Holy crap, is there a teenager on earth more depressing than Taylor Momsen? Earlier this week, not content with parading her emaciated body around, dressed only in underwear and stripper shoes, she got some fans (all female, all young) to get onstage with her while she performed with her (terrible) band the Pretty Reckless -- and take their shirts off. Then she gave one of them a lap dance. There isn't a sigh deep enough or an eyeroll high enough to express how we feel about this.
It's not the fact that a 17-year-old wants to publicly express
herself sexually that's bothering us. It's that we don't think
any of this has to do with Momsen's own burgeoning sexuality. When she
writhes around on stage in hold-ups and bras and fishnets and little
else, it looks nothing like a young woman finding her inner-sexy, but a
lot like a desperate plea for attention and the probable result of
having her body treated like a commodity for most of her life. It's a simplistic, cartoonish representation of female sexuality learned from strippers and the windows of the Hustler Store. There's nothing honest or real about it.
We'd feel a bit sorry for her if she didn't come off like a self-obsessed, self-entitled little princess in every interview we've ever read with her. But make no mistake about it, Taylor Momsen is depressing.
She's depressing because of the air of desperation she carries with her. She's depressing in the same way that any teenage stripper is depressing. She's depressing because, dear god, where the hell are her parents? She's depressing because her band sucks and yet it still does okay because she's the chick from Gossip Girl. She's depressing because not only is she now in a position to objectify herself nearly constantly, she's encouraging her young fans to do the same thing. Yes folks, this is all very depressing. How many more child star cautionary tales do we need, for crying out loud?