Celebrity. Andrea McDonnell
are condemned, for narcissism is a big sin; Life & Style regularly asks readers if stars are behaving like a “Diva or Down-to-Earth,” pitting celebs who pick up their own takeout against glamazons who won’t lift a finger to open a car door.
But celebrity narratives insist that the most important goal for famous women, no matter how wealthy, independent, or successful in their careers, is to find a loving, heterosexual relationship (ideally, with a “soul mate”) in order to be truly happy. Women must be in a romantic relationship, and these are always “blissful” and “perfect” until the nasty breakup.
Here’s where the men come in. The ideal catch is financially successful, caring, faithful, attractive, fun-loving, and supportive: an independent yet domesticated man. Cheating, drinking too much, or drug abuse are signs that the man is unable to restrain his appetites or control his emotions and behaviors. Depending on women for money is also a sign of weakness and failure. It was bad enough that former basketball star, and husband of Khloe Kardashian, Lamar Odom, nearly overdosed in a brothel. But that he “squandered large sums [of money] on booze, drugs and hookers” meant he would be “still going after Khloe’s money.”92 The worst crime, however, is domestic abuse. In this world men must protect their women.
A typically laudatory story noted that Romain Dauriac, husband of Scarlett Johansson, who was “exhausting herself” on the set of her latest movie, “[came] to the rescue” by renting a nearby house “so he could help care for her and their daughter [Rose, twenty-one months].”93 In a fake “world exclusive” cover story, Life & Style announced “A Baby for George!” (Clooney), implying that his wife Amal was pregnant. Inside, however, we learn they are supposedly planning to have a child in the next year or so because “Amal is ready to be a mom, and George is doing everything to make her dream come true.” But he was also “born to be a dad,” is “truly great” with children, and “he’ll make an incredible father.” In a sidebar (and in contrast to the ageism directed at women), we meet “famous dads” who “welcomed newborns at age 55—and older!”94 In Life & Style’s “Boyfriend Report Card,” swimmer Michael Phelps comes in for a world of hurt, earning a C–, because he’s been “slacking a bit on daddy duty” by not changing enough diapers.95 Kourtney Kardashian’s on-again, off-again boyfriend and party animal Scott Disick (and father of her three children) is regularly chastised for “dating a new girl every week,” for drinking too much and falling off the wagon, and for needing to get a job.96 The “runt of the Kardashian litter [and] f*ckup father of Kourtney’s three children,” a man “without any skills,” sniped GQ online, makes his money for doing nothing: appearing at clubs and agreeing to stay for one hour. For this and his other failings, he is “routinely mocked on national television.”97
While men’s appearance does not come under near the scrutiny that women’s do, these magazines have also started trashing men’s bodies, jeering at those with “man boobs” or who are “man blobs” or “beached males.” Rob Kardashian reportedly wanted his “moobs” (man boobs) reduced after losing fifty pounds so he doesn’t “have to run from the cameras” during his new reality TV show.98 Jack Nicholson has “flabby pecs,” Simon Cowell has “perky moobs,” and even former body builder Arnold Schwarzenegger was ridiculed by TV Guide for now having “boobs” and that his days of having a “rock hard body” are “long gone.”99
The culmination of the romantic relationship is inevitably the birth of a baby. So quickly do the stories jump from love to babies that coverage of celebrity weddings often promise pregnancy before the rings have even been exchanged. Thus, losing your man is a big tragedy, but remaining childless is even bigger. Two-inch headlines like “BABY NEWS” and “HOLLYWOOD’S BABY BOOM” are constantly recycled. Motherhood has now become nearly compulsory for female stars: they must have a baby to fulfill what is allegedly every woman’s innate dream to become a mother. Babies are cast as bundles of joy and life-changing blessings, never stressful. Julia Roberts was constantly hounded about having kids until her twins arrived. George Clooney, by contrast, was not badgered about when he would reproduce (although his wife Amal was).100 Women who opt out of motherhood are portrayed as tragic. Poor Jennifer Aniston has been prodded for over a decade because she did not have any children and supposedly was pining for them. Time and time again, the stories that heralded her alleged pregnancies turned out to be false.
This hypernatalism of celebrity journalism has led to a feature we never used to see, the rise of the invasive “bump patrol.” Ever since a nude and fully pregnant Demi Moore graced the cover of Vanity Fair in 1991, display of one’s belly has become less embarrassing and even glamorous. So telephoto lenses now zoom in on the midsections of scores of female celebrities accompanied by speculation about whether she’s pregnant or simply ate too much for lunch. The Star has featured its “Bump Brigade” and “How to Dress a Bump (and Not!)” that showcase stylish maternity clothes that are “HOT!” The bump patrol works to further police famous women’s bodies and sexualities. Through these narratives and images, the public is offered access to the most intimate details of a woman’s personal bodily changes and choices. Gossip magazines draw giant circles around stars’ stomachs, encouraging readers to comment and judge. Doting moms are celebrated while “bad” moms—think Britney Spears driving with her baby on her lap—are failures, not only as parents, but as women.101
With standards set so impossibly high, it is perhaps unsurprising that, in this world, successful women can’t get along with each other. Instead, they “clash,” “butt heads,” and “fight,” particularly over scarce resources: attention and decent men. The real or alleged feuds between celebrity women ask you to take sides, and usually the woman who lost her man to someone else is cast as more sympathetic than the one who stole him away. These are high school sensibilities at their finest. This was true in 1959 when Elizabeth Taylor “stole” Eddie Fisher from America’s sweetheart, Debbie Reynolds, and was clearly cast as the evil one, a story revived in the never-ending Jen-Brangelina saga, in which all-American Aniston was typically the victim, Jolie the vixen. Male relationships, when they are featured, are not cast in this catty light—they betray women, not each other. For women, sisterhood is not powerful; it is impossible.
When not fighting over men, women are battling over every detail of their appearance. Indeed, what is especially striking is the constant pitting of gorgeous women against each other. Gossip magazines and talk shows routinely provide visual lineups based primarily on red carpet photos, of women wearing the same or similar outfits and then judging who looked the best, typically based on the minutest details. In Touch and OK! feature “Who Wore It Better?,” US Weekly has “Who Wore It Best?,” and Life & Style “Who Wears It Best?” in which two celebs are juxtaposed against each other in the same dress or outfit. One gets a circle with a checkmark titled “she did,” the other a circle with an X, crossing out her efforts. The loser has worn shoes that are “too heavy (and just don’t match)” or her bust is “bursting out of the dress.”102
In “Red Carpet Ready?,” celebrities are actually made to compete against themselves. The same woman is seen in two different outfits at different events and in one she is labeled “ready” and the other “not ready.” Celebrity commentator Perez Hilton compares women’s current and previous hairdos; either the woman’s current self loses to her past self, or vice versa.103 The Enquirer has its weekly “fashion hits & misses” in which some women are exhorted to “Trash Your Stylist,” because the fashion blunders are deemed so egregious. Life & Style asks “Who’s Got the Best …” and focuses on women’s lipstick choices and hairstyles. Here we have women who on the one hand seem strong and independent, yet on the other hand are constantly shown to be inadequate in some way or another.104
Thus, celebrity narratives teach powerful lessons about the featured stars, who are primarily young, white, and heterosexual, and what constitutes success for such women. And given both the target market for such magazines, TV shows, and websites, and the notorious ageism of Hollywood, especially when it comes to women, older women are rarely seen in these precincts. There are three major exceptions: the star who has gained too much weight or is a victim of bad plastic surgery; the “tragic” allegedly sick or dying star, almost always cast as forgotten, possibly broke, and alone; and, even more rarely, the “hot”