I've Always Loved the Way They Loved (Taylor's Version)
Lana Del Rey's insane Insta posts, Taylor rereleases Fearless, Milo Ventimiglia's legs(!), Ziwe's iconic new show, Troye Sivan in a thong, Sharon Stone's milestones, & more rated Top Shelf to Low Brow
First, I just wanted to say hello to all the new subscribers and thank you for being here. I appreciate it so much! This is the Monday letter, where we look at some of the best, worst, and silliest of pop culture from the week before and rate it on the scale of Top Shelf to Low Brow. I hope you enjoy and if you ever want something covered, leave a comment, DM, or email. Inboxes are always open, baby!
Okay, I also have to say this. I know this is going to be annoying because so many people are still experiencing vaccine gridlock, but last week was the first time in over a year I’ve been thankful to live in New York. When the pandemic began started, I was an unemployed college student just finishing up my last semester, but after I no longer had school to keep me busy, I perked my head up and found that New York was not really the best place to be during a global crisis. I’ve always gone up and down on my love for New York in the near-decade I’ve been here, but the cramped living conditions, maskless people on tiny sidewalks, packed panic in grocery stores, etc. really were not making this city a super lovable place. Not to mention it’s all garishly overpriced. And I’m not within driving distance of my family, so that’s another knife to the heart. Throw in an already-crowded job market turned on its head by record unemployment and me fresh out of college...at 26 and well, it hasn’t been my favorite year in New York. That is, until last Wednesday when I got my sweet, sweet first hit of the Pfizer.
I got in and out with zero complications. And for someone deathly afraid of needles, I felt next to nothing. Described it to many as someone accidentally sort of tapping you with a mechanical pencil in 6th grade. Truly a painless experience made even better by the fact that I now finally feel like I see some microscopic semblance of a light at the end of the darkest tunnel of my life. If you’re a New Yorker and still having trouble booking your shot, feel free to DM or email me and I’ll use my spare time to help you in whatever way I’m able! But Turbovax really is your best friend.
Other than that, there’s not much to report! Still stuck on the same part of Donkey Kong Country, still listening to Janet Jackson’s Discipline on repeat thirteen years later, still unemployed aside from this newsletter. Kind of a slow week in pop culture, so there’s not too much to cover today, but let’s get into it.
Top Shelf, Low Brow: April 5 — April 11
Lana Del Rey, I BEG of you to STOP!
On Friday, The Duke of something aka Prince Whatever croaked after months of being meme’d about looking like the Crypt Keeper if the Crypt Keeper was severely dehydrated after a week-long bender during which he forgot to apply his Biologique Recherche every night. It’s no secret that I really don’t care about the royals (again, the only Duchess I curtesy to is the Dutchess Fergie Ferg), and based on easily googleable evidence of the guy being a lifelong racist asshole, I don’t feel the need to be particularly kind in the wake of his death.
Lana Del Rey, of course, feels differently. Never one to simply say nothing on matters that do not concern her, Del Rey took to Instagram after the news to post not one but two(!) photos of the Queen and Prince Philip. “I’ve always loved the way they loved,” Del Rey captioned the first photo. Yes, what a beautiful sentiment! It was always so inspiring to see the two royals put the fact that they were cousins beside them to love so wholly!
Unsurprisingly, almost every comment on the post is a Lana Del Rey fan begging her to stop, or at least think before she posts. “you make it so hard for me to stan you,” said one. “LANA I CAN’T DO THIS ANYMORE” and “PHONE. NOW.” were more impassioned pleas. And, of course, tallying up 45,912 likes, a comment that simply reads, “lana theyre cousins.”
At this point, I have to wonder if Lana Del Rey is simply the ultimate troll or if the fumes from the chemtrails over the country club descended upon the grassy croquet greens, clouding her judgment once more. It’s getting exhausting.
(Rating: Low Brow)
Milo Ventimiglia, are you perhaps free to teach me some jiu jitsu rolls this week?
Mouth aghast and agape, jaw on the floor, over the thick, juicy ham hocks Milo Ventimiglia is working with.
Nevermind the fact that his sleeves are rolled up to put the arms on full display. It’s just very interesting to me. I want to reiterate that I’ve been on this train since I used to catch episodes of Gilmore Girls that my sister was watching in the living room. I’m first in line. Thank you! I claimed the spot!
(Rating: Top Shelf!!!!!! No like top shelf, please!)
“Sobbing Half-Naked in My Bathroom (Coleman’s Version)”
Admittedly, I’ve been a little hard on Taylor Swift since the inception of this newsletter, something people have never been afraid to point out to me. Despite, of course, one of the first Friday letters being an entire personal essay dedicated to the way “marjorie” made me feel three years after losing my own grandmother, putting folklore and evermore on my top albums of the year list, and my years of noted Swift support and lite stanning that are well documented. But I’ve found that with many Taylor Swift fans, you’re either 100% with her or 100% against her — history doesn’t matter when it comes to a new battle! And while I admire that dedication, pop culture is much more interesting with nuance and context. I still think her “Gasoline” feature isn’t great and still think her Ginny & Georgia tweet was ill-conceived and myopic. And I still love her music!
Obviously, I had been looking forward to Fearless (Taylor’s Version). The original album was the first Taylor album I ever heard in full and the first one I ever fell in love with after my sister forced me to listen to it top to bottom and on repeat in her car when she still had to drive me around before I got a license. But, I will say, part of me wondered how well I’d do with letting go of those original versions, of which I knew every intonation, guitar pluck, and breath. Turns out…pretty well!
Though a cardinal sin to some fans, I shuffled through the album to start my first listen. I had to listen to “Forever & Always” immediately, as I am a “Forever & Always” warrior. And it was just as good as ever, just in line with the original version enough to keep me from longing to ever listen to the original again — exactly as she intended. I made the mistake of listening to “White Horse” next. I only say it was a mistake because I listened to it immediately after getting out of the shower, so there I stood: wet, naked, and crying (still hot, though!), listening to a song that managed to become 500% more interesting and resonant with all the years between the original and Taylor’s Version. A mess! But that’s the thing about these new versions, years of my own personal experiences and looking back at the person I used to be, combined with my knowledge of Taylor Swift’s own life and growth since the original Fearless, make for an emotionally rich listening experience.
I had to pause after listening to “The Best Day,” which sent me into a spiral so deep I truly thought about packing it all up in a rental car and stepping on the gas for 21 straight hours to go see my parents for the first time in over a year. That song is fucked up. She had no right to write something so fucking powerful. Much like Jeanne Tripplehorn near the end of Basic Instinct, I was reduced to nothing but the primal screeching of, “She’s evil! She’s brilliant!” Because she is! Evil for making me feel the things that I thought had been neatly tucked away since I was a teenager and brilliant for the very same reason. I have yet to listen to the tracks from the vault, but I’m sure they’ll produce a similar, if not equal, reaction.
(Rating: Top Shelf)
Going to Press: Janet Jackson and Paula Abdul Edition
I don’t know if Janet Jackson heard about Paula Abdul’s return to American Idol as a guest judge in tonight’s episode or if she was just feeling particularly sentimental towards her fellow music industry legend/friend, but her posting this photo of them both is very important to me. Especially when, as I’ve said, I’ve been listening to Discipline a lot lately and also rediscovering my love for Paula Abdul’s forgotten 2008 dance-pop comeback single “Dance Like There’s No Tomorrow.” Perhaps God is finally going to prove their existence to me and answer my prayers for an imminent, expertly-choreographed collaboration between these two icons. Or Janet was clearing out her camera roll.
(Rating: Top Shelf)
Me? Laughing at Snooki? In 2021? Who could’ve guessed it?
One of my big cultural blindspots is Jersey Shore. Obviously, I was there for the moment, just didn’t pay much attention to it. The show’s logo was always too garish, abrasive, and masculine for me, I think it played a big part in why I never cared to tune in for more than five minutes of an episode. Although, somewhat ironically, that same obnoxious display of masculinity is absolutely what drew me to the April 2010 issue of Interview, in which the men of the show had a multiple-page shirtless spread. Let’s just say I wasn’t buying it for Carey Mulligan’s cover story that month.
Anyway, this week, Snooki has been retweeting old pictures of herself that people send her and giving context for each of the snaps. Whether 100% accurate or not, they’ve still been making me laugh. Here are some of my favorites:
(Rating: Top Shelf)
Ziwe will be an iconic guest on my television next month
The first trailer for Ziwe Fumudoh’s new self-titled Showtime series has arrived and, naturally, it looks to be an iconic, chaotic, and delightfully silly televised romp. I keep accidentally getting sucked into watching the entire trailer over again when I see her open it with her breathy, “HI.” Instantly captivating from one look! Calendar marked.
(Rating: Top Shelf)
Two instances of what we in the biz call APPOINTMENT VIEWING
The first, Gaga’s full Dom Perignon advert directed by Nick Knight. Like I said last week, it’s insane that she’s serving the best visuals of the Chromatica era for a champagne none of her fans will ever be able to afford, but I’m not going to like…be mad at this?
Also, last night Barbara Corcoran of Shark Tank and Corcoran Group Real Estate signs in front of for-sale Brownstones fame posted a video of her reading tarot for Real Housewives of New York cast member Leah McSweeney? I’ve seen every episode of Shark Tank that has ever aired and never once has Barb mentioned she reads tarot. So clearly I’ll be watching this with a snack:
(Rating: Top Shelf)
These twinks want me dead.
Troye Sivan shirtless and wearing a thong. That’s all. My heart has had a murmur since I saw these.
(Rating: Top Shelf. Or bottom! Whatever u want me to be, babes. I’ll bloom just for you. Sorry this letter is kind of horny I’m just realizing.)
Sharon Stone distinctly remembers the day she found her own cup.
Absolutely cannot pull myself from this truly wild (and yet…beautiful?) response by Sharon Stone to this Instagram post from Brooke Shields, who is explaining why she’s emotional about making it downstairs on crutches after breaking her femur in February.
The neighbors still didn’t wave lol.
Let this serve as a note to myself that I need to purchase the audiobook version of Sharon Stone’s memoir as soon as humanely possible.
(Rating: Top Shelf)
That’s it for this week! Thank you so much for reading and being here, I appreciate you giving me your time so much. If you’re hungry for more cultural commentary but missed last Friday’s letter, don’t forget to check out The Kidz Bop-ification of Gwen Stefani. Continue to take care of yourselves and I’ll see you on Friday!