I briefly checked tumblr’s “Lana Del Rey” tag to see if anything amusing would pop up and I found someone’s long text post criticizing the silly Lana Del Rey article I wrote for Hello Giggles that was only posted an hour ago.
It was really amusing to see how someone who is not me (and who has disabled all asks and fan mail options, thereby making it impossible to start a real dialogue) saw the article.
It’s completely true that my article keeps in the tone of Hello Giggles, which means it’s not critical, not mean and skews undeniably girly. That’s the audience that reads Hello Giggles and that’s the audience I have to write for when I write for Hello Giggles (and I choose to write this way because I like fun, silly challenges). As writers for that specific site, we’re not supposed to be snarky or cruel. It’s a challenge when you want to criticize a public figure, but it’s also a fun creative challenge to find a way to comically address a popular topic without resorting to the usual negative banter.
Writing about Lana Del Rey was specifically difficult because there’s a lot about her you can cruelly make fun of. I mean, in the article I mention her disaster of a Saturday Night Live performance, her probable lip enhancement, her inane lyrics, and her melodramatic videos. However, I was unable to take the most infamous parts of her public image and use them against her. I had to mention the topics, but in a kind sort of way.
I chose to base the article around the idea that I was having cocktails with Lana Del Rey because it is my belief, that no matter how much you dislike a person if you had to sit down face-to-face and have a drink, you’d try to be polite and you’d try to form a human connection. Also, ladies be liking cocktails. I also tried to use the conceit that I was getting drunker and sillier as a narrator to my advantage. Therefore the fool in the piece is me, not Lana Del Rey. Still, as I mentioned, if you enter the article disliking her, I allude enough to her failings that you will still hate her after reading it. If you like Lana Del Rey, you’ll still like her. If you’re indifferent, you’ll probably just laugh at how awkward my persona in the article is.
It is a very stupid and very silly piece. It was not intended to be an intelligent critical work on Del Rey. For that, you should visit Sasha Frere-Jones.
Finally, here’s something I would proffer to people who dislike the tone of Hello Giggles: stop reading it. It’s not meant to offend anyone. It’s meant to offer a fun, friendly, supportive online resource for women who just want to decompress for fifteen minutes. To suggest that its very existence as a site should be scorched from the internet because it betrays some lofty ideal you have of womanhood and feminism also suggests that there is only one acceptable manner for a woman to be a woman or a feminist.
I was having dinner last week with someone and I told her that one thing that really jars me as an adult woman writing in lady blog world is this idea that there’s a perfect way to be a feminist woman—or that one blog is superior to another merely based on tone. I was raised in a household where I had a single mother, three very different older sisters and all female role models. My mother encouraged all her daughters to make their own choices for themselves in life. We could play sports, excel in math and science and put on a pretty dress for prom. Or, we didn’t have to. I’m just saying you should take my Lana Del Rey article for what it is: fluff written on a deadline. And as a woman, I’m allowed to write fluff and other women are allowed to read fluff. You’re allowed to be offended by it and other women are allowed to enjoy it.
For the record, my actual opinion on Lana Del Rey is this: she is a silly pop star. She is a piece of fluff. I am offended by some aspects of her persona, and amused by other parts. Ultimately, she’s fun to talk about. That’s what the piece was supposed to be about: fun.
Do you know what’s more important? The silliness that Newt Gingrich is offering up as serious debate in the Presidential primaries. That’s why I actually worked it in with my silly Lana Del Rey fluff. Because I want the women who are looking for fluff to skim over it and then later equate ridiculousness in politics with ridiculousness in pop music.
Hey I was just wondering if you had business cards? What kind of information did you put on it? I'm thinking of getting some myself :)
I do have business cards. I got them from moo and they are the best. Moo is pricier than other sites (because you actually have to pay them money), but the result is you get a much higher quality card that people always comment on and remember.
On one side of my card is my head shot. On the other is:
I'm curious as to more of your opinion on "nerd girl"-"nerd guy" relations. And congratulations on the Dorothy Parker project (does that predate or post-date the Alan Parsons Project?); I'm certainly interested in seeing it once April rolls around.
Oh boy…here we go.
If I could tell “nerd boys” just one thing it would be that we’re all okay.
But…seriously…before you take any of what I’m about to say to heart, please note that my opinion is derived from my own personal experience. I know tons of great “nerd girl”-“nerd guy” couples (and I’m putting “nerd” in quotes because the term causes such controversy as to what it describes—which is a huge part of my problem with “nerd” relations. People try to categorize you based upon your interest in things as opposed to who you are and what you do).
For myself, I’ve never particularly had much luck dating within the “nerd” community. Usually, it’s because I feel the “nerd guys” I run into don’t like me for me, but because I’m a “nerd”. They put the emphasis on what I like over who I am. I’ve literally met intelligent adult men who pissed themselves upon meeting me because I like comic books, like comedy and have red hair. That didn’t flatter me like I’m sure it was intended. It made me feel like I was their mail order nerd girl bride. They never asked me why I liked Dune or Saturday Night Live. They just assumed because they liked those things and I liked those things, I was put on Earth to make them feel less alone. It’s sweet, but disconcerting. I’m no man’s pixie manic dream girl. I’m a woman with her own shit to sort through.
I’ve also had “nerdish” guy friends complain to me about how girls don’t like nice guys. I once did an improv scene where the girl I was playing rejected the guy in the scene, and afterwards another team member was like, “You should have gone out with him! He was nice!” To which I all-too-bluntly replied, “Yeah, but I didn’t want to fuck him.”
A good romantic partner needs a number of attributes in my opinion:
1. The Kindness/Honesty/Loyalty factor. Yes. Yes. Don’t be a douche.
2. Interesting personalty/similar interests/hobbies. I need to know you’re a well-rounded, intelligent individual with things to do, things to say and men to see horses about. Don’t be boring.
3. Confidence/style/pheromones. I have to want to fuck you.
You would think that 1 + 2 would equal 3, and trust me, they do not. There are many people in this world who are cool with dating someone with just 1 or 2 or even neither. I am not. This is why I’m a picky bitch who’s usually single. It’s just how I do. I don’t want to fuck anyone I don’t want to fuck. I can’t control whom I want to fuck intellectually. It’s all physical. And I don’t want to fuck anyone who is a horrible or boring human being. I have these weird things called standards. The result is that when I find someone with all three attributes who also wants to date me, the experience is AMAZING.
Now, here’s the rub—I can find a guy with all three attributes, but that doesn’t mean I fit all of his. It’s like the reverse of the guy who made me feel like I was a mail order nerd bride. Ultimately, two people have to like each other as people. The emphasis should always be placed upon who the individual is and not what categories they fit in your mind. If I’m coming across as slightly hypocritical with my lists and such, believe me, I know. I have this problem, too. The only solution is to remember that there are no rules to love. You can’t earn affection from people just by being nice or liking the same things or even being the best. People just like whom they like. They can’t control it.
Essentially, what I’m trying to inarticulately say is that love is a bitch. Just because two nice people both like Star Wars doesn’t mean they’ll like each other. Because love is a bitch like that.
Does that answer your questions? I emphasized the dating part of the “nerd girl”-“nerd guy” thing because that’s what these discourses usually always are about anyways. Basically treat human beings as human beings. Remember that “nerd girls” are still girls, and more importantly, people.
Oh, and thanks about the Dorothy Parker thing! It’s going to be super rad!
I feel like I could have probably put more thought into publishing this, I needed to get this out of my system so I can think about things other than Benedict Cumberbatch’s performance in Sherlock again.
I’m getting dinner with Marcelle after that and she’s taking me to a Nada Surf concert. It’s like being a cool kid in the 1990’s or something, and the 1990’s were the only time anyone should ever have a desire to be cool in (besides the 1810’s and 1920’s).
I get to hang with Gaby on Ustream for real tomorrow.
I’m working on a hilarious (and embarrassing) piece for HuffPo (MY NERVES!).
I’m “super confirmed” for my PIT House Team Audition.
I’ve eaten a lot of dark chocolate this afternoon.
I am seeing Second City in the second city in a week and a half.
Reading this interview with Hello Giggles founder (so, my technical boss) Sophia Rossi was sooo surreal for me. The interview has all these gorgeous photos of Sophia working in her beautiful, brightly lit Beverly Hills home and it’s such a juxtaposition from where I’m sitting right now: the darkly lit cubicle at my midtown financial firm day job where, yes, I do most of my Hello Giggles writing.
The closest I’ve ever been to living in Beverly Hills was when my childhood telephone number was 9-9-92010. True fact.
I was in the bar during the 10:30 show at the UCBeast on Friday. I did pop my head in prior to the show to say hi to someone I knew from Boston University who did not remember me even though I distinctly remember him. So that was fun.
…because I dealt with multiple people who have viscerally hurt me with grace and kindness.
I cannot begin to tell you how many bitter blog posts I’ve deleted in the past few hours. Only, young creative types, know this: you can waste almost a decade of your life seeking the approval of a creative institution before realizing that they’ll never champion you. They’ll put you down unless there’s some college related event they need organizing or some specific project they need your talents for. They won’t say you’re talented. They’ll just guilt you into helping without help or reward. This is all fine. It’s part of growing up and realizing your own worth.
Even if you don’t see it now, you’ll grow into it. I support growth and experimentation—that includes in myself.
Good luck everyone. Don’t let any setback keep you from your goal.
What happened last night: So yeah, Gaby and I were supposed to do a Ustream thing, but Ustream was down. We will do one in the near future LIVE from my apartment in Queens. There will be wine and I will try to get Lucius on the camera. However, Lucius hates Ustream.
What’s happening tonight: 7pm the world premiere of MEGBitang—a two-prov group consisting of me and Phil Magbitang at the PIT. Whoa! Be there!
What’s happening tomorrow: 9pm The Hello Giggles show at the UCBeast! Whoa! Be there!
If you like comedy and if you like the idea of giving young comics, improvisers, actors, musicians and artists a home where they can perform regularly and without the pressure to compromise their artistic growth for profit, then contribute to the Creek’s Kickstarter.
Help transform what’s already an amazing home for alternative comedy into a legit and lasting comedy club.
I’ve gotten like three emails in the last 18 hours congratulating me on the changes happening in my uterus that aren’t even happening in my uterus. Stop sending me emails about babies kicking me from inside my uterus. There are no babies inside my uterus. Stop. Just stop. NO MOAR EMAILS ABOUT MY UTERUS.