MILLENNIAL DIARY
PRESUMABLY the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse were on annual leave, because this month’s end of days was heralded by the photo of a grinning, luminescent Donald Trump at his desk in the Oval Office, beside Kim Kardashian.
The accompanying tweet from POTUS read, ‘‘Great meeting with @ KimKardashian today, talked about prison reform and sentencing.’’
The consensus from the world at large was, ‘‘Whaaaat?’’
Kardashian, the people’s president, was meeting with Trump, apparent actual president, to advocate on behalf of 63-yearold grandmother Alice Marie Johnson. Johnson is currently serving a life sentence for a first-time non-violent drug offence, and Kardashian has been taking an active interest in the case since sharing a viral video of Johnson’s unfair sentence last year.
The photo, which we woke up to last Thursday morning, sent us reeling. The sight of these two reality TV stars who’ve possibly been punching above their weight for some time now, in the authoritative pomp of their surroundings, was too much for many people to bear.
It was described as the most bleak and disheartening image of 2018 so far (yes, worse than the gassed children of Syria, worse than the drowned bodies of refugees — there’s nothing us millennials like more than a bit of catastrophically myopic hyperbole). How dare she, with her big arse and strangely cyborgy face, have the gall to talk domestic policy with the US president? Aren’t there much better, more qualified, people who should be talking to the president about prison reform, people who’ve devoted their entire lives to getting justice for people like Alice Marie Johnson?
Of course there are. But this was a genius move. Donald Trump is obsessed with celebrity. If you want an issue brought to his attention, why not have the woman who basically invented celebrity do it? Why not use Trump’s starry eyes for good instead of evil, especially seeing as most celebrities respect the Trump-embargo and wouldn’t go near him for a photograph. Johnson’s legal team expressed their happiness and gratitude that Kardashian was using her platform to draw attention to the plight of Alice and people like her. And they’re right.
It’s easy to make fun of Kim, it’s easy to tell her she’s out of her depth, that she should stick to lipliner and Instagram. But we should probably accept that it would be easier for her to do that too. I’d usually be the first person to rouse a lolz-mob at Kardashian’s expense, but this time, damn... I have to back her.
Afterwards, she tweeted to graciously thank Trump for his time, and firmly added: “It is our hope that the president will grant clemency to Ms Alice Marie Johnson who is serving a life sentence for a first-time, non-violent drug offence.”
In the photo, while Trump’s face is contorted into his trademark menacingly empty gurn of a smile, only thrilled to be beside Kim K at his disturbingly empty desk, Kardashian is composed, a very thin smile on her very plumped lips. She stands apart, aloof, dressed entirely in black.
You won’t notice unless you look hard, but stamped across her crotch, on eye level with the sitting president, is an embroidered ‘‘Vetements’’ logo. Vetements is a painfully cool fashion in-joke, that sells the same T-shirt DHL delivery drivers wear for nearly €200. The founder has described the aesthetic as, ‘‘ugly, that’s why we like it’’. What better silent judgment than the label that epitomises the emperor’s new clothes, beside the bloated emperor himself.
In a few days, she’ll start trying to sell ‘‘appetite suppressing’’ lollipops or something equally heinous again and we can all relax and point our fingers and say isn’t she awful. But not today. Well played, Kim. Your move. Millennials who, like Trump, are partial to a bit of slebstalking were devastated and strangely turned on to discover that Emma Stone (below) has been linked to Justin Theroux.
Ther-who? You’d be forgiven for asking, seeing as his name has never before been seen away from Jennifer Aniston’s, his ex-wife. I kind of thought he’d just cease to exist after the divorce was announced, just as he was before they were married. But no, 47-year-old Justin has been spotted gallivanting with every millennial’s deceptively obtain a bleseeming crush, Emma Stone. The pair, who filmed the upcoming Netflix series Maniac together (did you know Justin was an actor? Me neither) were at a villa with buddies in France, then at the Louis Vuitton Cruise show. They were seen leaving the Met Gala afterparty together and went to the Queer Eye launch together. Most damningly, they have been spotted attempting to inconspicuously eat sushi together. Together! The trouble is, we love Emma Stone — she has the daffy and relatable thing down. She does it less aggressively than Jennifer Lawrence, and is pale and ginger — for this, we love her. But Jennifer Aniston was doing that when 29-year-old Emma was still in nappies. Jen invented goofy-but-gorgeous. We grew up on Friends and, as a generation, we are very protective of her.
The Theroux information, if true, rocks our entire world view. The black and white thinking that we so adore falls down. We can’t hate Emma Stone, she gave us La La Land! She pulls faces! She has freckles, for God’s sake.
Perhaps this could be the push we need to accept that shades of grey exist; no one is just good or just bad. I’m just annoyed that the catalyst is a man whose face is so generic, I can’t actually make my eyes focus on it. For shame, Justin. Whoever you are. Festival season is upon us, and millennials everywhere are girding their loins for a summer of finding glitter in places glitter should never be and warm beer. Everyone knows that there’s nothing millennials love more than mild queuing for a portaloo — that is, apart from house plants, which we treat with the same love and consideration our parents lavished on us when they were our age.
Imagine our joy, then, this weekend at Bloom in Phoenix Park where these passions collided to create our favourite day out. I grant you, to the uninitiated, the festival which describes itself as “a showcase for garden plants, garden design, construction, horticulture and gardening as a hobby” may not seem a natural fit for a generation so devoted to memes, Netflix and lip-fillers.
But the millennial passion for plants is well documented — any selfrespecting 27-year-old will own at least a couple of succulents which will occasionally keep them up at night, wondering whether the crinkly leaves are normal and is the dedicated spray-bottle really efficient enough for watering. Besides, a healthy interest in horticulture goes nicely with the arthritis we’re developing in our thumbs from smartphone overuse.
Anyway, I hear it’s easier to smuggle a naggin into Bloom than the main stage at Electric Picnic. And glitter-boobs are an actual novelty there, not eye-rollingly basic. And you can ask about those crinkly leaves. It’s the millennial dream.