I’m currently not in Paris, but man, do I wish I was. This yearning is one that plenty of Americans experience regularly, though I’ve never really fallen prey to the seductress that is Paree. On my theoretical list of places to visit as soon as (monetarily) possible, Paris falls far behind other locales like Stockholm and Barcelona. [Sidenote: I actually have been to Paris before, though I was eight and my memories are relegated to an array of elaborate toy stores.] My lack of interest could be a resistance to the clichéd nature of lusting after Paris like it’s the be-all-and-end-all of planet earth, or a result of the fact that I’ve traveled to other areas of France a lot with my family and they’ve taken up all potential “Franco-loving” real estate in my heart. Who knows, and, really, who cares?
I don’t. But I do care a lot about Paris and its surrounding areas this weekend—THE wedding weekend of our time, in which all things good and holy (for those who agree with Sir Kanye’s assertion that he is a god) and branded with that infamous K unite legitimately for all the world to speculate about, and a few very lucky ones to see.
This extravaganza pales in comparison to the Royal Wedding, which was too steeped in tradition and scented with a time long gone for me to get riled up about. Two boring, stereotypically attractive, wealthy white kids marrying in a church? Eh, I’ll pass. But Kanye West—he of inappropriately timed comments, a give-no-fucks-ever attitude, and a talent for general existence that is unmatched in pop culture—settling down? That would be worthy of our eyeballs in and of itself, but it’s even more so because he is marrying the Kim of all Kims—another figure who produces a strong reaction in the general public, with society’s collective insecurities and emotions constantly projected onto her innocent and wildly successful figure. It often seems that people rally against her simply because she bucked the system better than the rest of us. She’s a business…woman, and he’s a business…man. One plus one on that front equals a lot more than two, a force to be reckoned with like Beyoncé and Jay-Z, though with less audacity to put on a pretend-perfect front.
Nah, these two don’t think they’re perfect, but they do believe life is worth trying to perfect. And can you really blame them? If you have the means, why not treat every aspect of your life with a curatorial eye? I certainly would if I could, and I don’t see any reason to knock them just because the majority of us can’t. They are our own version of royalty—a handful of our dreams and longed-for indulgences come to life in their regular routine of largesse.
And yet, they’re human, which they show in ways that dynamic duos like Bey and Jay have done everything in their power to conceal. Kanye unleashes angrily in public, or Kim cries over her weight…passing moments that reveal that, though they may seemingly have it all, they’re still flawed and not robotic enough to fully hide it. Often we mock them for what we deem their pseudo-problems, wagging our fingers like they don’t have a right to complain simply because their asses are worth something in cash—but, really, their behavior is quite refreshing. They are simply playing that lifelong tug of war between confidence and insecurity. And while a lot of celebrities try to hide beneath some never-not-perky façade, they drop their masks often.
In their striving for that elusive Hollywoodian perfection, they at least allow us to see that they’re not perfect, and I respect them all the more for it.