Just admit it already!!!

Ashlee Simpson in Harper’s Bazaar looking wonderful, if not a little plastic and totally unremarkable. But that’s what happens when you change your nose so that you blend in with everyone else. Generically pretty is the new Ashlee Simpson. Well done.

Thing is, I like the nose. That she looks good is undeniable. That she won’t f*cking admit it is the problem. That she not only won’t admit but that she keeps insisting she is a confident young woman with healthy self esteem is even more insulting.

Because the girl is clearly a walking contradiction, refusing to confirm or deny the much-ballyhooed rhinoplasty, allowing the magazine to say only that she “changed her appearance”, which could include anything from a haircut to a face transplant.

“I loved how I looked. I’m not an insecure person, nor was I before. It’s a personal choice. I believe if somebody chooses to do plastic surgery it (should be) for yourself, not for anyone else.”

See now these are the kinds of statements that make it impossible for me to watch Oprah. Because as soon as someone says “I did it for me!” or “I had to LOVE ME FIRST!” or “I chose the path, I took my destiny in my own hands”, every member of the MiniVan Majority starts weeping in agreement, amazed at the groundbreaking profundity of such a statement, rushing the aisles and pumping their fists, nodding their heads, ripping off their bras, losing their sh-t over empty words that cloak the original issue.

Because if she loved how she looked, why look like something else? And if it was her decision, if she was proud of it, if she did it for herself, why not own it? Why not stand up and say – yeah so what bitches, I got a new nose, I like it, so step off my jock! Why hide behind a publicist and cleverly worded phrases if “insecurity” is not her problem?

And as for it being a personal decision?


This is a girl who has already talked about her battle with anorexia – what’s more personal than that? This is a girl who conveniently pimps her own personality whenever there’s an album to sell…what’s more personal than that?

But don’t you wish, just once, that whoever conducts these interviews would just call them on their bullsh-t? Because if this had been me, if Ashlee Simpson sat across from me and said with a straight face that she “loved how (she) looked” and was “not an insecure person”, I would like to think that I would have snorted. Snorted, guffawed, and then said:

Bitch… please.