Category Archives: celebrities

Is catcalling ever okay?

cat paint

A while ago I wrote a piece for my blog titled “Stop hitting on me” that people both praised me and critized me for. I think the criticisms came from people thinking I was bemoaning how hot I am and how I’m sooooo sick of male attention. Not even close. I don’t think that and that isn’t what I was trying to say. I probably should have titled the post “Stop harrassing me.” That is closer to the point of the article. Anyway, if you don’t feel like reading it, the post is about how rude and upsetting it can be when strange men harrass young women when all we’re doing is minding our own business. We should be able to walk down the street without a stranger commenting on our appearance. Doesn’t matter if the man in question is young or old. It comes off as creepy and disrespectful.

But. But. A few nights ago I had an experience with catcalling that did not make me feel degraded. It actually made me feel…happy. Attractive. Confident. Is this wrong and hypocritical?

I’ll explain the situation.

I don’t often like going to parties alone. I’ve written about the subject and on my blog and on Hello Giggles about how it’s okay to go alone and have a kick-ass time, but on occasion I feel overwhelmingly shy and not good enough. The event I went to last night was a gathering of beautiful people and hosted by one of my all time favorite film directors/artists and usually this doesn’t bother me, in that, I’m born in LA and have lived here my whole life, so who cares about celebrities, but given the drama that’s happened lately, I felt kind of small. And I’m really embarrassed, even ashamed, to admit that. Though I eventually met up with the awesome person who invited me, I had to go in alone and be there alone for about 40 minutes. But once I got in there I was okay. And here’s why.

I was waiting on the corner in my dress and lipstick and heels pretending to be busy on my iPhone determining if I should go in alone. I felt like a dweeb. Just very shy and not at all confident. I’m doing nothing with my phone and a car is at a red light near me. I don’t notice it until the man inside rolls down his window and says something like, “Excuse me, miss.” I’m thinking, “Okay, here we go.” And he says, “You have the perfect body.” And I’m stunned. I’m about to attend a party where there are size 0 actresses who look stunning like a ray-gun. I do not think I have even close to the perfect body. He went on. “I’m not trying to be weird or hit on you, but I muted my phone call just now, put them on hold, I had to tell you. You look so good.”

And I almost cried. I know. I’m apalled. But I needed to hear it, and he was so kind about it. “Thank you,” I said. “Thank you so much.”

“No problem. You look great. Really.” Then the light turned green and he drove off.

Maybe my perception of body image is warped, and by maybe I mean, 100% completely is. I was surprised to receive this compliment from a strange man. And yes, I was flattered.

Am I screwed up? What do you think and what’s your experience been like?

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Take Note From Katy Perry.

katy perryPhoto by Ali Szubiak.

Two things most people know about Katy Perry: her left boob and her right boob. That is a damn shame. Katy Perry (formerly Katheryn Hudson) went from a sort of indie folk singer-songwriter complete with Zooey D dresses and acoustic guitar, and a powerful voice, to a spandex dress wearing, teenage dreaming, definition of pure giddy pop. Yes. Non-believers, watch:

 


 

But, Just Like Gaga (lest we forget that she too started as a folkie gal with a piano), she reinvented herself to be relevant and make money. And what the hell is so bad about that? Wouldn’t you do the same?

Why do people hate Katy Perry and pop music in general? Pop music will live forever. It’s fun but it can be unexpected. It influences fashion. And oh the great Halloween costumes that come from it! Like this:

 Where was this costume last year?? By the way that’s supposed to be a Rihanna costume behind her. Change the wig, lost the skirt, and you got a Gaga costume.

How smart is she to recognize that her fans dressed like her at her concerts and should make a Halloween costume for the masses, so that all DIY challenged fans could dress like Katy? How smart indeed. Some would say diabolical. Others would say that her managers and such pushed her to do it. Well duh, everyone has managers and lawyers and etc. But some pop artists have more control than others, and I bet that Katy is one of them. She knows her fans. She interacts with them on her personal twitter that, for better or worse, is written by her and her only.

Her record company was adamant in keeping ‘I Kissed A Girl’ off her debut album. Katy fought for it. Girl has great instincts. And that wasn’t a fluke. “Katy Perry is the first woman to have five #1 songs from one album on the billboard charts. She’s tied with Michael Jackson.” (source). Could a total idiot strike lightning five times? She knows her image and she knows her crowd. She can get slimed on at the Kids Choice awards with as much enthusiasm of being on the cover of Vanity Fair. In that issue she said,

“I don’t care what people say about my relationship; I don’t care what they say about my boobs.

People are buying my songs; I have a sold-out tour. I’m getting incredible feedback from my music…I don’t take anything for granted. There are 500 other girls right behind me. And I know that, because I was one of them. I remember what it’s like to be someone who’s always trying to get there — sending out tons of e-mails — trying to connect with some person who could connect me to some other person. And I wouldn’t be working at this pace now if I didn’t truly know that fame is fleeting.”

She gets it. She has fun but she also works her ass off. She parodies herself in her videos and gives Rebecca Black a cameo. That’s a crazy smart thing to do considering that Rebecca Black is one of the most talked about “artists” right now. How many pop stars do you know whose songs are sung by Stephen Colbert and Jimmy Fallon on national tv?

Does she contradict herself at times? Yes. Did she wear some really silly outfits at the most recent VMA awards in perhaps an attempt to Gaga it up? Maybe. Did she try to go too artsy with her “E.T.” music video? I’m sure of it. But she also got Kanye on that track. Kanye!

And then she’ll defy your expectations and take her biggest pop hit and turn it into a jazzy “whoa-what-the-hell-is-this-(in a good way).”

So leave her alone. If you think about it, there really isn’t a big difference between Lady Gaga and Katy Perry. I think one of them even wrote songs for the other one, when they were starting out. Both sing amazing pop songs while dressed as Bjork. There is nothing wrong with liking Katy Perry.

Say it with me: “There is nothing wrong with liking Katy Perry.”

I like Katy Perry and I like David Bowie. You can like pop music and classic rock. The two are not mutually exclusive. So don’t be ashamed. And don’t be hateful. Either way, she’s doing really, really well for herself. And how about you?

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I FOUND MY KEYS.

This comment on my last post, from Beat Of My Own Drum was so good I had to make a post out of it:

I hope feminists won’t hate me for an observation I’ve made. I’m all about women empowerment, after all. But I’ve observed that no matter how successful a woman gets in her career, it’s her personal relationships that she chooses to define her. It’s not true for all women, but it is for most, it seems. That’s probably why, even though we’re strong women, we wouldn’t mind being swept off our feet by a prince.

Or maybe it’s the Chanel suits and not having to work our asses off to earn enough.

Why did this never occur to me before? Is it like when you’re looking for your keys and you realize you’ve been holding them the entire time? Okay so who hasn’t known someone (celebrity or friend) by this description and this description only: _____’s girlfriend. Maybe some rockstars’ girlfriends/ex wives/whatever make their living by writing about their flings (which, shit, is pretty much what I do, fffffffuuuuuuu) and if that’s the way they wanna go, OK, you make that work like a factory. Is it just that their male partner’s fame eclipsed theirs? Let’s be real, no one was ever going to refer to JFK Jr. as “Carolyn Bessette’s husband.”

But even successful women of their own right can never dodge their relationship statuses: Marilyn Monroe AND Hillary Clinton both had trouble shaking off their man troubles, even though both women were powerful and famous. This is the one thing I really dig about Gaga right now: when she said, “Your career will never wake up and tell you it doesn’t love you anymore” she fucking meant it. We don’t hear about who Gaga’s dating (well, except for when she tried to convince us that she was bisexual; kissing your best friend at a crazy freshman NYU party DOESN’T COUNT I’M JUST SAYING). I don’t even care, come at me, if Gaga’s bisexual than I am part Batman. IT’S JUST SO FUCKING CALCULATED. EVEN MADONNA WENT THROUGH HER LESBIAN PHASE WHEN SHE NEEDED IT FOR HER CAREER. REMEMBER THE WHOLE SANDRA BERNHARD THING? WHY AM I SHOUTING? We hear about her career. And her outfits. But her career. It’s inspiring. Until she wears fake dinosaur bones in her face or whatever is going on there.

I don’t have any answers, but I now have a desire to define myself by who I am and what I do, not who I’m fucking. Or “dating.” Or “married to.” Or “divorcing.” Or “murdered.” Right???

I haven’t forgotten about my reader questions! In fact I am currently editing (with some rad people) my latest Apocalypstick video installment and this one is shot on nice cameras and with lighting that isn’t the glow of my MacBook! It looks great! We’ll probably have that done by the end of the month. I also have a new Betty Draper video to post so…you know, hold onto something, because that’s gonna knock you over. I’m also on vyou now but I don’t even know how to deal with that yet. I am drowning in Internet right now. AND I just started writing for The College Crush which is full of practical advice even if you are in high school or out of college.

Real Wild Child (Wild One) – Iggy Pop

MAD props to Robin for the gif!

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JOHN CUSACK, WHAT THE JOY!

UPDATE IN CUSACK TWITTER FIGHT ’11:

BREAKTHROUGH, AS COPY/PASTED FROM MY TWITTER:

You guys, we did it! @johncusack is now following @juliagazdag. Thank you, @johncusack. Maybe now she’ll have 2012 followers!

I love the internet. Thank you! You guys did it! We did it together! This is the change Obama was talking about!

Let’s thank him by RTing this:

@apocalypstick: Thank you, @johncusack, for being so cool and showing us your true IDENTITY.

CHANGE WE CAN BELIEVE IN!!! RAISE YOUR BOOMBOXES HIGH OVER YOUR HEADS AND BLAST THE SONGS OF FREEDOM!!!!
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John Cusack, WTF?

I have a really important issue here.

John Cusack.

John Cusack, for seemingly no reason, blocked my friend Julia on his Twitter. Julia is a huge fan. Here is what went down:

johncusack i may invoke twiiter [sic] rule 7439.8 ” if one fills feed with cap lock lines from one of my old movie he may be blocked without mercy

juliagazdag @johncusack what about twitter rule #243b: “thy tweets shall at least attempt some semblance of correct spelling and grammar.”

johncusack and your blocked! RT @juliagazdag: twitter rule #243b: “thy tweets shall at least attempt some semblance of correct spelling and grammar.”

johncusack i just viciously blocked someone who tweeted false rule about spelling_ was tough love but i had to do it

juliagazdag Most people find “sassy” charming. @johncusack apparently finds it offensive. Sass lost in typed translation? Either way, I am now sadfaced.

johncusack just blocked the wrong person i think.. oh well.. sorry!

juliagazdag Do you mean me? If yes, yay. If no, continuing with sadface. RT@johncusack just blocked the wrong person i think.. oh well.. sorry!

And that was it. HE IGNORED HER SAD FACE PEOPLE. HE. IGNORED. HER. SAD. FACE. All she did was point out a minor spelling mistake in a cute, lighthearted way, because she is a huge fan. AND HE THREW A TWITTER TANTRUM AND BLOCKED HER.

We cannot let John Cusack get away with this. I think we can all agree that this is the most pressing issue of the year. Join me, friends. Join me in the fight. Here’s how. I tweeted this:

Hey, @johncusack , Why did you block my friend @juliagazdag? She didn’t even SAY ANYTHING.

Here’s what you can do. You can RT it (I’m @apocalypstick) or copy/paste the above and tweet it on your own. BUT WE MUST GET MR. CUSACK’S ATTENTION, BECAUSE UNFORTUNATELY, THIS ALL WENT DOWN ON SUPERBOWL SUNDAY. AND SOME PEOPLE SEEM TO THINK THAT THE SUPERBOWL IS MORE IMPORTANT THAN STARTING TWITTER FIGHTS WITH CELEBRITIES.

Together, we can do something really big. And by big, I mean get something popular on Twitter.

And Mr. Cusack, I am more than willing to hear your side of the story. I can interview you for my blog. If you say no, I will likely make up a fake interview like I did with the band Train.

(On a totally unrelated note, here’s something I wrote for This Recording called “The Dark Side of Audrey Hepburn.”)

ANYWAY. THE CUSACK THING IS REALLY IMPORTANT. JOIN ME, FRIENDS!!

I Will Follow Him — Little Peggy March

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The Time I Blew It With That Actor.

I’m in a fashion shoot!! Whaaaaat??!! Check out the latest issue of Genlux!

Recently I got the chance to meet That Actor from this popular cable TV show. And I completely blew it.

Here’s how: vodka gimlet + two Moscow mules + approximately three shots of vodka + talking to That Actor = my own personal Titanic.

I watched his show occasionally but I mostly remembered him from this wonderful little indie movie he did when I was in college. I thought it would be a great idea to talk to him, never mind the fact that I was drunker than Ulysses S. Grant when he won the Civil War.

Neither of us knew who the guy was who the guy was who introduced us. Basically I grabbed this guy who was flirting with me and said, “INTRODUCE ME TO [THAT ACTOR] OVER THERE.” And he did, but for all I know he could have said, “Hi, I’m with the FBI, this crazy girl wants to kill you, I’m just going to need you to pretend to engage her so we can stand by ready with our guns.”

What did we talk about? I have no idea. I can barely remember. I know that I talked about Arby’s. Why? I have no fucking idea. I’ve never been to Arby’s. Maybe I have a secret deep passion for Arby’s and I’m hoping that one day I tell this to the right person who exclaims, “ME TOO!” and all will be well. Who the fuck knows.

I remember he told me that he liked my necklace. I said, “I think it would look good with your outfit,” and promptly pulled it off of my head. I then went to put it around his head and said, I swear to god, “I think your head is too big for this.” I told him I wanted to burn down the decorative swimming pool in front of us. I may have made a “That’s what she said” joke. I said, a few times, “Wait, can we start over? I’m Almie” and shook his hand (on the bright side, he sure didn’t forget my name by the end of the night….if that’s a bright side.) I told him, I’m not crazy. (Which is really great, that’s how you really convince people you’re not crazy, you know, by putting that idea into their heads in the first place. That’s like if a cute little ten-year-old-girl came up to you and said, “I’m not evil.” You would think, “Holy shit, this girl is evil.”) He said I didn’t need to say that. Then, to officially claim my place as the biggest loser of all time, I told him my story about how my friend interviewed him in college and how that should have been me and how he owes me an interview. He asked what for. I said, “My blog!” and gave him my card. He asked what my blog was about. I think I said, “Dating, living in LA, and feeling awkward kind of like this.” I joked about my card, saying that the “actress” description under my name was “theoretical.” He was a complete gentleman this entire time. I don’t know why he didn’t immediately get up and say, “Excuse me…I have to go stand over there…now” and leave. Maybe he thought I was entertaining in an R2-D2 kind of way. Like, oh look at it beeping! Look at its lights! Look at it spinning! Neat!

At one point someone tore him away for a press photo and he told me it was his boss and he would be back. My friend swooped in, said we had to go because she was tired, and I said OK and then teetered off to the bathroom. When I came back, the glaring brightness of the bathroom lights clashed with the darkness of the club and I couldn’t see a fucking thing. I put on my glasses. I think black glasses work really well with a little black dress and vintage necklace, and fuck whoever disagrees, I’m awesome. I wanted to say goodbye to That Actor, and at least I knew this time I could see him, and who knows when I would see him again.

I found him and said goodbye. He told me he didn’t recognize me with my glasses on. I think I may have shouted, “YEAH, GLASSES!” and high-fived him, but I can’t be sure. However I’m pretty sure that once again, for the love of God, I talked about Arby’s. He told me to get in touch with his people regarding the interview and I said something like, “Pssshh, you have my card, you get in touch with me.”

First impressions are everything. When guys meet me, in any situation, they either think I’m a manic pixie dreamgirl, like Annie Hall meets Ellen Paige meets every girl who works at a vintage store in Brooklyn, or they think I’m the manic crazy sullen girl who stands outside of 7-11s shouting at some guy named Brian or Jimmy. I can’t control that. But I think everyone needs to know that I am never that drunk. Earlier in the night I was absolutely charming. We all go a little mad sometimes. Actually, quoting a line from “Psycho” is probably not my best defense. Putting this on the internet may not be my best defense. But I think it’s a pretty great story about how really all we need to be is ourselves. We don’t need to get drunk. We are good the way we are. We have nothing to prove.

Though I have to say I’ve been dating This Guy right now who finds my drunken shenanigans “hilarious/adorable” so maybe it’s all about finding the person who not only accepts your awkwardness, but gives it a high-five.

Now please tell me your personal tales of drunken destruction.

If You Want It — TV Girl

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