There have been a few things lately that have happened across 'popular culture' which make me think I am becoming a traditional 'grumpy old woman'. Not that I consider myself old.
The first is what I can see is going to be the obsession with the impending arrival of Prince William and Kate, the Duchess of Cambridge, along with their infant son, George. I am not one of those people who has anything against the Royal Family. The Queen has been an iconic figure and, by all accounts, is a good person. But I am one of those people who has long not seen the relevance of the British Royal Family to Australia.
The fact that they have reinvented themselves to the point that Australian support for a Republic has declined says much about our penchant for 'celebrity'. Good luck to them. They don't do drugs. They don't get blind drunk and king hit people at random. They're good, earnest young parents doing their best and, like all young people in the same situation, I wish them health and happiness.
But I don't want anyone as my king and queen.
Regrettably, it is three Australian women who have made me really cranky. They're big names in our world. Miranda Kerr, Nicole Kidman and Kylie Minogue.
I am not sure which planet Miranda Kerr is on but it's not the same as me. Why would she want to tell a magazine (admittedly, a men's magazine) that she isn't getting enough sex, she's not toned and she's a member of the old 'mile high club' (which, by the way, is so 1970s). No wonder Orlando Bloom hot-footed it out of the marriage.
Nicole Kidman was once the embodiment of Australian style and elegance. Now she's getting photographed in Jimmy Choo shoes with no underpants on. That's okay - but she felt compelled to tell the world about it. One, I am not sure who cares. And two, why would you tell everyone?
Then there's Kylie. Our national songstress. I saw her latest video clip in which she is apparently having a good old time with a medicine ball. Seriously. Am I supposed to let my 14-year-old granddaughter watch this? Or is it for my 42-year-old son-in-law? Or maybe my 67-year-old husband?
I've thought about why all this makes me 'cranky'.
It's because here are three talented women who don't have enough confidence in their talent to keep themselves relevant other than through 'sexing it up'.
I am not sure if this is a reflection on them, and where they are in their heads (if at all) and their life experiences, or whether it's a reflection on our short-term, frivolous celebrity culture. From their perspective, they may just be "feeding the chooks".
But whatever the reason, please don't hold these women to be 'role models' for young Australians. They're not. They are celebrities who are beautiful (genes, not talent), and who can act and sing (talent).
The role models should be women like the many that have been featured here on occasions - for example, women in science, Clare Sultmann, sportswoman Ellyse Perry, young Australian of the Year Marita Cheng, Dr Connie Wong - and many others. We should be giving kudos to organisations like Westpac Bank under the direction of Gail Kelly, who last week announced a $100 million scholarship program for young Australians.
I know I'm not the first to bemoan our celebrity culture; and some celebrities do a lot of good for the world.
But unless we, as women, mothers, grandmothers, godmothers, aunts and sisters, start eschewing it rather than pandering to it, women like Miranda, Nicole and Kylie will continue to give us what they think we want.
IT'S NOT WHAT I WANT. Not for me, not for my children, not for my grandchildren.
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