At a couple of recent events, publicists asked me to walk the red carpet, and I got to go to the other side of the rope and experience a reasonable facsimile of the feeling of stardom for a change.
While you’re chortling over how low-wattage those events must have been, ha ha, let me keep going and say that as intoxicating as red carpet walking can be, it’s definitely a trip to the DARK side.
You’re blinded by bulbs and the photographers are screaming your name, somehow desperate to get you to meet the gaze of their camera. (“Over here! Look this way for a second! Michael Michael!”). It’s a heady feeling and you want it to last forever, so you cock your head this way and that, trying to please all the marvelous little paparazzi before going on to be photographed some more at the actual event!
But while I loved the whole trip like candy, I deplored it too because I realized that this kind of rush feeds into an unfillable addiction for so many starlets, and the second they become yesterday’s potatoes, no one is screaming their name anymore and they turn into fill-in-the-name-of-has-been-in-a-mental-home.
It’s all so bloody awful, superficial, and illogical–and yet I’d gladly do it again!