Saturday, January 13, 2007

"It's You I Like"...except for that hair color and those shoes...WTF??

Let me preface this li'l essay with words from one of my fave children's TV personalities (and NO, it's not Soupy Sales).

It's You I Like,
It's not the things you wear...
It's not the way that you wear your hair,
but it's You...I like.

The way you are right now,
the way-down-deep-inside you,
not the things that hide you...
not your toys, they're just beside you.

It's You I Like,
Every part of you,
Your skin, your eyes, your feelings...
whether old or new.

I hope that you remember
even when you're feeling blue -
that it's You I Like,
It's You Yourself...
It's You...
It's You - I - Like.

That said, I made the mistake of watching non-Boomerang television today. (I know - I was home alone - I just got a wild hair up my sizable ass...go figure.)

Anyway, I watched part of "The Devil Wears Prada" on On-Demand (high-tech PPV). I missed it in the theaters this summer, and I think I'm thankful for that. Why? I had no trouble with the acting and even got some of the messages in it (appreciation vs. imitation; looking a little deeper; corn chowder doesn't REALLY have cellulite as a main ingredient).

What irritated me about the flick? MANY THINGS. (BTW, let me tell you - with movies costing $7.50 for matinee prices, I am really glad this presentation only cost me four bucks. I don't want to think about walking out of a movie that cost about the same as my health insurance co-pay.)

For one thing, are you really going to tell me that dragon-lady she-devil bosses like her ONLY exist in the fashion industry? Au contraire, mon frere et ma soeur. (And y'all thought I flunked French!)

I have had bad bosses of both sexes, and they exist everywhere. I worked in a law firm as a clerk/typist for four months and the boss-lady made Meryl Streep's character look like Glinda the Good Witch (with a better outfit, though). This woman and her husband had a law practice together, and I worked within the abstracting company that the woman basically ran.

I was there four months, and in that time, four people left. One only stayed an hour. Why did they leave? The boss.

This place was strict - for starters, we were not allowed to talk to each other AT ALL when the bosses were there.


Not even when we had to go to the restroom - I quickly learned the American Sign Language gesture for "I'm going to the restroom". It was VITAL.

The new hire that only stayed an hour? She was sent home when she - brace yourself - COUGHED within the boss' earshot. The boss was a MAJOR germophobe, and the new hire was sent home when she said, "No, I don't have a mask I could wear!" when the boss asked her if she did. I left about two or three weeks after that.

Also, there's a scene in the movie where our heroine's sense of fashion is being transmogrified by Stanley Tucci's character (who looks fine in a tweed jacket). This is supposed to make us understand that our heroine is just as "in the wrong" as the dragon lady (i.e. the cutie pie is disdainful). The results are striking, and I'm OK with that, but as a working stiff/admin type, I have to say some of it is a li'l out there, even for a fashion magazine employee. Come on - am I supposed to believe that this chick doesn't have a podiatrist on retainer once she starts making those stilettos part of the daily routine?

I finally turned it off when you could see that our fair heroine was understandng the literary significance of her employers whilst passing out freebies she got from work.

OK - I am a fat chick. I'm just as likely to shop at Wal-Mart or Sears as I am Lord & Taylor or some upscale plus-size store. I live with that because I am honest with myself.

Furthermore, I KNOW who Calvin Klein is. I know who Dolce and Gabbana are. I know that if you spell the first name with an "i" instead of a "y" whilst keeping the last name 'Brown", you're talking about a cosmetic brand as opposed to Whitney's soon to be ex husband. I can usually tell the difference between shades of the same basic color. I know the difference between silk and satin. I know that Paloma Picasso dabbles in fashion and cosmetics.

But I am who I am. I guess I don't get this main character (who is Hollywood beautiful) being a bright Northwestern grad (GO BIG TEN!!! YEAH!!! GET SOME!! Whoops...showing school spirit for a second...whoops) and not knowing that many high-end fashion mags are a big honor for any literary type to work for. I knew it, and I'm just some secretary broad. How could SHE not know it?

Secondly, bringing back the "psycho boss" point - I would really like to know why people who are put in some sort of authoritative position aren't mandated by law to have psychological evaluations before officially assuming the job. Really - what would be so wrong with that? I think everyone reading this probably has at least one current/former employer in their head right now that deserve some intensive Freudian-tinged therapy, and are LONG overdue.

Yes, our fab li'l heroine did need to learn some things that she didn't learn in school...but it ain't shoes and purses she needs to know about. It was just about this magazine's place in the literary world. (I'm sure it was either Vogue or Harper's Bazaar that was being lampooned, if not a hybrid of the two.) If I (some fat chick with a mental disorder and calluses on her feet) know the literary importance of magazines of this nature, Li'l Ms. Hottie should too.

But then again, that explains why I make much less than the author of the book and the stars of this movie. If I made this movie, my heroine would have punched Meryl Streep in the face and signed up with Manpower, then started free-lance work. It would also have lasted 8 minutes (with credits and out-takes).

And one last point - I think if these folks listened to the above-quoted song more than Madonna's "Vogue", maybe there wouldn't be so many girls with anorexia and bulimia out there that aren't happy with who they are.

Chew on that, folks...