Happy Monday! Though weekends are — for obvious reasons — always pretty awesome, this past one was bumped up a notch or two by the absolutely side-splittingly hilarious Sunday Styles profile of Snooki by New York Times fashion critic extraordinaire, Cathy Horyn. Step by methodical step, Horyn rips Snooki to metaphorical shreds. Here’s a rundown of Horyn’s 9 most underminey moments.
Let’s start it off with a bang, just like Horyn did.
FLAKE, cow, loser, slut, idiot, airhead, trash, penguin, creep, moron, midget, freak, Oompa-Loompa, nobody. It’s another day in the kitchen of Andy Polizzi… father of Nicole Polizzi, the 4-foot-9-inch Snooki… and words cannot hurt him. Sticks and stones! After a season of the hit reality show about a bunch of Italian-Americans sharing a beach house, Andy is used to the terrible stuff that people say about his little girl.
She then moves on to highlight the obvious — you know, just in case you weren’t aware.
She’s short, drawing our attention like a berserk windup toy.
So, what exactly is Snooki’s appeal?
That Snooki is not conventionally attractive — “A spray-painted Chihuahua,” Mike (The Situation) said when he first saw her — has a lot to do with why she is the breakout member of the cast.
Let’s expand on that.
She is busty and short-waisted with small legs; sort of like a turnip turned on its tip. There is the weird tan, but the pièce de résistance of Snookiness is the half-doughnut-shaped pouf on top of her head.
With a blank look, she shrugged. “Me, I like the pouf. I’m still going to rock it.
Enough with descriptors. What’s Snooki really like?
But trying to hold a conversation with Snooki is a little like getting down on your hands and knees with a child. You have to come down to her level, and sometimes you almost think you need to bribe her with a piece of candy to coax her to be more responsive. She is really only responsive to her own immediate needs and desires. She is not self-centered, but she is used to acting out and getting away with it.
Remember, Snooki is 23.
At the same time, she doesn’t exhibit normal levels of self-control for a woman her age.
But wait, why exactly are we reading about her? Who knows! Snooki doesn’t even read!
This still doesn’t address Snooki’s strange appeal. And part of the problem is that she can’t explain it herself. She simply isn’t capable of serious introspection. She told me she has read only two books in her life, “Twilight” and “Dear John.”
And finally, to close the show, Horyn compares Snooki to an unstable gas and reminds you that you really shouldn’t feel bad for the Snookmeister. She probably won’t even read this profile.
With the help of her managers, Snooki is trying to spin her image into Snooki-theme products and maybe a book, which undoubtedly she will never read, and naturally she would like to have her own reality show. But like a rare, unstable gas, she is not likely to last much beyond the moment, or to extend her effect to another medium like film. As Professor Thompson said, “Give her a script and you’ve taken away the very thing she’s good at: being herself.”
Snooki’s Time [NYT]