marilyn monroe

They Always Tell You to “Be Yourself”

Jackie Kennedy, known for her grace and…”

“Audrey Heprburn, a timeless fashion icon who exhibited elegance and sophistication…”

“Marilyn let men chase after her, and it was seldom ever the…”

Her big brown eyes looked sadly over at the television screen. She was nursing a twisted ankle, the results of her efforts in trying to help her mother clean the floors.

“Blossom, are you alright?” her mother had asked her earlier. She was lying on the floor, wet from the soapy water, and was mentally scolding herself for being, yet again, so careless. “Just go to your room.”

As Blossom headed to her room, she could hear her mother’s faint mumbling. “…this girl can’t do anything right.”

And she knew it was true: she couldn’t do anything right. Not even simple house chores.

The documentary on TV about the most admired and beautiful women in history began to wane out, now just a simple slideshow of the women’s achievements with some sentimental background music. Blossom looked at the clock: 7:58 PM. It was almost ending anyways.

She leaned against her bed, her eyes still on the television screen. She wanted, so desperately, to be that elegant, that classy and sophisticated. She recalled a girl who her mother had pointed at school, who she’d labeled as “pretty, natural, classy”.

That girl who her mother had pointed out had actually been one of the most popular girls in school. Not for her looks or her chest size or whatever. It was her intelligence that did it, the way she interacted with people, and the way she presented herself. Beauty is only skin deep, after all. Blossom would observe her, taking note of how she acted, in the hopes that she, too, could become that well composed and intriguing.

Because Blossom was none of the things that she wanted to be. She wasn’t graceful like Jackie, instead being a complete klutz and was falling and tripping left and right, hardly ever taking notice of precautions or consequences or any of that stuff.

She was far from Audrey’s elegance. Blossom’s idea of a comfortable outfit literally consisted of shorts and a loose T-shirt. She loved her worn-out sneakers and secretly loathed getting dressed up and wearing makeup. She hated heels. She even hated ballet flats.

And don’t get her started on her dating life. “Let the boys chase you”? Please. She loved the chase. She loved being the one to go after what she wanted, thinking of ways she could win him over. She wasn’t patient or coy enough to have it be the other way around. Why wait for something that you could make happen yourself? She would think.

Blossom was an interesting girl. She liked laughing loud and showing emotions. She enjoyed being 30% tomboy and acting like a kid. She loved getting overly excited about the smallest things in life. That’s who she is.

But the thing is, she doesn’t like who she is. That’s not who she wants to be. She wished that she could be less clumsy, more apt, smarter, and that she could actually strut in ballet flats without looking like a duck waddling at the park.

All throughout elementary school, all throughout those awkward teenage years, they always tell you to “be yourself”. But what if you don’t like who “yourself” is?



Death: The Ultimate Popularity Booster?

Marilyn Monroe and James Dean

Marilyn Monroe and James Dean

The great die young, apparently.

It’s no secret that I have a strange and possibly unhealthy interest in people who aren’t around anymore. For lack of a better word, dead people.

A couple weeks ago my dad asked me who my favorite actor was or who my Hollywood male interest was at the moment. Without hesitation, I quickly opened my mouth to say, “Cory Monteith.” But then he sharply added, “An actor who is actually alive right now.”

Well that stumped me. I couldn’t think of anyone at all, other then maybe Teen Wolf‘s Tyler Posey.

I began to ponder about my grand obsession for the people of the non-living: Marilyn Monroe, James Dean, Elvis Presley, JFK, Cory Monteith. Do I like them for them? Or just simply because they’re not around anymore?

When famous people die, the response is crazy. Their names are on every tabloid, all the news stations. Tributes are broadcasted all over television, at award shows, in TV shows. There’s non-stop publicity for weeks or even months. Because of their death, they’ve suddenly become this popular topic, this person who all of a sudden seems so great, so talented.

Since we’re suddenly bombarded with all of these great things about that deceased person, we’re left to admire their shining points: Whitney’s powerful voice, Michael’s signature moonwalk.  We begin to see how valiant or extraordinary that person was. We sigh to ourselves in admiration, as well as a hint of sadness because, well, that person is gone and we can’t meet them, ever (exactly what I do when I read things about the Kennedys to be honest).

Those bittersweet feelings of sadness and admiration are even worse when that deceased famous person dies young. “He had so much potential,” we may say to ourselves with that same sigh. “It’s such a shame.”

Cory Monteith

Cory Monteith

“You never know what you’ve got ’til it’s gone” is the cliche phrase. But it seems quite plausible in this case. We don’t know how great a person is, well, until they’re dead and gone. I hardly knew who Cory Monteith was until he showed up everywhere on tabloids with his death. Now he’s gone and all I can do is look at his twitter and sigh to myself, because he was such a humble and funny person. His humor and personality is rare in Hollywood, actually. I guess that’s why people loved him so much. I really wish that I could’ve met him.

On a brighter note, check out Cyndi Lauper’s “All Through The Night”. My favorite throwback song at the moment.

Opinion: Lady Gaga’s AMA Performance


Not as funny as it seems.

Let me just start off this post by clarifying that I am not an anti-Gaga fan. But, I am a strong and avid Kennedy fan.

JFK’s affairs aren’t a secret. He’s had more relationships with women than he himself (or anyone else for that matter) can count and it’s a well-known fact that he’d been quite the womanizer. And of course, Jackie had known this.


Behold, everyone, Jacqueline Kennedy. As many of you may already know, I am currently reading “These Few Precious Days” by Christopher Anderson, a biography that tells the story of Jack and Jackie’s relationship (I actually finished it a couple of days ago but am still in the process of soaking it in). I learned much about Jackie while reading that novel. She wasn’t naive, she wasn’t that innocent little girl who waited on JFK’s hand and foot. She was a strong, independent woman, a woman who knew about her husband’s infidelities. But if she knew, then why didn’t she divorce him, you may ask?

I, myself, had wondered the same question. Apparently, she had considered divorce. Twice. Her father-in-law, Joe Kennedy Sr. had to bribe her with money to have her stay with JFK because he knew that she would make the perfect first lady. Also, JFK had originally married her only because his father told him that he needed a family if he wanted to become president. He needed a wife and children. All for the image. The Kennedys were very much into the image of things, after all.


JFK hadn’t been the only unfaithful Kennedy. Actually, all of the Kennedy men were unfaithful, courtesy of the teachings of the Kennedy patriarch himself, Joe Sr. He encouraged them to play the field. In turn, the Kennedy boys viewed sex and women as nothing more than a hobby of sorts. In JFK’s mind, his philandering was morally acceptable.

Jackie allowed the affairs. She’d even sometimes made jokes about Jack’s girls, as expected from her dark humor. But she had always been extremely wary of one particular woman: Marilyn Monroe.

The last thing Jackie wanted to be was a laughing stock. Monroe often bragged to people that JFK was going to leave Jackie for her, that she will eventually be the new first lady. Jackie feared that JFK’s affair with Monroe would leak out to the press (which would’ve caused uprising for sure since Hollywood and politics weren’t known to exactly mix back in the 60s) and that, in turn, would humiliate her and downgrade Camelot’s image and reputation forever.

The “JFK and Marilyn Monroe” hype certainly is insulting to me. I respect Jackie Kennedy greatly, considering that she’d been the one right next to JFK when he got shot. She’d been the one soaked in her husband’s blood. She had to live with the entire world knowing that she’s the widow of the assassinated president.

And now the media decides to do what Jackie feared: publicize the Monroe affair. Not only was this award show broadcasted across the nation, but it was also performed by the extremely popular Lady Gaga. Teenagers watch this, younger kids watch this, and what will they think of JFK because of it?

“He’s the president who had an affair with Marilyn Monroe. Jacqueline Kennedy who?”

The affair shouldn’t be mocked. It shouldn’t be publicized on live TV where millions are watching. Because Jackie Kennedy is a woman who deserves to be respected, and a grand exaggeration of her husband’s affair is not only a humiliation to her, but to the Camelot era as a whole.

And now here is one of my favorite (or perhaps even my absolute favorite) pictures of Jack and Jackie. The way she’s looking at him is just simply breathtaking. It’s as if she finds him to be the most incredible and wonderful man in the entire world, which she did. She did.


If you made it to the end of this post, I sincerely congratulate you. -throws confetti-