Viva la diva!
Journalist and society watcher Ella Vermeulen comments on the world of Hollywood and its surroundings. This time: star allure, divas on the red carpet.
Inner diva
Sometimes I fear that stardom has died a silent death. Celebrities have become so boring, so #grateful, so cautious, that it is soporific. But every now and then one emerges who cherishes her inner diva. I laughed out loud when singer Tyla arrived at the MET Gala in a Balmain of three types of sand, as you do. She could barely walk in it, let alone climb stairs, so she had to be carried up the steps, which somewhat detracted from her grand entrance. Behind the scenes, her creation was cut down to a mini dress.
Delicious sensation, and spoiled pussy Kim Kardashian was meanwhile conspicuously gasping for breath, because she had hoped to make a splash with her wasp waist that made pooping and inhaling oxygen impossible. Then being outclassed by a young doll, of all people in the label that Kim has put back on the map in recent years, was of course too sour for words and the frustration dripped from it.
Cannes
Cannes also offered hope that the diva is not yet an extinct species. Singer Kelly Rowland fought a security guard on the red carpet. Reason: Kelly wanted to celebrate her photo moment exuberantly, the security woman urged her to move on because more people had to go in. Whereupon Rowland snapped with a pointed finger “Don’t talk to me like that!” and thus seized a completely different moment. Wonderful culture shock: the Gallic indifference of the French security woman who was not at all impressed by the cursing of the brand new blonde, who was indeed swept inside under protest.
I think we have to make do with moments like this. Everything is directed, curated and filtered these days, nothing is left to chance. On a red carpet, however, celebrities don’t have the protection of their own bubble, they have to perform. And share the attention, something they’re not good at. Let alone that they like it when they’re asked to move on a bit. The audacity. “Don’t you know who I am?!” Lovely.
Star allure
My hopes are on Ben Affleck and Jennifer Lopez, who make a sport of annoying each other in front of a hundred and fifty photographers. Wedding ring on, wedding ring off, Ben grumpy, Jennifer hissing instructions at him, then reluctantly leaving the field, but still throwing in a kiss, because every photo opportunity is one.
It pleases me that Mariah Carey is working on The celebration of Mimi, a show that is entirely dedicated to her self-proclaimed genius. Mariah doesn’t even do stairs in a wide skirt (she’s been carrying herself for years), she only drinks Cristal champagne ‘through a flexible straw’ and nothing in her field of vision may be checked. I have no idea how a check can negatively affect Her Mariahness, but I can’t get enough of it. Fortunately, they still exist, star airs.
In every Glamial, Ella gives her unvarnished opinion on the tricks of famous faces from both Hollywood and Hilversum. Never miss a column? Then get the latest Glamial in your home or subscribe via Tijdschrift.land.
