Jennifer Lopez has breakfast in the nude according to the funky side of the Sydney Morning Herald website. In the third most accessed SMH article since midnight AEST, the extraordinary talent who the New York Daily News has ungallantly dubbed “the broad-beamed Bronx bombshell” is quoted thus:
“The weirdest thing about me is that I like to walk around naked. I grew up walking around naked in my house. My mom was like that, and my sisters.
“Now I’ll be sitting at the breakfast table and everyone’s dressed except me. All the people around me are either girls or gay, so it doesn’t matter.”
This is most definitely not the weirdest thing about her. Much weirder is the whole idea that any advantage could accrue to anyone – let alone J-Lo – from publicly confiding the fact that she likes to eat her muesli doing a Nanette the Nudist number, surrounded by a whole bunch of fully clothed homosexual men and best girlfriends. What do they talk about? Euripidean Sophistry?
The article, obviously lifted by some terminally bored Fairfax graveyard shift surfer, goes on to reveal that other celebrities also like to get nude. Colin Farrell, the Irish actor, likes to dance around nude at home – to 80’s disco. 80’s disco? That’s OK then. Tom Hanks offered this bit of information overload;
“usually when I’m in a hotel room, I strip down naked and walk around on the patio,” he says. “That’s as close as I can get to a feeling of anonymity and power.” Right. I for one am eternally grateful that Tom chose not to explain the not-immediately-obvious synergy between anonymity, power and shucking your undies.
This current ‘nudity is hot’ thing – I blame the War and all those old boomer peacechicks indulging in a little retro Woodstock nostalgia – is a bit puzzling. I can sort of see the protest angle – vague (and wobbly with cellulite) though it is -but what’s this rush to confess to serious celebrity ‘I get nude’ weirdness? Could it be, that in an age when traditional celeb bad behaviour – drugs, booze etc – can only be mentioned in the same breath as ’12 step programs’ and the ‘Betty Ford Clinic’, that openly like, goin’ nude, is the last defiant gasp of artistic outlawry? God. Give me Ozzy Osbourne any day.