From lesbians to Kelly

I don’t know much about much. But I know one thing for damn sure. Lesbians love them some Kelly Clarkson. Maybe it’s her feisty independent streak. I mean she sang “Miss Independent” after all. Maybe it’s her cathartic post-breakup song selection. Put on “Since U Been Gone” in a lesbian club and watch everyone – and I mean everyone – sing along. Maybe it’s her relatable everygirlness complete with Texas waitress backstory. That she never seemingly strives to be a size 0 makes me happy about the universe. Maybe it’s those rumors. Whatever, they’re rumors – I have no claim to knowledge about which team she plays on one way or the other. Or maybe, just maybe, it’s that the gal can flat-out sing. No egg carriage or papal themes or fireworks tits required to keep our rapt attention. Whatever it is, us gay gals can’t get enough. So here’s to you, Kelly. May your breakup anthems keep gay gals singing to you at top volume in the car for years and years to come.

Stronger


Since U Been Gone


Behind These Hazel Eyes


Miss Independent

And, of course, nothing says you’ve made it with the lesbians like the Troubletones covering your music. Plus it’s five more weeks until “Glee” returns. So we have to pass the time somehow, and how better than with a little Kelly.

Gender Fuck Thursday

Beyoncé may have emphatically sung about going “to the left, to the left,” but today is all about the right. No, not the state of being correct or, banish the thought, the political affiliation. I’m talking about the actual physical direction. As in turn to your right. Your other right, Brittany. Hey, not all the themes are deep. But they are hot. So without further ado, all righty then.

Piper Perabo
Monica Bellucci
Dita Von Teese
Janelle Monáe
Tilda Swinton
Kelly Clarkson
Katharine Hepburn
Juliette LewisWell, there’s always a contrarian.

p.s. Hey, tumblesbians. I’m always extremely, extremely flattered when you post my pictures. But, if possible, please provide a link back. Consider it old-school reblogging. In keeping with today’s theme, it’s just the right thing to do. Merci buckets.

My Weekend Crush

You’d be hard pressed to find someone who isn’t, somewhere deep down, at least the tiniest bit in love with Kelly Clarkson. How could you not love her? We all know the story: An ex-cocktail waitress plucked from obscurity, voted on by America and transformed into a superstar. She is the pop star next door; an everywoman with an otherworldly talent. Her voice is clear and in command, as is – from the looks of things – her life. Which, once again, only makes you love her more.

What quite possibly makes us love Kelly the most is that she is so refreshingly, confidently herself. She is still a spunky gal from Texas who just wants to sing her heart out. The blinding glare of celebrity that can cripple so many into self doubt and self loathing has not changed who she is. And who she is is a gal who sometimes weighs a little more, sometimes a little less, but always looks entirely normal and altogether fantastic. As she told SELF magazine:

“My happy weight changes. Sometimes I eat more; sometimes I play more. I’ll be different sizes all the time. When people talk about my weight, I’m like, ‘You seem to have a problem with it; I don’t. I’m fine!’”

This of course makes the recent brouhaha around her airbrushed SELF cover all the more ironic. The very magazine in which she professed her happiness with who she is is apparently not all that happy with who she is. Why else would they Photoshop her to be who she is not? And why, after admitting to the airbrushing, would they say it was an attempt to make her “look her personal best.” No, you’re trying to make her look like who she isn’t. Which is not her personal best; it’s make believe. Also, if your goal (as the editor professed) is to “inspire women to want to be their best,” how can they possibly attain that when what they are aspiring to is pure fiction? Thanks for setting us all up for eternal failure.

Look, I hadn’t intended on turning this into a very special body awareness week on Surrenders, but the world keeps making me repeat myself. Some airbrushing is inevitable. But the wholesale rearranging of a human being is not. Must we learn, once again, from the wisdom of Angela Chase? “People are so strange and so complicated that they’re actually... beautiful. Possibly even me.” And definitely Kelly. Happy weekend, all.

Gender Fuck Thursday

Mmmm, tasty, tasty androgyny. I’ve always been a sucker for a lady in a suit. The blending of the traditionally masculine and the wonderfully feminine is just, well, yum. And the blurrier the lines (hello, Tilda Swinton, come sit closer to me) often the better. But it’s more than just the look; it’s also the swagger. Thumbs in pockets. Shoulders squared. Jaw set. How quickly can that lead to jacket on floor? Shirt crumpled. Skin sweaty… Wait…where was I? Oh, yeah. Fuck yeah, gender fuck. [Click any and all to enlarge.]

Natalie PortmanSigourney WeaverKate BeckinsaleAlicia KeysSamantha RonsonKelly ClarksonAlicia Silverstone

Kelly lets her eagle soar

Kelly, Kelly, Kelly. Listen, hon, you know I love you. Anytime “Miss Independent” or “Since U Been Gone” comes on in the car, I sing along at top volume until the people I pull up next to at stop lights start looking at me funny. I love your openness and assertiveness. I love that you seem like a real person. And I really love that you believe a Diet Red Bull and pack of cigarettes does not constitute dinner. But these pants, dear God, these pants. Seriously, what is up with all the unfortunate bottom half choices of late? Why are these pants so wrong, you ask? Let us count the ways. First, there is an eagle on your crotch. If that doesn’t scream out for some kind of “let the eagle soar” pun, then nothing does. Secondly, they seem to badly fit to your body type. This means they emphasize all the wrong areas and sag off of the right ones. And thirdly, they look like they’re pinching the heck out of you in some very private places. I mean, just look at the way they’re making you jump around.

Kelly FUCKINROCKSTAR Clarkson

So, I've always considered Kelly Clarkson the most talented and refreshing of the American Idol victors. And, staged or not, this "impromptu" performance by her, the lead singer of Yellowcard (whose name is Ryan Key and whose new occupation is apparently Kelly Clarkson's boyfriend) and the hair band Metal Skool is fun to watch. She plays air guitar, chugs Chivas and sings "Sweet Child of Mine." See it here. Rock on wit ya bad self, Miss Independent.