Every time I see a photo of Lady Gaga, I say to myself, “Oh, yeah, right…that‘s what she looks like.” Because whenever I’m not looking at her photos I kinda forget. All I can ever remember is a sort of opaque severity. Bleached (or shaved?) eyebrows, ultra-sharp cheekbones, alabaster skin, eyes out of Fritz Lang‘s Metropolis. The truth? Her features are striking but her face isn’t really “there.” That’s why it keeps disappearing.
If I were to run into Eminem on a street I’d spot him like that, but not LGG. I mean, if she didn’t have bodyguards and an entourage with her, which I’m sure never happens. If she didn’t have an out-there personality and a pronounced sense of avant-garde style and the singing-dancing talent, of course, she’d be…I don’t know, some kind of sad Edward Hopper-type figure. She’d be a clerk behind a window at the DMV in a Michael Mann film.
