This summer I took a day off from work. Measles? Mumps? Hangover? Worse. Jude cheated on Sienna. As I sat on my couch, glassy eyed, nursing a pint of Rocky Road, “Extra” broadcast the first snapshots of starlet Sienna Miller appearing for rehearsal at London’s West End – sans engagement ring. It hit me: Sienna went to work and I didn’t. I cared more about her fiance’s infidelities than she did.
The first step to treating an addiction is admitting you have one. Hello, my name is Amanda, and I am hooked on salacious celeb gossip.
The popularity of “The Fabulous Life Of” and Us Weekly makes it clear that Americans have as unhealthy a relationship with celeb prattle as Jessica Simpson has with her father. But why do images of Brangelina and mohawked Maddox pervade our sleep? (Note: It’s not the Ambien).
Bonnie Fuller, magazine editrix, believes our celeb obsession fills a void created upon high school graduation. Without the prom queen and king to talk about, we turn our attention to the rich and famous. Fuller may be right, but Northwestern has its own version of celebrity culture.
Snail mail invitations are about as over as Spederline. Viva la Evite. Yes, Evites are time and cost efficient. But like Trashley Simpson’s bout with “acid-reflux” on Saturday Night Live, let’s cut the crap. Evites are truly wonderful because they feature a guest list. In Hollywood, the quality of an event is contingent upon the star power of those who grace its red carpet. An Evitee can size up a party by seeing what A-listers have RSVPed “yes.”
But what constitutes an “A-lister” anyway? “Laguna Beach” star Kristin Cavallari is your typical tanorexic ditz. Yet armed with an intrepid public relations machine, Cavallari has mounted the cover of more glossies than Paris Hilton has mounted people named Paris. Star Magazine cover appearances do for celebs what Facebook does for NU students: You know you’ve made it when you have a Facebook group dedicated to yourself.
Hollywood glitterati maintain baller status by frequenting hangouts like L.A.’s “quaint bistro,” the Ivy. Such establishments offer a guaranteed photo-op. Similarly, Core during finals week offers the inevitable chance to be seen. Extra points for those undergrad divas hospitalized for exhaustion at Searle Student Health Services.
“All press is good press” is Paris Hilton’s mantra. Alas, some NU undergrads worship the gospel according to Hilton. Behavior at The Keg: Forget line-cutting and bar-top dancing. There has been a recent trend of ladies mistaking support beams for stripper poles.
Honest error, I realize. Both are long and sturdy. However, one is thin and intended for exotic dancing, and one is thick and holds up the ceiling. The latter forces performers to straddle the pole like a Cirque de Soleil performer. Now that’s hot.
