Gay men everywhere are all a-twitter over two concert tours in the news -- Madonna's Sticky and Sweet tour, naturally, and Janet Jackson's Rock Witchu tour. The Madonna one is obvious, because since when have homos ever not been excited to see her skank it up in fishnets and corsets? Janet (insert Miss-Jackson-if-you're-nasty joke here) is receiving a little less press, but I'm sure the queens think she's fabulous all the same.
As you can see in the photo at left, Janet recently dropped quite a few pounds for the tour, not surprising considering she does this every few months. You don't have to go beyond the impulse buy section of the grocery line to see which celebrities are ballooning up to unemployable proportions, and because people love to kick others when they're down (or, as
Anthony Bourdain puts it, the best time
to kick someone), Janet seems to be a favorite target because everyone remembers those insane abs. You remember. Depending on your secual orientation, though, you may not have seen the abs below the hands cupping those surgically perfect boobs. Of course, this was back in the day when everyone and my grandmother hadn't seen Janet's nipple already. Do you know how hard it is to explain intimate jewelry to your grandmother?
So anyway, at least twice a year, Janet's abs disappear underneath a layer of body fat and fleecy clothing (see below) and poorly-written supermarket tabloids go all frothy at the mouth about it. I admit to experiencing a certain amount of schaedenfreude, as well, and not least because I'm a fan of beer and bacon and dislike anyone who says I shouldn't in order to be prettier. Sure I should unite with fellow deliciousness fans behind Janet and campaign for fat famous person rights. But I won't. Here's why...
I have ZERO sympathy for celebrities who bitch about how much pressure they're under to stay thin, young, and hot, and I refuse to get all up in arms about one of them being embarrassed on the cover of the Enquirer. Instead of "you poor thing," to them I say: tough shit.
People like Janet Jackson are paid about
200 times more than me, and that's during a slow year. During a concert tour year, especially one for a singer who continues to earn royalties from
1989, that salary goes way up. The way I see it, Janet and her peers are being paid to do far more than sit behind a desk all day. In addition to being entertaining enough to make more for their bosses and turn a profit for themselves, famous people are getting a shit-ton of cash to be attractive.
Sweatsuits, especially in L.A. and especially
especially not printed with "JUICY" across the ass (if those are even sold anymore, I live in the Midwest where people are still wearing them with disturbing pride), are
not attractive.
If you're getting more than 8 figures a year, you can
afford to get your ass to the gym and hire a nutritionist. How long do concert tours last, anyway? Certainly not the entire year. Well, then, I guess you have time to work out and eat sensibly, too.
Let me be clear -- there's nothing wrong with being big. If you're into that sort of thing, rock it as hard as you can. Like I said, I'm highly impressed by beer and bacon, and as you may imagine of a person who sits in front of their laptop and writes stuff like this, I'm not the smallest girl you'll ever encounter. I'm no slouch, but there will be no bikini wearing in my near future. I don't get paid to bust my ass at the gym after 9 hours in the office. I don't get paid to contract someone to shop at Whole Foods for me several times a week.
Janet Jackson does, which is why I'll be caught sporting an evil smirk when her tour ends and her chin envelops her collarbones and the JC Penney sporting apparel department gets just a tiny bit richer.
