‘Part e-commerce hub, part raindrops on roses’
Despite pretensions, celeb sites in business of flogging stuff
“Pretty please. It’s not just a way to get what you want. It’s a lifestyle.”
So begins the blurb on Reese Witherspoon’s new website. The 39-year-old actress is the latest in a long line of stars to appoint herself an arbiter of taste. “Draper James” — it’s named after Witherspoon’s grandparents — is a tribute to the Southern belle.
Designed to help you achieve “contemporary, yet timeless Southern style,” it sells clothing, accessories and stationery — mostly floral. Indeed, the whole site is a cloying smorgasbord of baby blue, polka dots and flowers.
In a video introduction, Witherspoon, a Nashville native, sits on a sofa (floral) and attempts to explain why you should care. This is not an Oscar-worthy performance. She can barely wipe the smirk off her face. Southern charm it ain’t.
It amounts to this: Reese looks pretty. You need to look pretty, too. How you should achieve this is clear. Spend, spend, spend.
A magnolia necklace that resembles something from Reitmans, circa 2009, will set you back US$245. There’s a book bag emblazoned with the slogan “Totes Y’all” and a magnolia-shaped silver bowl for $400. The $300 yellow magnolia dress is sold out. (Sorry, darlin.’)
And for when you’ve decided to poke your own eyes out? A set of blue “Southern pencils” — embossed with slogans such as “goodness gracious,” and “oh my stars,” — is $14.
Perhaps naively, I thought we’d peaked when it came to celebrity blogging. What, I reasoned, could be more full-on than Gwyneth Paltrow’s Goop? Gushing lifestyle advice, delivered by a glossy Earth mother whose only concern seems to be transforming our lives into one long Reiki session, “nourishing the inner aspect,” with macrobiotic enemas.
Turns out, I was wrong. Any celebrity worth their (artisan) salt now has a lifestyle site. From supermodel Gisele to actresses Alicia Silverstone, Jessica Alba and Kate Bosworth. Even the rapper Jay Z is in on the act.
The Gossip Girl actress Blake Lively recently launched her version, Preserve, which promised to be “part magazine, part e-commerce hub, part raindrops on roses, part whiskers on kittens, part man, part machine, all cop.”
Each follows a formula. Expensive products. Check. Stories from “real people.” Check. Recipes. Check.
The occasional glimpse of said celebrity among all the pretentiousness. Check.
It’s not that a quick scroll through these sites isn’t enjoyable on some level. But, when it comes down to it, I resent the concept of having my life curated by a group of people who live in a rarefied bubble. It’s a cult of personality. Like an A-list light has been shined directly into your eyes and, when you blink again, someone’s stolen your wallet.
Critics have also questioned Witherspoon’s attempt to fetishize the American South. Deeply divided, it’s long been seen as a byword for intolerance. Last week, President Obama spoke about its “legacy of racism” on the Letterman show. It’s hard to deny that many of the region’s inhabitants live below the poverty line. And, sorry Reese, but no amount of overpriced magnolia-shaped gewgaws is going to fix that.
Witherspoon’s site, like most celebrity blogs, also features a philanthropic promise — presumably to make you feel guilty that you ever mocked it.
Draper James wants to help “young women become entrepreneurs, effective leaders, and creators of social change.”
Lively’s site aims to give “5,000 children a meal, 2,000 children a blanket, and 2,700 children a warm hoodie.”
And let’s not forget Gwyneth’s recent attempt to live off food bank rations for a week. (She bought the ingredients to make guacamole and admitted defeat after realizing a family cannot survive on dip alone.)
Look, I’m not saying that Witherspoon and her ilk don’t have their hearts in the right place. But if you want to inspire a positive change then make like Angelina Jolie or Emma Watson. Give a rousing speech, start a campaign, take a stand. Don’t shove personalized cocktail napkins down our throats and hope we don’t choke on them.
Because among the recipes, tips, artisanal whatnots and pieces about their perfect lives, there lies an unavoidable truth.
We’re being flogged stuff. And I’m not buying any of it.