We all want to be one, don’t we? To hold the attention of millions, to receive crazed fan mail, to be stalked by paparazzi and make the front pages of tabloids. We all want that, don’t we?
I remember (well, to be honest, I can only imagine, as I’ve been born long after) the good old days when celebrity gossip was just that, gossip, something that ran around in some circles, and definitely didn’t make the pages of countless magazines. Days when celebrities could go out in public without manic paparazzi desperate for a single shot hounding them. Days when a celebrity was more than some mindless, irresponsible, spoiled brat. But those were more than celebrities, they were stars, in the true meaning of the word. Stars like Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers, Clark Gable, Ingrid Bergman, and the likes.
I recall reading once an interview with both Michael Caine and Jude Law, in which Caine said, back in the day, he was never followed by the media, none of the actors, well known actors, were. Then again, he is British, and they haven’t yet reached the level of Americans as far as a “star-systems” go.
And come to think of it, it’s not really any celebrity’s fault, it’s the media’s fault, for exploiting our very own need for idols. Idols it loves to make and break. Look at Britney, I truly doubt she was that disturbed to begin with. We’ve gotten to a point where our own hunger for celebrity gossip is so engrossing that we don’t care about what it takes to get it or what the results are. Luckily (though I can’t find it in me to call it fortunate) today’s stars seem to be coping with it (at least most of them), dealing with it by embracing it rather than denounce it’s foul stench.
And despite all that we still want to be a celebrity, don’t we?