I've found myself thinking about Cat Marnell lately. It wasn't my intention, really. I mean, I have
written about her before, but I kind of assumed that was it. Anyway, I read a lot of online beauty writing. Like a lot, a lot. So it turned out that I'd actually been reading her beauty writing for possibly ever. I never put two and two together,
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- Some men are all "Mmmm, I bet she'd be a riot in the sack";
- Other men would be "Awww, she just needs a nice guy to take care of her ... but I bet also she'd be a riot in the sack!";
- Some women would be "There but for the grace of God...";
- Other women are happy to have some to "tut-tut" about;
- Some people would see her almost as a role model, sadly.
Anyhow. Yes, lots of gross generalizations; mea culpa. But I think you get the idea; so many people can project something onto her, they connect, or at least think they do, in some weird parasitic way, and they cling on like remoras until the celeb in question dies or disappears or joins a church or a cult or in some other way stops "exhibiting" (in the "exhibitionist" sense of the word). And yes, it is creepy, and yes, it is weird/interesting/fucked up that this happens with women "trainwrecks" but not with men.Finally, I'll close with this, which touched the hell out of me back in the 1970s and continues to do so.
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Honestly, wrt Marnell, I just hope she eventually becomes happier. And I'd also like more beauty writing, but that's purely selfish.
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/puts on "Spoonful Blues" by Charlie Patton
I don't know what that makes me. Not a celebrity vulture, probably.
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