Do you remember Jessica Simpson? That delightfully-dizzy blonde who ruled MTV in an era long ago and far away? (You know: before Twitter, the Jonas Brothers, Octomom and So You Think the Plus Eight Stars are Rock of Love in The Hills?) There was a time when I was–yes, I think I’m brave enough to admit it now– obsessed with Jessica Simpson. Sure, I poked fun at her. I ruled the Nick and Jessica Breakup Watch (RIP!) with an iron fist. I rolled my eyes in annoyance at her twee observations. But I loved her all the same. Truly. She felt like family–that sister or aunt who frustrates you to no end, but when your boyfriend makes fun of her, you snap.
Improbably, over the past 4 years, Jess has become the underdog. I can’t put my finger on it, but there’s something simultaneously heartbreaking and inspirational to me about Jessica Simpson. I root for her. I wish her well. I feel–in the lamest possibly way–that we will someday be friends. Despite being beautiful and having an air of the Homecoming Queen, she’s at her best when she’s dorky, relatable, stripped bare. Glamorous Jess? No. Jess being propelled through the water and faceplanting into a dolphin’s belly? Mais, oui.
I suspect I’m probably alone in my bizarre Jess-cheerleading. That’s okay. I’m waiting for her Britney-style comeback (make it happen!) and look forward to the day when we’re downing margaritas on my deck together and I say, “So…I have a confession. I used to keep this blog called Nick and Jessica Breakup Watch…”
Stranger things have happened, right?
Do you remember Jessica Simpson? That delightfully-dizzy blonde who ruled MTV in an era long ago and far away? (You know: before Twitter, the Jonas Brothers, Octomom and So You Think the Plus Eight Stars are Rock of Love in The Hills?) There was a time when I was–yes, I think I’m brave enough to admit it now– obsessed with Jessica Simpson. Sure, I poked fun at her. I ruled the Nick and Jessica Breakup Watch (RIP!) with an iron fist. I rolled my eyes in annoyance at her twee observations. But I loved her all the same. Truly. She felt like family–that sister or aunt who frustrates you to no end, but when your boyfriend makes fun of her, you snap.
Improbably, over the past 4 years, Jess has become the underdog. I can’t put my finger on it, but there’s something simultaneously heartbreaking and inspirational to me about Jessica Simpson. I root for her. I wish her well. I feel–in the lamest possibly way–that we will someday be friends. Despite being beautiful and having an air of the Homecoming Queen, she’s at her best when she’s dorky, relatable, stripped bare. Glamorous Jess? No. Jess being propelled through the water and faceplanting into a dolphin’s belly? Mais, oui.
I suspect I’m probably alone in my bizarre Jess-cheerleading. That’s okay. I’m waiting for her Britney-style comeback (make it happen!) and look forward to the day when we’re downing margaritas on my deck together and I say, “So…I have a confession. I used to keep this blog called Nick and Jessica Breakup Watch…”
Stranger things have happened, right?