Lady Gaga released her new music video, Telephone recently and all hell broke loose.
Oh, it’s so sexist, foamed one female reviewer.
We’ve come a long way baby, but you’re taking us back to the Dark Ages, bleated another.
Lesbian kisses and studded bikinis do not good female role models make, was a third retort.
I watched the video to see what the fuss was about. And then I watched it again because I liked it. I found it smart and sexy. Full of cinematic references and designed with all the House of Gaga trademarks of ingenuity, humour and irreverence. Lady Gaga divides opinion like Moses the Red Sea but to all the humourless, feminist-masquerading journalists with their poised talons, I say:
It is possible to wear a bikini and still have a brain you know.
Lady Gaga is a performance art installation come to life. She is Alice in Wonderland grown up and on acid. At a time where pop means American Idol and X-factor producing bland forgettables, someone who can write catchy pop tunes, sing, dance and look like a moving art exhibit is a breath of fresh air.
As is another lady whose name starts with the letter G. After all these years, I finally know what I want to be when I grow up. I want to be Granny OGrimm. Click here to see why.
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