Lady Gaga got a new gig writing a monthly column for Japan’s V Magazine, and boy is it rich. One can almost picture her perched atop a tiny stool with her pinky out, sipping a cuppa, sneering behind her Teashades at any pleb who dares to make eye contact with her. For someone who rallies for cultural acceptance and understanding, she sure comes off as a judgemental and condescending snob.
“Glam culture is ultimately rooted in obsession, and those of us who are truly devoted and loyal to lifestyle of glamour are masters of its history. Or, to put it more elegantly, we are librarians. I myself can look at almost any hemline, silhouette, bead work, or heel architecture and tell you very precisely who designed it first, what French painter they stole it from, how many designers reinvented it after them, and what cultural and musical movement parented the birth, death, and resurrection of that particular trend. So dear critics and bullies: get your library cards out, because I’m about to do a reading.”
And this nugget of wisdom:
“Any writer, or anyone for that matter, who doesn’t understand the last two sentences of this column should NEVER be writing about or critiquing fashion or artists in publication. As someone who references and annotates her work vigilantly, I am putting all of you on notice. I’ve done my homework, have you? Where are your library cards? Did they expire?”.
No, bitch, YOU’VE expired! The most annoying part is that Gaga is a fantastic entertainer and artist. Nobody can deny her that. So why does she constantly feel the need to fellate herself? We get it. You’re an original. We love you, but STFU already!
Case in point:
“I would dream of being a rock star who dressed like Mark Bolan, walked like Jerry Hall, and had the panache of Ginger from Casino and the mystery of Isabella Blow. See Footnote.”
It’s MARC Bolan, Gags. MARC. Better get out your library card, this bitch got schooled.