VampireNomad

The ‘Porn Stars Without Makeup’ article on the Huffington Post was, I hoped, going to be a sort of small female empowerment piece where someone dares to say that women are beautiful without makeup and clothed and that no matter what we do for work, we’re all human underneath the costume. That Disney-level optimism was very quickly dashed to shards by the unforgiving reality of an article that is a puff piece on the makeup artist behind a gallery of pictured porn star looks.  “The extra exposure led to more job offers for Murphy, 35. She noted that many women outside of the industry want her to do their makeup for weddings and other events.”  I’m pleased that Melissa Murphy’s makeup career is thriving and that more people are viewing makeup as an art form in its own right.  I believe that it is, or can be.  This isn’t to take anything away from Murphy’s success but there is a glaring oversight here.  An elephant-in-the-room sized level of ignoring what could have been a wonderful angle.  Looking through the photo set of all eighty-two women I was struck by two things simultaneously.  1) Almost universally every woman looked more beautiful – and in many cases downright adorable – without a stitch of makeup on her face, and 2) Without the ‘war paint’ (which porn makeup, as thick and overly dramatic as it is, qualifies to be called) each woman looked strikingly like somebody I might know or, more the point, any woman at all.  And they are.  These are mothers, daughters, sisters, girlfriends, wives, aunts, and best friends.  These are women you could easily giggle with over coffee or go to a concert with or host a killer Halloween party alongside.  These are women you might turn to in tears after a bad breakup or whom you might console with Kleenex and Haagen-Dazs after one of theirs.  They are everyday people who just happen to work in the porn industry.  More than anything else, stripping the women of their masks reveals how utterly gorgeously real they are underneath.  For many people humanizing an industry that excels at impersonal and impossible fantasy adds an element of appeal and responsibility.  These are real women so they shouldn’t be regarded as objects because they aren’t.  They perform for our collective enjoyment but at the end of the job they go home to partners and pets and bills and hobbies and dreams and sorrows just like every single one of us.  Something as significant as this photo set could be used to further the conversation on how we are all linked through our shared humanity and how women, no matter their industry, are being marginalized and objectified and how that needs to be addressed.  But instead it is a puff piece enforcing the value of makeup, of pigeonholing femininity and female interest, of maintaining the status quo of what society expects women to look like.  And the comments allowed to fester on HuffPo reflect this.  They reflect how the conversation that wasn’t had – the one about the value of a woman in her own right and without any applied assumption and role to play – is the one so desperately needed.  These women allowed themselves to be photographed stripped all the way bare, more exposed than they are on film in many regards, and this is how that courage is repaid.  Well I want to stand up and say that the other conversation needs to happen.  The attitudes behind the comments on HuffPost display all too well how badly we women need to keep speaking up for ourselves and how much we need the voices of supportive and intelligent men behind us.  What we do isn’t who we are.  Our worth is not measured by the shade of our lipstick, the size of our bra, or how well we turn you on.  We are worth immeasurably more.

By Corinne Simpson

“There. Are. Four. Lights!”

He was a great film critic, great writer, and truly great amiable inspirational fighter.  He will be missed.

Dear Upstairs Neighbors,

I am excited to be living beneath celebrities, truly.  Fantasia hippos, Dumbo, and the wildebeest herd that trampled Mufasa - hey, I love your work!  Let’s just talk about not bringing it home with you. 

Sincerely,

The Immortal Downstairs

Fighting my way through virtual reams of information in the name of research while staring a long weekend right in the eye is the epitome of discipline.  I have refused an invitation out, the siren song of The X-Files on Netflix, several half-read books seductively flipping their pages at me, movie theatres, friend texts, sunshine and fresh air.  I have only succumbed to the temptation to ‘Loki-ize’ the cat once.  I have been the model of focus.  So it makes sense, then, that dinner would be the thing that pays the price.  Something’s got to give and I won’t apologize.

Fine, I’m sorry.  But only because later I’ll be back with a scathing condemnation of eating an entire bag of chocolate chips in lieu of actual food.

SPOILER.

Devyn won.

What?  Not that Devyn’s not worthy.  She’s a lovely girl and she can work a runway like nobody’s business.  I just sort of assumed it was either Zi Lin or Margaux’s competition to lose. 

Regardless, all three will have whatever careers they want.  Margaux, you rocked it! 

And in everything I remain Team Coco.  Because Coco Rocha is all that.  She’s the real deal and she always will be.  Believe. 

**SPOILERS BELOW**

Wherein the shit hits the fan.  Also known as ‘Red Carpet Ready’.  Same difference.

The ‘on the spot interrogation’ style of individual competition doesn’t do much except highlight what we already know about the girls.  There are no real upsets.  Zi Lin wins it by being adorably effortless.  Otherwise it doesn’t really illuminate much.

But can we talk about Naomi’s ripped sequined cargo pants and biker hat ensemble in the scenes that follow?  Actually… let’s skip it.  Just typing the sentence feels like enough of an indictment.

In the main challenge, it’s flashbulbs and screaming fans and reporters on a red carpet and… Wendy Williams.  Red alert!  Red alert!  Zi Lin handles all the questions, including the very invasive ones, with poise and a disarming charm.  But when Wendy asks what eyeshadow she’s wearing, she doesn’t know so she appears to make up a name.  Ulta Special Purple.  I kind of admire that bold-faced spontaneous fabrication.  Though as a brand ambassador she should probably memorize the products she’s shilling.  Naomi doesn’t comment.  But when Margaux pauses to consider a question before jumping into an answer, Naomi gives a very pointed look of disapproval.  And when Devyn tells Wendy she doesn’t consider herself a ‘black girl model’ but rather a more international face, Naomi expresses very vocal outrage.  Naomi, make no mistake, is in this to win this and decorum be damned.

It’s a double elimination episode so each of the losing teams goes up against each other and only one from each survives.  Team Karolina wins the challenge so Margaux and Stephanie face off and Zi Lin and Jocelyn face off.  I so disliked seeing Margaux and Stephanie turn on one another, even gently, even facing elimination.  The choice is up to Karolina and Karolina plays it honest and true.  She doesn’t get bogged down in the politics or the game itself.  She just assesses the actual models and their potential.  Truth: I am sad to see Stephanie go.  But she does so with grace and determination for the future.  That girl will be alright.  I am not sad to see Jocelyn go and we’ll leave it at that.

The survivors re-emerge.  Coco, who has been chatting amiably with Devyn and Ebony, rushes to embrace Margaux and then Karolina in turn.  Naomi, who has been strutting and posing, rushes to embrace Zi Lin and then deliver a sort of eulogy to Karolina.  Naomi.  Naomi is a contradiction wrapped in an insult packaged in diva.  Karolina made the “right choice” in bringing back Zi Lin because that choice made Naomi happy.  But Karolina made the “wrong choice” in bringing back Margaux because Margaux is too big a threat to Karolina’s girls.  Zi Lin is just as big a threat to every single girl in the room but the difference between Zi Lin and Margaux and their threat level has nothing to do with rational thought and everything to do with Naomi’s pleasure.  It pleases the Divine One to have her girl returned but it displeases her to see Margaux again.  And then Karolina is permitted to speak to the Great One because she has won challenges but Coco is cut off because she hasn’t won a single challenge.  How in holy hell does that make any difference to anything?  Winning does not validate opinions.  It’s like roulette, really.  I mean two teams have to lose every challenge, that’s just the way of things.  It’s neither here nor there on Coco either having an opinion nor the right to voice it once formed.

And then this, Naomi to Coco: “Check your lipstick before you come and talk to me.”  The sentence that launched a thousand gifs.  Really?  “Check your lipstick before you come and talk to me.”  What more can be said?  When all else fails, insult the lipstick.  Because Coco’s girl is a genuine threat.  Because Coco has a genuine point.  So attack, all cannons a-blazing, and then beat a sassy retreat.  That’s a page from the Naomi handbook.  Up until now I’ve mostly found Naomi diva-licious and quite entertaining but today she just made me want to throw a shoe. 

“Honestly, who throws a shoe?”

The break-up with The Following was a premeditated affair.  We had discussed the fact that the relationship was souring and both parties expressed intentions for the future.  The Following intended to be good, it swore, watchable and tense.  I intended to be more patient as it developed it’s narrative.  But the coming episodes tore us apart.  It insisted on being rotely provocative, relying on surprises and false twists that were predictable in their usage of planted followers to wriggle out of tight spots.  I insisted on derisively naming each one I saw coming which cheapened them more than was necessary.  It layered on the cliche and simultaneously poured on more blood even as it began to titillate through violent sexual imagery.  I declined to be titillated, instead bemoaning the obvious and dully offensive plot progression.  I decided that I really did prefer Poe to The Following.  The Following insisted it was Poe but I knew it was not, could never be.  I made my choice.  This is the end and we won’t remain friends.  I am going back to Game of Thrones and The Following, well, may it find it’s final rest at the end of a studio axe.