Wednesday, November 19, 2003
MTV...
is a strange thing. Watching MTV in the mess. I must confess that I never really used to watch MTV much. In Singapore there was just no point, and in the UK MTV's all sleek sexy raunchy stripped-down women gyrating in miniscule outfits; it has its own appeal I guess. But its also a little repetitive.
Sitting down today in the mess filling in two police statements I couldn't help but notice two of them.
The first had Rachel Stevens in it, surprisingly enough, gyrating manically in a miniscule outfit.
Rachel Stevens is one of the few celebrities that does it for me. She has the look that my body, if not my conscious mind craves for. The girl is hot, and according to latest papparrazzi gossip, single and available. Ooh la la, etcetc. Rachel Stevens is a looker, a walking promise of athletic sex hanging from assorted nasty instruments from the ceiling, on long, lean legs. But closing my eyes, all I heard was noise.
The second had Dido in it, singing, as she does, fully clothed, striding slowly between scenes. Closing my eyes, the music washed over me, a hauntingly familiar melody coupled with troubled lyrics and the husky warmth of her voice painting a picture of sadness, flooding between, around, and into my senses. Opening them only enhanced it - she holds the camera, and audience bound with level gazes and a slightly furrowed brow, only to cast off into the distance with some melancholy and disinterest.
And oddly enough, Dido appeals to me more than Rachel Stevens does. Slightly sad, very much a thinker, slightly philosophical. No overt sex appeal, not quite the same calibre looks and figure; but singing, for the singing. One of the few MTV girls who keeps her clothes on, and overpowers the watcher - because MTV is meant to be watched, and not (just) listened to - with slow, steady gazes and the strength of her voice.
I could imagine a night with someone like Rachel Stevens.
But I could imagine a lifetime with someone like Dido.
What does that say I wonder?
is a strange thing. Watching MTV in the mess. I must confess that I never really used to watch MTV much. In Singapore there was just no point, and in the UK MTV's all sleek sexy raunchy stripped-down women gyrating in miniscule outfits; it has its own appeal I guess. But its also a little repetitive.
Sitting down today in the mess filling in two police statements I couldn't help but notice two of them.
The first had Rachel Stevens in it, surprisingly enough, gyrating manically in a miniscule outfit.
Rachel Stevens is one of the few celebrities that does it for me. She has the look that my body, if not my conscious mind craves for. The girl is hot, and according to latest papparrazzi gossip, single and available. Ooh la la, etcetc. Rachel Stevens is a looker, a walking promise of athletic sex hanging from assorted nasty instruments from the ceiling, on long, lean legs. But closing my eyes, all I heard was noise.
The second had Dido in it, singing, as she does, fully clothed, striding slowly between scenes. Closing my eyes, the music washed over me, a hauntingly familiar melody coupled with troubled lyrics and the husky warmth of her voice painting a picture of sadness, flooding between, around, and into my senses. Opening them only enhanced it - she holds the camera, and audience bound with level gazes and a slightly furrowed brow, only to cast off into the distance with some melancholy and disinterest.
And oddly enough, Dido appeals to me more than Rachel Stevens does. Slightly sad, very much a thinker, slightly philosophical. No overt sex appeal, not quite the same calibre looks and figure; but singing, for the singing. One of the few MTV girls who keeps her clothes on, and overpowers the watcher - because MTV is meant to be watched, and not (just) listened to - with slow, steady gazes and the strength of her voice.
I could imagine a night with someone like Rachel Stevens.
But I could imagine a lifetime with someone like Dido.
What does that say I wonder?
