men are assholes because it's a defense mechanism against further heartache? Or are they just simply assholes?
The worst rom-coms are the ones that intentionally manipulate our emotions. Okay, kill Gerard Butler in the second scene and then have his wife go on some international scavenger hunt without him, given various clues here and there from alive-Gerard Butler only to remind us that he is really DEAD. My friend was bawling every ten minutes watching that film. (PS I Love You, for you emotional masochists.)
If my love life were a film, it would be an epic romantic disaster with nuances of horror and comedy.
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
#17 Breakfast at Tiffany's
Note: This is in reference to the 1961 film starring Audrey Hepburn and directed by Blake Edwards, not the novella by Truman Capote on which the film was based nor the catchy 1996 song by Deep Blue Something.
Enter the dwelling of any single girl and you will most likely find a DVD of Breakfast at Tiffany's and/or a framed black and white poster of a scene from said film.
So what is it about Breakfast at Tiffany's that causes us single girls to idolize it so much that we have things hanging on our walls to honor it? I will admit the plot of the film is rather silly and ridiculous at times, but the life of a single girl can BE rather silly and ridiculous more often than not.
Single girls love Breakfast at Tiffany's because Audrey Hepburn's role as Holly Golightly is a single girl's icon. (And not just because of the Givenchy wardrobe.)
In a lot of ways, Holly is just like us: naturally flirtatious, commitment phobic, charmingly quirky, unabashedly shallow, and secretly vulnerable. She throws random parties, dates guys for money, and sleeps with her neighbor. She is leaving the dream! And of course, she is "CRAZY about Tiffany's!" Aren't we all? She probably eats over the sink, too.
Who can forget the first scene in the film as Holly alights from a taxi in New York and nibbles on a croissant in front of Tiffany & Co. on Fifth Avenue? It is early morning but she is decked in a long gown (Givenchy, of course), elbow length gloves, giant pearls and a mini-tiara. Her hair is immaculate. Yes, she has sunglasses on, but wouldn't you? I dare any other girl to look this amazing OWNING the walk of shame as Holly does. Nobody can do it quite like Holly Golightly.
Like us, Holly isn't perfect. She certainly has issues - she was once married to an older man, has been arrested, and is somewhat of a kleptomaniac. Despite her flaws, she is still so captivating, her hunky neighbor chases her through the rain to profess his love AND helps find her cat in an alley to boot.
Us single girls can only hope that we are alluring enough to be chased through the rain by a man worthy of our affection. It gives us another reason to wear that trenchcoat.
Enter the dwelling of any single girl and you will most likely find a DVD of Breakfast at Tiffany's and/or a framed black and white poster of a scene from said film.
So what is it about Breakfast at Tiffany's that causes us single girls to idolize it so much that we have things hanging on our walls to honor it? I will admit the plot of the film is rather silly and ridiculous at times, but the life of a single girl can BE rather silly and ridiculous more often than not.
Single girls love Breakfast at Tiffany's because Audrey Hepburn's role as Holly Golightly is a single girl's icon. (And not just because of the Givenchy wardrobe.)
In a lot of ways, Holly is just like us: naturally flirtatious, commitment phobic, charmingly quirky, unabashedly shallow, and secretly vulnerable. She throws random parties, dates guys for money, and sleeps with her neighbor. She is leaving the dream! And of course, she is "CRAZY about Tiffany's!" Aren't we all? She probably eats over the sink, too.
Who can forget the first scene in the film as Holly alights from a taxi in New York and nibbles on a croissant in front of Tiffany & Co. on Fifth Avenue? It is early morning but she is decked in a long gown (Givenchy, of course), elbow length gloves, giant pearls and a mini-tiara. Her hair is immaculate. Yes, she has sunglasses on, but wouldn't you? I dare any other girl to look this amazing OWNING the walk of shame as Holly does. Nobody can do it quite like Holly Golightly.
Like us, Holly isn't perfect. She certainly has issues - she was once married to an older man, has been arrested, and is somewhat of a kleptomaniac. Despite her flaws, she is still so captivating, her hunky neighbor chases her through the rain to profess his love AND helps find her cat in an alley to boot.
Us single girls can only hope that we are alluring enough to be chased through the rain by a man worthy of our affection. It gives us another reason to wear that trenchcoat.
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
#10 Chuck Bass
After a little bit of fact-checking, we did confirm that Chuck Bass is indeed 18 years old, and ergo, there is nothing illegal about us single girls liking Chuck Bass.
Now some of you may be unfamiliar with Chuck Bass and to that, I say, "For shame!" As the antihero of the CW's drama series Gossip Girl, Chuck Bass is a teenage billionaire and the Upper East Side's resident playboy. He is charming, well-dressed, handsome, and although his salacious behavior is questionable, he is a single girl's guilty pleasure. And did we mention he's rich?
Single girls are notorious for liking the wrong guys - bad boys, assholes, douchebags, jerks. (Can we help it that all the "normal" ones are getting themselves married off on match dot com? Idiots.) Our grandmothers had Marlon Brando in The Wild One, our mothers had John Travolta in Grease, we have Chuck Bass. Who needs motorcycles and leather jackets when Chuck Bass has limousines and Armani suits?
Chuck's sexploits have become so legendary, Britney Spears dedicated a song to him in the form of "Womanizer." (He's kind of a big deal, y'all!) He may only be 18-years old, but Chuck seems to be quite the experienced young lad, and this is something single girls definitely like (especially since dudes reach their sexual peak between 18-22). He puts the F in OMFG.
Chuck's pick-up line is simply: "I'm Chuck Bass." And it works! Every time! You see, his (so bad, it's good) reputation obviously preceeds him. Billionaires can be quite influential. And clever. And manipulative when provoked. When Chuck isn't getting himself out of a sticky situation by paying off the NYPD, he's getting his friends out of sticky situations by putting them on one-way flights to South America (on his private jet, no less). Bernie Madoff needed Chuck Bass in his corner.
Single girls like a guy who knows his labels. Chuck was bred to prefer Dom Perignon over Cook's, Wolford over Leggs, and Valrhona over Hershey's. Impeccably dressed (in a three-piece Prada, of course) and perfectly coiffed, when we meet a guy who can take care of himself, that leaves us more time to take care of ourselves.
Ok, so what if he's a man-whore? So what if he likes deflowering high school girls in the back of his limo? So what if he has a douchey demeanor? So what if he kissed a boy? It's hard being a billionaire in Manhattan! His mom died giving birth to him! His dad has been marrried several times, and then died suddenly in a freak car accident! He's an orphan! His best friend is dating the girl he is in love with! His uncle is trying to steal all his money! This guy has ISSUES!! And let's not forget that his stepsister is Serena van der Woodsen. She has even more issues than he does! We give his "flaws" (understatement of the year) carte blanche because, he's, well, Chuck Bass.
I mean, really, how can we resist his smoldering glare, his chiseled jaw, his arrogant charm, and the fact that he owns a hotel? What other "bad boy" will take us to Bendel's and Bergdorf in his limo while sipping on Dom the whole day?
You know you love him...xoxo.
Now some of you may be unfamiliar with Chuck Bass and to that, I say, "For shame!" As the antihero of the CW's drama series Gossip Girl, Chuck Bass is a teenage billionaire and the Upper East Side's resident playboy. He is charming, well-dressed, handsome, and although his salacious behavior is questionable, he is a single girl's guilty pleasure. And did we mention he's rich?
Single girls are notorious for liking the wrong guys - bad boys, assholes, douchebags, jerks. (Can we help it that all the "normal" ones are getting themselves married off on match dot com? Idiots.) Our grandmothers had Marlon Brando in The Wild One, our mothers had John Travolta in Grease, we have Chuck Bass. Who needs motorcycles and leather jackets when Chuck Bass has limousines and Armani suits?
Chuck's sexploits have become so legendary, Britney Spears dedicated a song to him in the form of "Womanizer." (He's kind of a big deal, y'all!) He may only be 18-years old, but Chuck seems to be quite the experienced young lad, and this is something single girls definitely like (especially since dudes reach their sexual peak between 18-22). He puts the F in OMFG.
Chuck's pick-up line is simply: "I'm Chuck Bass." And it works! Every time! You see, his (so bad, it's good) reputation obviously preceeds him. Billionaires can be quite influential. And clever. And manipulative when provoked. When Chuck isn't getting himself out of a sticky situation by paying off the NYPD, he's getting his friends out of sticky situations by putting them on one-way flights to South America (on his private jet, no less). Bernie Madoff needed Chuck Bass in his corner.
Single girls like a guy who knows his labels. Chuck was bred to prefer Dom Perignon over Cook's, Wolford over Leggs, and Valrhona over Hershey's. Impeccably dressed (in a three-piece Prada, of course) and perfectly coiffed, when we meet a guy who can take care of himself, that leaves us more time to take care of ourselves.
Ok, so what if he's a man-whore? So what if he likes deflowering high school girls in the back of his limo? So what if he has a douchey demeanor? So what if he kissed a boy? It's hard being a billionaire in Manhattan! His mom died giving birth to him! His dad has been marrried several times, and then died suddenly in a freak car accident! He's an orphan! His best friend is dating the girl he is in love with! His uncle is trying to steal all his money! This guy has ISSUES!! And let's not forget that his stepsister is Serena van der Woodsen. She has even more issues than he does! We give his "flaws" (understatement of the year) carte blanche because, he's, well, Chuck Bass.
I mean, really, how can we resist his smoldering glare, his chiseled jaw, his arrogant charm, and the fact that he owns a hotel? What other "bad boy" will take us to Bendel's and Bergdorf in his limo while sipping on Dom the whole day?
You know you love him...xoxo.
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
#2 Kelly Clarkson
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAj_ibUB7O0eUrBaH4lSYLcWvrd5c-lRmo0LCZ6Weam3hix8pffOfScRnmnQm0DXMxMP8_t2JgPYDFpZZSU1F56XCisviyOOCoXFDjwdYuOLwISO37HzB5E2_yl-fuMsi8-qV-XFjaq2_v/s320/kelly+clarkson.jpg)
"Miss Independent?" Oh yes, that is our song. See, single girls are very protective of our hearts. We know what heartaches and heart breaks do to our serially monogamous girlfriends - they turn into blubbering, weepy messes. Ugh. However, deep down, single girls secretly want to fall in love. So we meet this guy and he's pretty awesome. Kelly says, maybe we don't want to "miss out on true love?" I mean, every single girl (pun?) waits for "A Moment Like This," right?
Okay, so that is the last time we listen to you, Kelly. Because that "awesome" guy we opened our hearts to ended up being a complete douchebag. And suddenly we become that heart broken, blubbering, weepy mess. While we're boozily blaming Kelly for all this over our fifth vodka martini ("This is all 'Because of You,' Kelly!"), she's saying how we need to "Breakaway" or "Walk Away" or something... But we're not really paying attention because we're trying to tell her what "The Trouble With Love Is..." before we pass out.
Love stinks, and Kelly feels bad. So she writes us a new catchy anthem to sing to at the top of our lungs: at bars, at clubs, in our cars with the windows rolled down, even in the shower. Oh yes. "Since U Been Gone." Now this is OUR song. It has f*ck you, asshole, written all over it!
I mean, here's the thing. We did start out friends. It was cool! But it was all pretend! I even fell for that stupid love song! UGH! How dare he!! Let's go to the apartment that he shares with his skanky new girlfriend (they just met, how are they living together already anyway??) and trash the place. Let's throw shit from their medicine cabinet all over the bathroom floor! And pull all the clothes off their hangers in the closet! And jump on their stupid bed that they probably have bad sex on every night! Let's rip out all the feathers from their pillows while we're at it! How do we get him where it'll hurt the most? Let's destroy his precious vinyl records collection! Genius! (Who listens to vinyls these days, anyway. Exactly. Dirty fuckin' hipsters.)
Oh. My. God. That felt GREAT. You know what? I think I can breathe for the first time! I'm SO movin' on. (Yeah, yeeeeaaaaah.) Okay, Kelly, we forgive you for putting us in that dumb love situation. And thanks for helping us trash his apartment.
Really, Kelly, I think "My Life Would Suck Without You." Despite that horrible album you made where you pissed off your record label (don't worry, nobody listened to it anyway), despite your questionable choices in fashion (we can help!), despite your fluctuating weight (we get it! Some of us are emotional eaters, too!), and despite those rumors that you are a lesbian (it doesn't bother us!), single girls think you rock.
And don't worry, now that I'm single and dating again, "I Do Not Hook Up" in bars anymore. That was sooo 2005. Those days are "Already Gone."
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