Last night, after your (how do I put this?) awkwardly degrading performance at the MTV Video Music Awards, I saw your mum get on her feet and applaud.
If I were your mother, you’d be getting a stern talking-to this morning.
That was not art, and it was not sexy. It was desperate. Remember the uproar when you danced suggestively in short shorts and incorporated a stripper pole into your performance a few years ago? We yearn for the simpler time of that stripper pole now. Last night’s show was a Cry for Help. Even Robin Thicke, who pervs it up with nude women in the "Blurred Lines" video, looked a little weirded out by you rubbing all over him. And what was all that nasty business with the tongue?
I get it: You’re no longer Hannah Montana - and that’s ok. Knock yourself out with that tough chick haircut. It’s normal for a growing woman to want to leave girlish things behind.But that doesn’t mean you need to leave your talent behind, too – and I didn’t see a bit of that on display last night. (I did, however, have an expansive view of your ass cheeks.) Instead, I saw a little girl playing the saddest game of dress-up ever, trying on every sexual cliché you can think of and some no one would think of (see: foam finger self-love), but none of them ringing true. If you’re going to try to out-Gaga Gaga, you should have a point of view you’re in control of, and a stronger, more resonant message than “up yours, Disney!”