Fame is for Fools, by Alexis Schecter

Recently in my journalism class at Manhattanville College we spoke at length about fame—and why it’s pretty much fabricated bullshit. I asked one of my fine students, Alexis Schecter, to express herself in words. Here’s what she gave me …

Fame—a word that has recently been used to the extreme; a word that stands for something everyone and their mothers crave.

Present-day society seems to focus solely on tabloids committed to instructing us on how to live our lives according to the standards of celebrities. In turn, people lose themselves and become a poor copy of what they see and hear in the world of gossip. In order to “be famous” one needs to take action. Women increasingly fall into the grips of the monster we call fame because they crave the seven deadly sins—money, sex, material items, appearance, men, traveling … and did I mention money? Money buys happiness as well as your appearance. If you don’t like your nose make it shorter, straighter and smaller. Sex sells! With your new appearance or face, women can try and perfect themselves and be praised for their efforts by being posted on magazines and mentioned in newspapers.

Also, with money come the material items (“Diamonds are a girl’s best friend”), but no one notices the $0 is you bank account when you have it on your finger. And, last but not least, the man! We cant live with them, but we sure cant live without them. There’s always talk about the celebs having sex scandals. Look at Sandra Bullock, for instance—beautiful and successful woman … husband cheated on her. Your man will make you famous regardless of who he’s having sex with and so the fame cycle never ends. Or if you’re unable to have a Grade-A cheating man you can always live vicariously through your child like they do on TV. Mothers who dress up their daughters like pixies so they can win pageants and win prize money, trophies and coupons for spray on tans for their little darlings.

Maybe in the future these tunnel-vision-driven mothers of crazed fame will realize that their oompa loompa painted dolls for daughters can’t put “pretty and perfect” on their college transcripts or even as a reference for a local McDonalds.