What do 'Blade Runner' and 'ARTPOP' Really Have in Common?
Gaga continues the insane Gucci press tour, Chloe Bailey's cringe camgirl, Swifties seeing Red again, Kim Petras talks coconuts, Wendy Osefo goes to Sri Lanka, and more rated Top Shelf to Low Brow!
Hi angels! We’re here, another week deeper into our collective holiday anticipation (refuse to believe it’s just me) and finally enjoying some actual cold weather. Unless you’re an Aussie subscriber I guess. That’s what these Tuesday Edition openers are for: small talk, weather reports, and occasional admittance of plunges into the darkest depths of the mind. We just have fewer of those this season as my body is singlehandedly sustained by the word “holiday” from October to January. Anyway, there’s a lot of great silliness to get into this week, so let me shut up.
Top Shelf, Low Brow: November 9th-15th
I guess we’re just leading with the House of Gucci press tour until November 24th…as if any of you would be mad
Our favorite deluded sometimes-singer, always-Italian-American Lady Gaga has continued her journey spearheading the most bonkers worldwide press tour for a film since Dakota Johnson and Jamie Dornan had to pretend they could stand being in the same room together while promoting Fifty Shades of Grey. Two weeks ago, Gaga told British Vogue she wanted to be a combat journalist. Last week, she revealed that she became possessed by the spirit of Patrizia Reggiani (who, again, is still alive) and thought she herself had committed murder. This week, she stomped red carpets in London and Milan for two international premieres of the film while doing an endless press cycle in between.
In 2018, we were blessed with “There can be 100 people in a room, and 99 of them don’t believe in them, and all it takes is one. And Bradley was that one.” This time around, Gaga has been careful not to repeat herself in such a verbatim nature. Instead, we’re continually getting new spins of her insistence that she believes what Patrizia Reggiani did (a little thing called paid assassination) is clearly wrong, but that she thinks it’s important to tell the story of a complicated woman. It all comes out in the most Gaga of ways.
Elsewhere, Gaga was profiled alongside Ridley Scott for The New York Times by Kyle Buchanan, where she calls Ridley “Rid” and delivers such incredible soundbites such as the following:
When you were talking about Blade Runner, I was thinking about my record ARTPOP!!!
We’re still just over a week out from when House of Gucci will officially, finally, hit theaters, but I can safely say that I wish this press tour could continue for the rest of my life. I want it to stretch on and on until we’re all unsure how long it has been, wondering why we’re about to ring in 2030 and Lady Gaga is going on The Tonight Show and doing her Italian accent for Jimmy Fallon in some asinine game that causes him to fake laugh so hard he pops a blood vessel live on air. That’s what I deserve.
Gaga also posted a photo of her posing next to a print ad for Burberry’s HERO fragrance, which, as we will all remember, sports a campaign featuring two of the biggest movie stars in Hollywood: Adam Driver’s bulbous bosoms. Before I could even see the photo for myself, I was proud to discover that my cohorts were already on it, going so far as to go back to the text. As an openly-horny/pro-tiddy newsletter from its inception, I’m happy to report that Top Shelf, Low Brow and its little debaucherous corner of the internet is a safe space for all who aren’t afraid to admit that Adam Driver, bazongas bouncing to FKA Twigs’ “Two Weeks,” is supremely hot—centaur half be damned!
Meanwhile, reviews have started to pour in from critics invited to the film’s premieres. They’re somewhat divided, ranging from high praise (especially toward Gaga’s performance) to others deeming it schlocky and a little too campy. But I assure you, dear reader, I am not headed to the theater the day after Thanksgiving looking for anything less than 1000. I want accents to change every five minutes. I want to question why this movie exists. And I want to be unexpectedly moved and start crying. I want to feel the full spectrum of emotions that one can feel in a theater! Ideally, I’d like to come out of the auditorium and have the exact conversation that Sonja Morgan and Dorinda Medley had when they were paid to attend an advance screening of The Hustle in 2019 to deliver a shoehorned sponcon ad in the middle of an episode of The Real Housewives of New York.
After all, MGM paid the entire House of Gucci cast to beg everyone to see it in a theater. Much like Sonja Morgan, I expect to walk out and say, “Wow! That movie was worth going to the theater for!”
(Rating: Top Shelf)
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Not to sound like a grandma, but I actually couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw this video the other day. Not because it’s overly sexy, but because it’s so beyond any standard level of cringe that I’m actually shocked that Chloe Bailey could post it with any level of earnestness without realizing she’d be absolutely dunked on.
As we have all been told many times, Chloe Bailey is in her sexy era. But unlike your Beyoncés, your Britneys, your Xtinas, we skipped right to it without much lead-up, if any at all! One moment we were riding through the pandemic listening to “Busy Boy” and now we’re suddenly being inundated with video of Chloe Bailey’s audition for Brazzers ads that pop up while you’re trying to find an episode of Mob Wives on 123movies. It’s giving daughter spiraling out of control in an ABC Family original movie. It’s giving “this game will you make you BLOW in 15 seconds!” It’s giving “Hey you! Yeah, you! Ever heard of Jerkmate? This new app is as fun and addicting as TikTok, with a spicy, sexy twist.”
I’ll give credit where it’s due: this is hypnotic. Not one second of it is sexy, but it is impossible to take your eyes off of in the worst possible way. Whatever generates press, I suppose? Chloe Bailey smacking on a lollipop and beginning her video by saying, “To my four million followers and counting…” is just like me every time I get an email about a new TSLB subscriber, except I’m shotgunning a rose berry kombucha.
(Rating: Low Brow)
And Just Like That…Sex and the City becomes a slasher
I, of course, am welcoming And Just Like That into my open arms when it premieres December 9th. We’ve been covering this beat together since before the show had even been officially announced late last year. I am, however, deeply enamored with the dark undertones of the first official teaser trailer.
This is perhaps the strangest possible musical selection for this trailer. Yes, I understand we’re in a new chapter, by this seems decidedly sinister. The style, too, feels off to me, giving me more 2010 mid-budget romantic comedy vibes than the iconic return of Carrie Bradshaw. Every move so far feels just left of center, but maybe that’s just the post-Samantha Jones world we’re living in. Perhaps the state of Samantha’s character in the new series is what will inform this more ominous tone. Maybe Samantha Jones was on Malaysia Flight 370 and the girls are still coming to grips with the fact that their friend was never found—maybe that’s what Carrie Bradshaw’s new canonical podcast is covering, the hunt for the plane. We’ll know in less than a month. And thank god for that, because even when it’s bad, it still tastes so, so sinfully good.
(Rating: Top Shelf)
The Wendy Beat
Last week, Real Housewives of Potomac star Wendy Osefo appeared on Wendy. But as our beloved north star Wendy Williams is still away on sick leave, we got no Wendy on Wendy on Wendy moments, as the show was being guest-hosted by actor/Public Enemy #4 Michael Rapaport, who has been suffering from a case of The Suds since the year 2005. While talking about Nicki Minaj, who visits the set of the Potomac reunion to ask the Housewives questions next week, Rapaport asked Osefo if she was a Nicki fan. She responded as such:
For the uninitiated, Nicki Minaj’s infamous opening lyric from her “Monster” verse is “Pull up in monster/automobile gangsta, with a bad bitch that came from Sri Lanka.” In Wendy’s world, we are pulling up in the country of Sri Lanka. I still can’t tell whether her immediate “WHAT!” is her knowing she completely flubbed the lyric or if she’s exhibiting a state of complete and utter false pride. Either way, I can’t watch this without laughing for approx. 10 minutes each time. “Pull up in the Sri Lanka WHAT!!!!!!! In the-y-y’all wh-WHAT!”
(Rating: Top Shelf)
I do remember this feeling…all too well
I think I made my feelings on the Red era quite clear in Friday’s edition (boring, half-baked), but a new, curious question is beginning to arise: are Taylor Swift and the most obnoxious corners of the Swiftie fandom making the Red (Taylor’s Version) era as insufferable as the first time around on purpose? Is that like, a callback?
I knew this cycle of the rereleases would be hard on me, but I never expected it would be quite so annoying. Most of it really isn’t even the fault of Ms. Swift herself, moreso the most rabid dregs of her fanbase who weed out every word of perfectly levelheaded criticism and harmless detraction and use it as an opportunity to send death threats and spam the mentions of anyone who utters even a word of questioning toward Taylor Swift or Red. One of the things that is so tiresome about our current age of pop star stanning is that the pushback from fanbases can be so deafeningly loud that the fans succeed in drowning out any merit of the music or artistry, their own actions becoming the story as opposed to the artist’s work. Frankly, I’ve altogether stopped caring very much at all about “All Too Well (Ten Minute Version) (Taylor’s Version),” which I was genuinely really enjoying the last few days, because Swifties are now in the comments of Jamie Lee Curtis’ Instagram telling her not to talk about Jake Gyllenhaal—who is her godson!!!!!!
Swifties Are Clapping Back at a 62-Year Old Woman For Posting Picture of her Godchildren, and We Are So Here For It! Like shoot me in the fucking face. Put me out of my misery I cannot do this anymore—and frankly, I can’t even blame the writers. The state of staffed online journalism requires so many writers to craft shitty, meaningless fluff pieces like this, guided by the all-consuming roar of the pop artist fanbase. Why, why must culture writers still be forced to write as if it is still 2012? Every person in the world can see that neither Jake Gyllenhaal nor Taylor Swift give a fuck about their three month relationship anymore, the way this is guiding the news cycle is fucking bleak!!! And I know the answer as to why this is happening is ad revenue and clicks…but I don’t want to accept that. And don’t even get me started on this:
Oh yeah, does it have you asking? Are you writing from informed context or just filling in the gaps with embedded links to tweets? Because I sure did Command-F that article to see if there was any mention of John Mayer, whose brief relationship with Swift sported a larger age gap (with Swift being even younger when they dated), with a notably more volatile breakup that was far more hostile than Swift/Gyllenhaal’s, and what a surprise: no mention of it! These are topics that are worthy of discussion, but they aren’t necessarily being written about with the intent to help anyone—these conversations require nuanced, informed discussion and not the heeding of people with verified checkmarks on Twitter deciding that things are unequivocally predatory. Maybe I’m wrong here (again, open for feedback) but I don’t think you can necessarily be the last word on the nature of a relationship when you’re a complete fucking stranger to a celebrity. That’s stripping the agency of both parties involved to arrive at a decision that influences the hivemind of perennially-online, celebrity-avatar stan Twitter, without any input or word from the actual people who were in the three-month relationship when they were 20 and 29 years old!!! Am I a lunatic or is that not fucking crazy?! The “All Too Well” short film is not a documentary, it’s a fictionalized, hyperbolized story nearly a decade removed from its lyrical context! I’m going to bang my head against the wall.
Okay one last thing because I’m realizing this section has devolved into a rant and has become far longer than I ever intended it to be: Taylor Swift casting Miles Teller to play an ex-love interest in the music video for “I Bet You Think About Me” is actually…embarrassing. You’re Taylor Swift, with the power to cast basically anyone you want, and you choose him? This is what the fanbase should be mad about!!!
(Rating: Low Brow. Again, I am solely a Red detractor. When Speak Now is rerecorded, I plan on keeping my mouth shut and enjoying every last moment of that record all over again)
Real Housewives Update
I would be remiss if I did not continually push you to catch up Real Housewives of Salt Lake City, as Sunday’s episode was one of the wildest and most engrossing episodes of reality television I have ever seen. After leaving off the episode prior with their bus being swarmed by Homeland Security and the FBI looking for one of their fellow cast members who fled the scene, the remaining Housewives are left with no choice but to embark on their trip to a luxurious home in Colorado as they discuss exactly what has just unfolded before them while they wait for the news of an imminent arrest to pour in. It’s gripping, unforgettable television. But perhaps the most terrifying part of the whole thing is when one Meredith Marks—who arrived to their destination separately—soaks herself in a tub made of sweet, delicious revenge. Marks has no remorse for Shah, and by the looks of her darkened eyes and chilling, devilish grin, she’s been celebrating for hours already before her fellow cast members arrive to find her awash in the soapy bubbles of vindication.
This one goes out to Andre from the Dr. Bronner’s social media, who decided to shoot his shot in the replies looking for a link to the episode because I made a joke about Meredith Marks using their soap, which she wasn’t. Huge respect to you, Andre, wherever you are.
(Rating: Top Shelf)
The Holiday Event of 2022 is coming…
I still think we should be talking a little more about how that seems to very clearly be Lindsay’s face ‘shopped onto a stand-in’s body, as Ms. Lohan was likely on her 12th cigarette break of the hour when this scene was filmed. But nevertheless, I am excited for Netflix’s first film comprised largely of deepfake technology!
The Holiday Event of 2021 is here…
I’d like to preemptively declare this the Top Shelf, Low Brow holiday party. I won’t be there, but my god will I be there in spirit.
What Hath Nicole Kidman Uttered?
This video of Kirsten Dunst being extremely fake straight to Nicole Kidman’s face has been making me scream for the last 24 hours. That’s awesome to know, Nicole!
I am first inclined to think that Nicole was telling Kirsten about her promotion for AMC theaters that now runs before every single movie at every single AMC location, but I would also believe that Nicole told her that she simply didn’t have to try to do an impression of Lucille Ball for her upcoming film Being The Ricardos, as told by Hollywood’s Leading Maniac Aaron Sorkin in an interview with The Hollywood Reporter last week that was as wild as it was insipid:
As always,
(Rating: Top Shelf for Kirsten’s fakery, Low Brow for Aaron Sorkin being Aaron Sorkin)
Some people wait a lifetime for a moment like this
At the MTV EMA awards last week, Kim Petras performed a new song called “Coconuts,” which is literally just about boobs and finding 100 different ways to talk about them without being censored. Prolific artistry, if you ask me. You can imagine how thrilling this was for me, a known proponent of big ol’ chesticles!
The song will apparently not be released until January 2022, which seems absolutely fucking baffling to me, but if I have to wait a little bit longer to have the International Tiddy Anthem I have always deserved, so be it!
(Rating: Top Shelf)
Finally, Britney is free
Britney Spears has been released from her 13-year conservatorship at long last.
The heavens have opened and the world has smiled.
That’s all for this week! I will be listening to Adele’s new album on Friday with an open heart but extreme trepidation. Until next week, love you! 💖
God I love all of this