Lady GaGa

Born quite plain and dull, Stefani Joanne Angelina Germanotta is now world-famous as Lady GaGa, age 23 (she appears a good deal older). With only two albums and two tours under her belt, pop’s latest blonde obsession has been drawing the inevitable comparisons to Madonna. The similarities are all there: The infectious, if banal, music; The incadescent videos that has secured her her audience; The abrasive fame-seeking; The controversial sexuality; And most importantly, the heavy reliance on artful guises.
But unlike Madonna, GaGa just isn’t sexy. Madonna, whatever her dramatic transformations, was essentially about sex. On the other hand, GaGa’s immaculate conceptions are asexual, curiously genderless: Madonna might have been like a virgin, but GaGa could be a man. In sites such as ladygagaisaman.com, the internet is rife with ‘evidence’ of her alleged real gender. She may writhe with lubricious nubility in her videos but in truth, they smack of the overdressed (and overproduced) sexuality of a transvestite revue, no different than what you can see in glitzy bars on Patpong. To make this point clear, observe: Beyonce in the Video Phone video oozes sex – GaGa, featured in the same video (and styled similarly) – looks like a faded imitation of a real woman. Madonna, untill recently, before she developed those ball-breaking biceps and Men’s Health abs, only wanted to be pretty; She was variously boy-toy, a white geisha, the new Marilyn, and finally, a princess in her manor. Madonna made herself over to incarnate sex, on and off screen, and all her ‘transformations’ underscored her sexual self.
On the other hand, in appearances outside of the digital construct of a video, GaGa is a bit of a gargoyle. Costumed to disturb and to conceal, GaGa draws attention not to her sex, but to her complete artifice – there’s little that is real that you can see: The hair is pure polyester, often obscured by ridiculous cartwheel hats; The face is a mask of makeup, the eyes, erstwhile windows of the soul, hidden by contact lenses, sunglasses, butterfly eyelashes, rhinestone and glitter; The costumes disguise the true contours of her body; The shoes are hoofs. This is designer drag. It’s not meant to be attractive or seductive. It wants you to step back, in admiration or in fear, but certainly not in lust. (In her iconography, GaGa draws heavily from the style of Vogue Italia Fashion Editor Anna Piaggi, more than her cited sources Freddy Mercury and David Bowie.) In these mysterious getups, Poker Face seeks to obscure, even as she steps resolutely into the limelight. Whereas the Material Girl always sought to reveal, to expose, to open her heart, her mouth, and her knees, The Fame Monster giggles and makes cryptic pronouncements, detached, disengaged. Artifice is never sexy, and her irony distances.
Sure GaGa is wacky and fun, but it is heartless fun – a perfect reflection of our times. In the self-absorbed age of Twitter and youtube, anyone can be famous, whether talented or a total fraud: You only need to scream louder, be more outrageous, and you will find an audience. And this new ‘Fame’ is GaGa’s theme. It’s thus fitting that GaGa has become the technology world’s new diva, signed up with Polaroid (as “creative director”) to reinvent the instant film camera – the instant film for the instant star.
GaGa’s appeal lies in her infectious optimism; She’s uplifting in that she makes you want to dress up, buy stuff, colour your hair and party like it’s 1999 – just what you need to escape the distressed world economy, the daily televised natural disasters, virulent diseases, global warming and the grim realities of reality TV. Society’s marginalised love her because she’s a freak, unafraid to make a mockery of herself. It takes courage to be different, to stand out, to be ugly, and GaGa lifts the torch for individualism, and the right to be loved, and watched and adulated no matter how outlandish, or how much a misfit.
GaGa is good for the world economy, in her unabashed fascination for, and her rabid consumption of, all things novel and glittery. She will be known for making over the fashion industry by freeing it from the notion of having to produce ‘sexy’. Fashion can finally move forward from the Britney corset tops and low-slung hot pants, the display of navel, and cleavage front and rear. It means fashion can finally move away from the stasis of the cliched red carpet cling-film spaghetti-strap mermaid gown and the lushly curled hair. And that’s why the fashion industry has embraced her so whole-heartedly – GaGa’s makeovers lead fashion out of those looks pre-approved by gossip rags into creativity and imagination. Gaga is more influential than Anna Wintour at least: Her Bad Romance video, in which she flounces about in Alexander McQueen, has been viewed 30 million times in just over a month, whereas Vogue magazine typically sells about 1.2 million magazines a month.

For the rest of us, GaGa has bestowed on us nothing less than freedom to just be ourselves.

(Written for 8 Days)