Friday, May 22, 2009
Okay. So, I've always disliked Gwyneth Paltrow. There is something about her aristocratic air, extremely long neck, and pink-ballroom-gown-at-the-Oscars I never could get around. She seems to use an accent not unlike the screen sirens of the forties and fifties, a mix between over-enunciation and a British tweak. This bugs me. And she also takes her self and fashion sense way to seriously...She once called herself an icon. Rule #1 for becoming/being/staying an icon: You NEVER refer to yourself as an icon...let the little people you dazzle with your accessory choices do it for you!!
When her weekly emails started up in the form of GOOP, her name choice not mine, I, of course, signed right up. Her emails started around the recession-infused holidays and she was sending out "proper gift ideas" that included leather gloves from Hermes for a cool $1500 and a wine subscription at only $100 a month. Her outfit suggestions to make ANY ol' dame fabulous are from Tod's, Alaia, Stella McCarney, and Prada. I know having Coldplay constantly in your life can cause the equivalent of a frontal lobotomy, but she MUST have a few interns that type and proof her crap?!?
But maybe, maybe they are just like me and want to chip away at the ivory tower of righteousness Gwyneth has been perched on since the mid-nineties. Their chisel - her asinine disconnection from the proletariat, their hammer - her mass emails with the dumbest pastel butterfly logo in history.
I support your valiant efforts.