An Open Letter To Lana Del Rey
Reblogged from Keltie Colleen
Dear Lana Del Rey,
The reason people either love or hate you is because you are the most popular girl in the high school of life. You are the girl that had Marsha Brady hair. Your locker was in the “good” locker area. You are the girl whose dad had a job where you could have the cool clothes, and got a range rover on your 16th birthday. I was the girl who was wearing my brother’s oversized hoodies and drove my mother’s maroon mini-van with the fake wood panelling. You were the girl that was listening to The Cure and smoking cigarettes in small corners at parties, and eveyone wanted to be in that small corner with you, even though it was full of smoke. You are the girl (insert hot, mysterious, sexy) that I lost all my boy crushes to my entire life. You are the “fucked up in a hot way” Angelina Jolie, to my “going to pilates and smiling” Jennifer Aniston.
I need to set a few things straight. You didn’t invent the hair flower halo. I wore one a year ago, I stole the idea from Audrey Kitching, and she probably stole it from some crazy Japanese fashionista. You also didn’t invent sultry sex rock, Fiona Apple did. You are not the first person to change their name, or the first person to be nervous on stage. You are also not the first person to ever get in the doors of important record labels and executives because your daddy had money. 97% of the daddies in Hollywood have money and love their daughters. My daddy loves me, but is a mechanic. I tried to pay someone 20 bucks once to meet with me, but it didn’t work. (I can only assume the going rate is slightly higher.)
Anyways, I think your songs are neat.
I would like to offer you free movement coaching in my living room anytime you are free.
If you came over, I would make you a cup of tea and I would explain to you that everyone who is “hating” on you is someone just like me, someone who sort of hates themself. Someone who looks in the mirror and is pissed off at everyone else in the world who seem to get the breaks. Someone who wishes they could one day be 1% as cool as you look in the 5 pictures that exist of you on the internet.