Obviously there's been a lot of hubbub about Kim Kardashian and her Paper photoshoot. Chelsea Handler instagrammed a pic of her own butt in retaliation. This has officially become a "thing." I joked on Facebook yesterday that maybe Ass Wars (posting pictures of your own ass) is the new Ice Bucket Challenge.
"Can we stop talking about her already?"
"Here's why the price of oil is expected to rise in 2015."
Yeah, yeah, yeah. I agree with all of it. (Even the people who keep talking about her just by virtue of saying "Can we stop talking about her?")
I've never seen a Kardashian TV show. When I was at BlogHer this summer, I actively avoided seeing Khloe at some haircare booth. I don't care about any of it, don't want it. But I do see something I like in all of this nonsense.
My butt is in style.
My butt is in vogue.
My butt had a brief renaissance back in the early aughts when J-Lo was on the scene trying to convince us she was from the block, while at the same time dating a Ben Affleck who's never looked more plastic.
After J-Lo faded into the background of Marc Anthony's Skeletor-like shadow, my butt went away (from the public consciousness; it never left my body). Skinny was back. Skinny jeans. Short skirts. This sort of old-fashioned '30s look you needed to be waif-thin and boobless to pull off. I'd give Banana Republic the finger every time I passed by from, like, 2005-2008.
But now, thanks to Kim, Iggy, and their ilk, butts are back. I may never be able to shrink down to a size 4, but damn it if I can't plump up my posterior to the point where it can eclipse the sun.
Thank you, Kim Kardashian, for sharing your gifts with us.
Enjoy this post? Click like on the Hammervision Facebook page and join the party.
Type your email address in the box and click the "create subscription" button. My list is completely spam free, and you can opt out at any time.