A three-headed Lady Gaga covers V magazine's "Asian issue," and inside, the songstress pens her much-awaited, first style column for the glossy. A few key excerpts:
Glam culture is ultimately rooted in obsession, and those of us who are truly devoted and loyal to the lifestyle of glamour are masters of its history. Or, to put it more elegantly, we are librarians. I myself can look at almost any hemline, silhouette, beadwork, or heel architecture and tell you very precisely who designed it first, what French painter they stole it from, how many designers reinvented it after them, and what cultural and musical movement parented the birth, death, and resurrection of that particular trend. So dear critics and bullies: get your library cards out, because I'm about to do a reading.
Okay, so she's better at this/life than we are. Then, the article takes a turn toward the philosophical:
There is no chicken or egg. It's molecular. Cells give birth to cells. To put it more bluntly, the Hussein Chalayan vessel I wore at the Grammys wasn't inspired by a chicken. It was stolen from an egg. But the transformation, the context, and the approach taken to reinterpret the meaning of birth and rebirth in terms of fame on a fucking red carpet -- this is what creates the modernity of the statement. The past undergoes mitosis, becoming the originality of the future.
Can I get that last sentence on a t-shirt, please? Then, there's her epiphany on the set of the "Born This Way" video:
Accompanied with a side ponytail, it took me back to moments when I was just a little baby monster. When my mother would perch a pony high on my hair and we would dance so hard to the tape deck that the perfectly perched pony she fashioned would fall to the side. I had to take an uncomfortable journey back into high school, where my youth represented tears. Wishing I had a mask. Hoping that I could artistically hide the woulds buried deep from years of being bullied. I have since reckoned with this psychology in my performance art. But this time, the revelation was clear. I still want to wear the mask, but now I wear it proud, and with the same effervescence and innnocence I had when I was 6, dancing with my mom.
And wear that mask she does, on one of her faces, anyway.
Take a look at Gaga in V and for more, head over to Vmagazine.com.
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