Teach me your tichel ways.

I think it did. But I’ll tell you what doesn’t suck: Sia’s music video for “Elastic Heart.” I know this one has gotten more than its share of attention, albeit mostly from those who consider it either pedophilia or pointless absurdity or both. But that’s some mishegoss, because while it is absurd, it is certainly not pointless or pedophilic. I thought about writing about it in depth, but Erin Keane at Salon said everything I was going to say already. I almost joined Twitter solely for the purpose of messaging her, “Erin: you are SO RIGHT. But can you tell me now how I can stop myself from watching the video for the 700th time in a row?”
I’ve heard people say that it’s about Sia’s relationship with her father, and Sia herself said it was about “two warring ‘sia’ self states.” I like the latter explanation better. A folie a deux occurring inside a single person. I keep coming back to the idea of Ziegler as a kind of dancing id, something feral and composed entirely of instinct. Who is Shia, then? Unclear. But $20 they met in AA.
If you’re doubting me on the Freudian thing, check out the video for “Chandelier,” and then get back to me. So if we’re being teleological here––and why WOULDN’T we be––that makes LaBeouf the ego or the superego. Something is swirling around in here (the video, and my brain, which are kind of one and the same thing at this point) about the perils of doing things because society TELLS you to, like pose for publicity shots. Who knows this better than a former Disney slave? Oh SIA YOU CLEVER SONGBIRD YOU. I’m seriously looking for someone to recreate this dance with me (I call Ziegler’s role.) Oh, and Maddie, if you’re reading this: you’re a true artist. Don’t let reality TV destroy you.
So I can color it in.
Can I just say, it’s about time the Satanic Temple upped their marketing game! Scientology has put them to shame.
When I was obsessing over how to buy beetles to make earrings like the ones from Moonrise Kingdom? Lulu Frost heard of my plight, and she answered!
Goodness it is TOUGH to be a trendsetter.
Off to Miami tomorrow. So excited. Please don’t bother me while I’m there––I’ll be reading and sunbathing.
I’m embarrassed because I feel as if every post I write begins with an apology for being out of touch. The truth is that the past few days, it’s been mighty difficult to peel myself out of bed. If only I were Gogo Schiaparelli, the daughter of Elsa and the future mother of Marisa Berenson (did you know it’s pronounced Mar-ee-za?) Particularly the last part:
“After leaving Abbot’s Hill, she went to school in Paris, spent a winter in Munich, and took cooking lessons from a Russian chef. In London she lived in her mother’s home with a chaperone, went on holidays to Morocco or Rome with her mother, and then might spend a few weeks visiting Diasy Fellowes’s villa at Cap Martin and from there head to Monte Carlo. She traveled with her own pink silk sheets.”
Oh, and did I mention that I’m getting married?