Reblogging Julia
A critical analysis of the public ramblings of the creature formerly known as Ms. Baugher, who provides a manic amount of content to parse.
Every little thing she does is tragic.
Talk to me (juliabaugher at gmail) Always held in strict confidence.
Fall update.
Christ, it has been way too long and yet not nearly long enough.
Since we last parsed, a few issues of national importance have taken center stage. A presidential election, hurricanes in the South, and a near collapse on Wall Street. Naturally, you would expect that Our Lady of Introspection, a Georgetown poli sci grad (and newly self-described reporter) would be all over the elections, while Our Lady of Passive Aggression, a Houston native, would be talking about the devastation to her hometown, and Our Lady of Wretched Rebounds, an alumnus of Wall Street, would be angling to cover the demise of a venerable investment bank.
Alas, and of course, you would be wrong. The only cameras and stories they are interested in are the ones that bold face their names. I can’t scroll through all of it, but here’s what the most persistent attention whores of the current web 2.0 generation are crowing about:
Our Lady Of Passive Aggression (Mary):
- She took a ton of crappy iPhone pictures of runway shows, adding commentary such as “this is a bold new look,” and slagged on other designers in only the way a girl who designed a fanny pack for the wrist could do. The only people who should take fashion advice from this girl are the same people who think Our Lady of Introspection is a competent dating columnist.
- But! The return of Leven. You kind of have to love the body language here. I wonder if Leven explained to Mary the business of having an actual television deal. I am thinking not. Welcome back, Leven. Mind the social climbing sister if you can.
Our Lady of Wretched Rebounds (Meghan):
- What does this veteran of Wall Street have to say about the current crisis? “it’s hard to comprehend what all this means for the financial market. UGH!!!!! ” That’s deep, yo. You can see where she earned the money to buy herself a condo.
Our Lady of Introspection (JA):
- Christ, there was seriously nothing there. The requisite pictues of her pursing her lips like a dog’s ass, dropping names like most folks drop bills on drinks, and generally being manic about whatever photoshoot she is doing for a magazine you have never heard of.
- All I have is this: she now considers herself a journalist. One without any education or insight about the difference between editorial and sales.
- You know what’s funny? No one wants to advertise openly on the site. Maybe the girls get paid for all of their ‘recommendations,’ but no company wants to align themselves openly with them.
- Oh, and while I am at it? Yeah, there was never an inked Bravo deal, as evidenced by the fact that Bravo’s team has been trying to figure out how to deal with a pathological liar. At least, according to over a half dozen of my tipsters. Confidential to JA: A first look deal that you are self-producing does not a reality show make. Particularly when the test audiences come back with “utterly unlikable.” God, you must be so overworked.
