As we already know, Katy Perry is probably the most demanding person in show business (if by “demanding” I mean “prefers chopped vegetables” and by “show business” I mean “the circus we call pop culture”). But while she’s done some questionable things lately, as well as worn some questionable holiday outfits, I am not sure what led GQ to publish Amy Wallace‘s bizarre profile of the singer.
1. Let’s start with the first line, shall we?
It smells like weed in here. Weed and doughnuts.
I feel like a Colorado police station joke is in order, but no. I’ll just leave this here.
2. She’s basically Joffrey Baratheon, but a cartoon.
Katy Perry sits atop a tall director’s chair surrounded by the many, many members of her team … who hover and hand Perry things without her asking: Breath mints. Her phone. Eye drops for her enormous anime eyes.
This is where I would insert a GIF of Strong Bad’s anime episode, but I cannot find one. If you have spotted one, please notify me immediately in order to complete my life.
3. From robot to…pseudo-sister wife?
Now, on prime-time television, she’s about to twist her image one more quarter turn, transforming from America’s audacious, outrageous cleavage-bot into its selfless, doting concubine.
Please, let there someday be a robot made of cleavage. Just…metal boobs. Walking around on little feet like Marcel the Shell.
4. When it doubt, blame it on Rihanna.
Now the smell of a different type of flora—Cannabis sativa—wafts in from the hallway…. Ah, okay, Rihanna’s suite is twenty feet away.
5. …Or not.
“Everyone is high!” Perry declares, giggling.
6. Presented without comment:
…that sugar-sweet doughnut reek? Perry takes responsibility. The doughnuts are gone—the victims, it seems, of a fried-dough orgy that ended before I arrived.
7. Is she a dolphin?
She starts warming up her voice: “Eee, eee, eee, eee, EEE, eee, eee, eee, eee!”
8. Or perhaps she is my sink draining itself.
“Gwa, gwa, gwa, gwa, GWAH,” Perry projects
9. Japan is the equivalent of cat videos on YouTube.
She decided on the geisha act, she says, because she loves spectacle, and she loves Japan (she calls it “the capital of adorableness”), and she thinks the theme fits the song she’s about to sing, “Unconditionally,” which she wrote for Mayer the last time they broke up. (They’re together again now.)
10. Well, we’re all just trying desperately to find our way, right?
“I lay on my back one night and looked down at my feet, and I prayed to God. I said, ‘God, will you please let me have boobs so big that I can’t see my feet when I’m lying down?’ ” At age 11, “God answered my prayers,” she says, glancing south. “I had no clue they would fall into my armpits eventually.”
I do actually recall desperately hoping that somehow, someday, I would wake up with Ginger Spice’s boobs on my body as a kid. While I don’t have a chest so large I can’t see my feet, the praying seemed to work (i.e. genetics and weight gain panned out pretty effectively for my tits).
11. Not gonna lie, I’m pretty impressed with her music for the occasion.
She lost her virginity at 16 in the front seat of a Volvo sedan while listening to Jeff Buckley’s album Grace.
12. Wait, what?
[A manager] encouraged her to move to L.A., where they made an album that was never released because, she was told, it didn’t sound enough like Avril Lavigne.
Bahahahahahahahahahaha. Okay, I’m done.
No, no I’m not done. I may not love everything Katy Perry sings, but “Firework” is infinitely better than…this.
“I look up into the stars and I imagine: How self-important are we to think that we are the only life-form? I mean, if my relationship with Obama gets any better, I’m going to ask him that question. It just hasn’t been appropriate yet.”
I forget sometimes that Beyonce and Jay Z are not the only celebrities Obama apparently hangs out with.
Okay, okay–while these were really odd comments to make and weird quotes to quote, I am actually loving a great deal of this piece. I mean, most profiles of female stars seem to just talk about how elegant and effortless and carefree they are. While I’m not sure how I feel about doughnut orgies, I think I will take them over profiles filled to the brim with words only used to describe women any day.
To read Wallace’s profile of Perry in its weird, excellent entirety, check it out on GQ.