Desperate

>> Saturday, September 15, 2007

It's the only word that comes to mind after seeing Nicole Kidman on the new issue of Vanity Fair, which I received today.

Or as Lainey wrote almost two weeks ago:

One of the most gift actresses of her generation – I could not get enough of her in The Hours and this is perhaps one of the reasons why…why it is almost insulting to witness the Freeze, the over-Botox of Nicole Kidman, especially when that face is capable of such enormous range. But behind the frozen fixation is a deep insecurity. Why else would she immobilise her instrument? To the point where critics now watching her films can’t help but be distracted by the stiffness of her forehead?

In the same vein then follows the marriage. And the assurances of togetherness and the sappy love songs and the posing and now…the public disclosure that there was indeed an engagement to another man before meeting Keith Urban, though she stops short of outright naming Lenny Kravitz.

Nicole said, “it just wasn’t right. I wasn’t ready. We weren’t ready.”

How convenient, non?

And while we’re at it… f*ck privacy, right? Especially when you’re now 40 and feeling ancient in age-sensitive Hollywood where the stars keep getting younger and younger. F&ck privacy when you need to appear desirable.

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