You know, if there’s one thing I just don’t get, it’s our cultural fascination with celebrities. (Okay, there are other things I don’t get too, like the Rideau Club, and how anybody can still support George Bush, and people who dread retirement.)
But I can’t seem to muster up any interest whatsoever in celebrities. I actually thought Perez Hilton and Paris Hilton were the same person until one of them went to jail a few months ago.
I know lots of intelligent and otherwise interesting people who have a seemingly endless appetite for the minute details of celebrities’ lives. They devour rumours and gossip with their friends about these people as if they know them. “Brad was never really in love with Jen,” they’ll muse, “he loved her, but he wasn’t in love with her.”
They’ll talk about how celebrities dress, whether they’re gaining or losing too much weight, their plastic surgeries, relationships, fights, rivals, addictions, parenting skills, pets, everything, anything. Like they know. And like it matters. And there are whole magazines – hell, there are whole aisles of magazines – that feed the obsession and churn out new or recycled rumours every week.
The other day I was going through the checkout at the grocery store, and there was a celebrity magazine with a photo of a woman who had her hands up on her head, and her armpits were circled. The headline said something about a fashion faux pas. I couldn’t help it – I studied her armpits, trying to figure out what she had done that warranted front page coverage. I don’t know who she was, but I think she was guilty of failing to tan her armpits. I found it baffling because why would anybody care?
I guess the whole thing puzzles me because I don’t understand what people get out of celebrity-watching. Is it kind of like sports, in that if you follow it, you’ll always have something easy and non-controversial to chit-chat about? Or is there more to it than that?
Perhaps celebrities fill the social role that used to to be held by a royal family and associated courtiers.
I remember a study that said that people who follow celebrities lives are as happy as if they actually had a very active social life. Even if their actual social life is non-existent and limited to Entertainment Tonight.
I don’t get it either personally. Why do people care? And I feel sorry for those poor people. Can’t they just let them be? I’m sure some of them love the attention but they can’t possibly all enjoy it.
Maybe it’s like sports. One theory of why people get hooked on sports is that fans feel their thoughts can influence the outcome of the competition.
Hi Zoom! You hit the nail on the head with this one. I don’t get it either. I have no interest in anything coming out of Hollywood. Are these spoiled, shallow, self absorbed individuals the ones who society should be looking up to as role models? They teach us how to drink & drive & earn a criminal record, or to endanger the lives of our children while partying. All I can say to their fans is “get a life.”
I don’t think the fascination is positive. I don’t think people want them as role models at all. I think people enjoy watching them fall, fail, fight, get flabby. That I really don’t get. If WE put them on pedestals as “sexiest person alive” or whatever, why do WE want to see pictures of them having a burger and fries and a bad hair day? Are we that unhappy with ourselves that we need to live vicariously through them then dump on them too?
It’s not something I follow but I saw that armpit shot too. I figure people need a finite base level of fluff in life and for some reason, National Enquirer isn’t it anymore?
These are all very interesting comments. I’m especially intrigued by the concept that we put them on pedestals because we like watching them fall off.
Did you know that Lance Armstrong and Ashley Olsen are dating? He makes her call him Uncle Joey. 😉