Magazines don’t talk about poor Leonardo DiCaprio or Jake Gyllenhaal, still not married
Sure, searing government-toppling, Pulitzer prize-winning investigative reporting is all very well. But if I’m entirely honest, my favourite kind of journalism is: “So-and-so shows us round their lovely house and explains how their interior designer convinced them to go for a Golden Girls vibe mixed with Captain von Trapp’s mansion for their gated house in Manchester.” How a celebrity designs their home is so much more revealing than anything you read in gossip magazines – plus, I really like looking at other people’s wallpaper choices. So when the latest copy of Architectural Digest arrived with the coverline “At home with Jennifer Aniston”, tools were immediately downed and the afternoon schedule cleared. In a state of something close to bliss, I gazed upon photos of Aniston’s Bel Air home, which has handpainted wallpaper (an actual thing, apparently) and a marble bath twice as big as my bed. “Jennifer Aniston,” I thought, looking at her garden, which has a pagoda in it, “has a pretty sweet life.”
Except we now know that I could not have been more wrong, because it turns out that, despite the handpainted wallpaper, Aniston’s life is a gigantic human tragedy, a veritable wastepit of emptiness. Shortly after that article was published, Aniston and her husband, Justin Theroux (AKA the other, other Theroux), announced they were separating, and a cry went up in media outlets around the world: “Activate the ‘Poor Jen’ autobutton!” Whatever sighs of pleasure I may have emitted when reading about Aniston’s “Asian-inspired pocket gardens”, they were nothing next to the orgasmic grunts of excitement the tabloids made as they, on autopilot, hammered out headlines like, “Why CAN’T Poor Jennifer Aniston Keep A Man?”
Continue reading...from US news | The Guardian http://ift.tt/2GFVnVr
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