So MTV is seriously promoting its new series The City, which follows Whitney Port of Hills' fame. Now as thrilled as I am to have a new MTV "reality" series to whine about, am I the only one who thinks Whitney P. should be thinking twice about this venture?
For one thing, Whitney seems too smart to subject herself to such nonsense. Now don't get me wrong. It's not like I expect her to start rattling on about the theory of relativity or whatever, but she always seemed like the most stable, sane one on The Hills. I mean, honestly, did you ever realize how whenever Lauren told her something, our little Whit would just nod and open her eyes up really big and go, "Wow, really?"
It's like she knew that she didn't want to appear too controversial or piss off Lauren, the star. She was a cipher, really, and kind of a cute one at that.
She was also wise to keep her private life private. We only caught glimpses of Whitney's apartment, and her dating life was kept away from the cameras during those first few seasons. She was also smart enough to go to France while our gal Lauren was stupid enough to spend the summer with that jackass Jason, making a big ol' sex tape (or not).
Now Miss Port is on The City, and I am worried. Will she spiral into annoying irrelevance like our dynamic duo, the two-headed monster that is Speidi? Or will she go on to...well...I don't know the opposite. I can't think of any true positives of being on a show like The City other than it probably helped her land that sweet gig at Diane von Furstenberg (free publicity much?).
For her sudden switch in thinking, for her apparent welcoming of the stalkerazzi cameras that will now follow her every move, for being the cause of yet even more mentions of Speidi on E! and other channels...for all of this and more, Whitney from The Hills makes us ask...WTF?
Ugh, this woman makes me wanna puke. Little Miss Kate Gosselin of TLC's Jon & Kate Plus 8 has to win high marks for being the most castrating wife and the most controlling mother I've ever seen, yet for some bizarre reason she continues to attract fans (including my own mom and sister, who seem to find it fun to watch a bajillion kids running around spilling their sippy cups as their anal retentive mother whines and their eunuch father becomes more and more irrelevant as the seconds tick by).
ANYway, the show was birthed because even though they already had two healthy baby girls, Kate and her husband decided to add to our already overpopulated planet by popping out six more babies. (Let me be clear: the kids are cute and in no way at fault here. I just hope someone's saving now for their therapy bills.)
I find Kate to be freakishly in command of her family to the point that it's almost embarrassing to watch husband Jon or anyone else try to get a word in edgewise. She corrects Jon's sentences, rolls her eyes at him as if he were a little kid, and is constantly freaking out over the stains, spills, and fights that come with having children, let alone eight. Seriously woman, if you didn't want ice cream on the couch, maybe you shouldn't have had kids.
There's a slew of Kate Hate online as well, with people calling her everything from ungrateful to a product placement queen. In addition, her own family members are busy writing their own blogs about how much they can't stand her.
For her whiny, control freak ways, for her inability to treat her adult husband as a partner and not a child, and for her apparent joy of the spotlight at the expense of her eight children, for all these reasons and more, Kate Gosselin definitely makes us ask...WTF?
She has a name, right? I mean, I think she does, but I'm not sure what it is, and I'm certainly not going to waste your time and mine to go look it up.
She's married to Bruce Jenner, who's had more work done than most major freeways, but I don't quite get their relationship. In Bruce's defense, he seems like the sane one.
Why am I on this topic? Well, whilst procrastinating last weekend, I found myself sucked into a Keeping Up With the Kardashians marathon (which is a good word for it as watching that crap for hours at a time certainly does build one's endurance...for crap). Anyway, what is up with this crazy-ass lady? Tattooing her muffin top, getting loaded in front of her kids, encouraging her daughter to strip for Playboy, and selling a sexy calendar starring her daughter are simply beyond me. Yet I cannot look away.
I mean, making fun of this woman is almost too easy. It's like shooting fish in a barrel. Like taking candy from a baby. She's insane. She's a pimp. She's freaky deaky in the worst way possible.
And she makes more money than all of us combined.
Sigh.
For her rush to exploit her own flesh and blood, for her strange obsession with the letter K (Kendall and Kylie and Khloe and Kumquat or whatever), for her inability to notice Father Time has paid several visits to her doorstep, for all of this and more, the mother of Kim Kardashian definitely makes us ask...WTF?
Hey, did you know the economy is, like, waaaay bad? Not sure if you'd heard the stories on the radio or whatever, but the bottom line is that it's basically Depression Part Two: Electric Boogaloo.
Anyway, the lady who will either shepherd us through this crisis or drive us to completely lose our collective minds is one Miz Suze Orman, who I can't decide if I love or hate. Either she's trying to get us to breathe into a paper bag and soothingly calling us my dears and my darlings, or she's screaming at us to pay off our credit card debt or suffer the whip. Dang, woman, what do you want from me?!
When I flip on Today and catch a snippet of her shaking her head and crying over the fact that we are still a nation of drunk spenders, I start to break out in hives -- and I don't even have any serious debt other than a car note and a mortgage (oh God, and now she's saying I should be paying those off early, too? What the Hell?)
But just as I think I should start putting all my money inside the sugar bowl or under the mattress, she's pushing me to throw more money into my 401(k) because I've got to have faith in the markets.
Huh?
Granted, she's way calmer than psycho Jim Cramer, but maybe we'd be better off watching Kristen Wiig's spot-on impression on Saturday Night Live.
For her schizoid mix of tender advice and shake-a-finger discipline, for her perfectly still blonde wedge that never seems to move, for her ability to strike fear in my financial soul with one nod of the head and a cluck of the tongue, for all this and more, Suze Orman makes us ask...WTF?
In an effort to escape my ever-growing To Do List, I often find myself tooling around La Internet in an effort to put off grad school homework or laundry or whatever. Of course that means I spend way too much time deciding which kitten is cuter, but it also means I stumble across some pretty kooky thinking from time to time.
Gals, check out Ladies Against Feminism, which must be read to be believed. Now before I get tomatoed, yes, yes, feminism does mean women have choices, and there's nothing wrong with choosing to be a stay-at-home mom or choosing to enjoy crafting or housekeeping. BUST magazine and other feminist-friendly creations have certainly done their best to reclaim the "womanly" arts without suggesting women give up their sense of self.
But at Ladies against Feminism, we are inundated with articles and images that shove one view of "womanhood" down our throats. What's that view? Well for one thing it involves women referring to themselves as Mrs. Sherman or Mrs. Chancey instead of by first names. They post pictures of themselves doing housework in "feminine dress" and deliver such thoughtful missives to single women as: "Singleness...just the word can bring shudders and dread to a person's heart - especially if she is unmarried."
It's way groovy with me if women get a sense of pride from keeping a nice home and providing their husbands with warm meals. And while I applaud LAF for speaking out against the sexualization of young girls in media, their insistence that we whittle down a woman's identity to only that of a "keeper at home" is freakishly reactionary and really frustrating.
For their myopic world view, for their obsessive interest in cleaning and cooking, for their inability to identify each other by their first names...for all this and more, Ladies Against Feminism make us ask...WTF?
Okay, so I promise you that this isn't going to be some mean-spirited post about how much I can't stand Elisabeth Hasselbeck and her high-pitched Republican rantings. That topic has been covered enough as it is, and I don't think I can add anything new to the conversation.
But was I the only one befuddled, shocked, and secretly pleased when she came out on November 5th and regaled us with the story of how she told her toddler Grace "we all won" this election?
I think I played the following YouTube clip a total of six times because I could not believe what was coming out of this gal's mouth. Here is a woman who stumped for Sarah "Ban Books" Palin and suggested to The View's audience that Obama supporters were just a bunch of brainwashed idiots drinking the Kool-Aid.
And yet there she sat, prim and proper as usual, announcing that "today is a victory for this country" and suggesting that she hadn't "felt this good throughout this entire election process." (Not even when she was stumping for Palin? Wow, what a low blow for Ms. Shoots Wolves From Helicopters.)
At any rate, I admit the cynic in me believes Elisabeth is saying this only to solidify her position on The View and brush away any rumors that she's unhappy or wants out. (After all, she's really got a sweet deal, doesn't she?) But the optimist in me believes that Elisabeth announced she is getting "in a long line of supporters...[to] support this president" because she believes in her heart it's the right thing to do for this country.
For her suddenly schizoid political view, for her ability to confuse us and shock us in one single Hot Topics, for all of this and more, Elisabeth Hasselbeck is a woman who makes us ask...WTF?
Ugh, I goooottta get off the couch. It's bad enough that last week I WTF? another E! lady (Kimora Lee Simmons), I'm back this week to wonder out loud about another mistress of the E! network, Hayley Rey, the wife of freaky deaky Beverly Hills plastic surgeon (and star of Dr. 90210) Robert Rey.
Has anyone else seen the most recent episodes that show Hayley begging and pleading with Robert to purchase her an even bigger, more ostentatious house in Calabasas, despite the fact that there are four people in their family and they already live in a mansion? So depressing and sad to watch this woman who apparently has no real sense of her own self (remember that episode where she went back to Canada to rediscover her roots?...painful) cry and whine like a little girl to get what she wants.
Not only is it difficult to listen to her, it's difficult to watch her seeing as she weighs about the same amount as my right arm. She's painfully, rib-showing thin. (Although you wouldn't think she thinks that from the clip below.) Not to get all Freudian, but do you think her body issues could be the way she sublimates her anger toward her Brazilian-born husband, who seems more focused on his hair, his martial arts, and his QVC line than his own family? (Although granted, Hayley must have known what she was getting into when she married him.)
Girl, get it together and get on with your life! For her little girl whining, for her sad, empty eyes, for her inability to stand up for herself and shape her own life like her husband shapes bust lines, for all of this and more, Hayley Rey makes us ask...WTF?
In this time of economic uncertainty, increased unemployment, overpriced groceries, and 401(k) plans that are worth less than the paper they're printed on, do we really, truly need the excess that is Kimora Lee Simmons?
Lately it seems I can't turn on the television without running into an episode of Kimora: Life in the Fab Lane, which documents the former model and wife of Russell Simmons as she promotes her line, Baby Phat, and spends ungodly amounts of money on her two daughters (dropping a ton on entertainment for birthday parties, treating them to a day at a spa especially for children, etc.).
Gag.
It also follows her as she degrades the help, whines constantly, and reminds her fans (whoever they are) of how important it is to be fabulous.
Is it just me, or does it all seem like the act of an affected, insecure girl who has admitted to being made fun of in her youth? Don’t get me wrong. I think she's beautiful, but I really, really see no point in E! running a show that promotes excess at a time when most celebrities are busying themselves trying to free Burma or at least stump for Obama.
Kimora seems so…2000. So boom times, bull market, peace and prosperity. For her egocentric lifestyle, for her crazy compulsion to spend and acquire, for her calculated attempt to appear as over the top as possible during a moment when most of us just want to be able to pay the mortgage…for all of this and more, Kimora Lee Simmons makes us ask WTF?
As a crazy-ass fan of the television show Mad Men, I am in love with all of the characters on this AMC drama set in early 1960s New York. Note for note, the set design, the writing, and the wardrobe all transport us back in time to a world both stylish and repressive.
My favorite character has to be Betty Draper, the bored, neglected housewife of star executive (and philanderer) Don Draper. Played by the drop dead gorgeous January Jones, Betty Draper is in serious need of Betty Friedan, like, pronto. She is trapped in the suburbs, her identity reduced to that of wife and mother. Since the first episode, we’ve been used to her despondent glances at Don over the chicken and her apathetic chit-chat with the other ladies who lunch.
Lately, however, Betty has taken a turn toward the cuckoo. Her upper middle class problem-that-has-no-name has recently caused her to stumble around the house for three days wearing a party dress, guzzle gallons of wine, and set up her best friend with a man she is either too shy or too nervous to have an affair with herself. Plus, she shot at her neighbor's birds for no obvious reason and seems to be developing a weird connection with the pre-teen kid down the street. Huh?
Watching her is like watching a tightrope artist. She is one step away from completely losing it. Seriously, am I the only one who thinks that were it not for the maid, Betty and the kids would all be overdosing on Valium?
For her freaky-deaky meltdowns, for her unexplainable actions, for her suburban anomie that has run rampant, Betty Draper is definitely a woman who makes us ask WTF?
You know, I'm a feminist. And I don't mean one of those, "I’m a feminist, but…" or "I support women's rights, but I wouldn't call myself a feminist" blather. No, thanks. No, I'm a feminist. A good, old-fashioned feminist who thinks the "F-word" means – to paraphrase first waver Rebecca West – that I think women shouldn't be treated like doormats.
I like Hillary Clinton. I think she's done an admirable job in the Senate, I think she's smart, and I think she probably would have been a good president. That said, I chose to support Barack Obama because I think he's less divisive and more electable than Hillary (who, whether it's fair or not, brings all the baggage of the first Clinton administration with her).
That said, if Hillary Clinton had been nominated, I would have voted for her. Gladly.
Ladies, there is a problem brewing. Women who supported Hillary Clinton are now refusing to support Obama and, in the case of Debra Bartoshevich, they are threatening to vote for McCain. Check out the clip below to see a Hillary supporter lose her mind at the Democratic convention demanding that Hillary be made the nominee.
Barack and Hillary's platforms were nearly identical, with some small nuances. McCain, on the other hand, will do his best to fight against or stall universal health care, reproductive rights, a green economy, and withdrawal from Iraq.
I rarely use this phrase because it is so played out and so overused, but honestly, ladies, I must ask:
Are You On Crack?
Are you? Did you not listen to Hillary's pleas for unity at the convention? Do you not see how destructive McCain's policies will be for women? Do you not understand this? What is going on in your minds? What?
For the lunacy in their logic, for their refusal to do what is best for all women, for their inability to see beyond their petty fight, Hillary supporters who are refusing to support Obama seriously make us ask WTF?
Yo, peep this. Back in the day, Strawberry Shortcake was sweet as pie, literally, with her ragamuffin boho-chic look and her kitty cat Custard and her best pal Apple Dumplin'. (I never could decide if she and Huckleberry Pie were supposed to be more than just friends.) Above all, she was a girl. A nice, wholesome girl who could be trusted not to change.
Not anymore.
According to her parent company, American Greetings Properties, in 2009 Shortcake is all set to show off a new look complete with a gangsta cap and pink capris. Pink capris? On Strawberry Freaking Shortcake?
As if that weren't enough, it appears staying one step ahead of the Purple Pie Man just isn't cutting it anymore for Miss Thang. In a press release, American Greetings announced:
"This sweet smelling, spunky red-head gets a more contemporary look…In the whimsical, fantastical land of Berry Bitty City, Strawberry and her friends run their own shops including a cafe, a salon, a general store and more."
Huh?
This isn't the first time Strawberry’s tried to update her look. Back in the early 2000s, she ditched the floppy cap and trotted out a striped tee and a sweater tied around her waist. Fine. But capris? A coffee bar? What's next, black fingernail polish and a pack a day habit?
For all her too cool for school-ness, her "I’m so over it" new 'tude, her cafe and salon la di da…for all this and more, the new Ms. Shortcake makes us ask…WTF?
It should be said that this category is not meant to get all mean and pick on women who we think deserve our scorn (although sometimes, it is used that way). In all honesty, sometimes women who make us ask WTF? are women who truly make us drop our jaws in a mix of confusion, wonder, and even respect.
And so we come to Stella Barbarella Zotis of Project Runway fame.
This ballsy, 42-year-old broad (and we mean that in the best way possible) hails from Queens, and in case you didn't know, she's into leather. Or, as she puts it, leath-uh. Once a make-up artist, she was asked by Debbie Harry to create an outfit, and the rest is history.
In her hilarious audition video for the show, she scares us half to pieces as she brags, "I design for rock royalty, or for whoever is tough enough to wear it." (Take that, Heidi Klum.) In the same clip, she gets truly bloodthirsty as she chants, "I hammer, I bang, I snap, I grommet, I paint, I distress." (I have no clue what grommeting is, but if Stella’s involved, steer clear.)
For her slut-tastic rocker wear, for her balls-to-the-wall attitude, for her tight Queens accent, Stella Zotis is a woman who makes us ask…WTF?
OK, so I realize that the divorce has been granted to the husband of Little Miss Phoenix Rising From The Ashes (a.k.a. British playwright and loon Tricia Walsh-Smith). Still, I cannot get enough of this chick. Better known as "The YouTube Divorce Lady," Tricia has captivated a world with her insane online rants regarding her split from super rich theater producer Philip Smith, who's more than 20 years her senior. (Think maybe she got with him for his money? Naaah.)
You know the skinny. Her YouTube flicks show her calling an assistant via speaker phone to talk about her husband's Viagra, sobbing and crying in her Park Avenue kitchen, and essentially making Glenn Close in Fatal Attraction look like the portrait of mental health. On the one hand, I'm disgusted by how completely self-absorbed she is, calling her situation a "tragedy" and whining and crying about not having enough money to stay in New York City.
"In New York, if you don't have money, you're screwed," she enlightens us. (Really? Tell that to the eight struggling actors sharing a fifth-floor walk-up in Queens. Cuz I don't think they know.)
At the same time, I have to admit that I kind of love the fact that she is so in tune with her insanity that she bluntly admits that she married her ex-husband because her father died when she was 12 years old.
"I have a father complex, OK? You don't have to be Freud to figure it out."
Because of the strange mix of fascination and disgust she creates everywhere she goes, Crazy Tricia Walsh-Smith definitely makes us ask…WTF?
My question for Ann Coulter is this: How much longer do you think you’ll be able to pull off the long-hair and the sleeveless shirts and the short skirts thing? Because that’s pretty much all you’ve got, isn’t it? And you’re already in your late forties. I mean, really, sweetheart, do you actually think your hate-filled invective would have gotten as much attention had you dressed in frumpy sweater sets and cut your hair off super short?
Because she used homophobic slurs when discussing John Edwards, because in an October 2007 interview with the New York Observer she fantasized about how nice it would be if women lost the right to vote (“If we took away women’s right to vote, we’d never have to worry about another Democrat president. It’s kind of a pipe dream, it’s a personal fantasy of mine…”), because she claimed a group of 9/11 widows were a bunch of “harpies” who were “enjoying” their husbands’ deaths.
Because of all of this and more, Ann Coulter makes us ask…WTF?
OK, so I'm not going to completely hate on E!'s The Girls Next Door. Dim-witted Kendra is lucky she scored such a great gig as I have a feeling had Hef not discovered her, she'd be battling a meth addiction and dancing at Harry's House of Hoo-Ha off the state highway somewhere. And Holly has clearly managed to dig her nails into the Playboy enterprise deep enough that even if she can't pop out Hef's baby, she'll be set for another three or 10 plastic surgery operations after Hef goes six feet under.
But Bridge…babe. You’re 34 and live in the equivalent of a college dorm room with a curfew and a very old man who pursues you while dressed in a bathrobe. And you have a master's degree. And you seem somewhat intelligent. Sure, you're super girlie with a little dog that you dress according to the holiday season, which normally would make one suspicious, but you seem to have a real heart of gold and a decent brain.
For all of this and more, Bridget Marquardt makes us ask…WTF?
Yo, peep this. Back in the day, Strawberry Shortcake was sweet as pie, literally, with her ragamuffin boho-chic look and her kitty cat Custard and her best pal Apple Dumplin'. (I never could decide if she and Huckleberry Pie were supposed to be more than just friends.) Above all, she was a girl. A nice, wholesome girl who could be trusted not to change.
