If an award existed for the most continuously annoying girl on this earth; it would currently be sitting on Miley Cyrus’s mantelpiece. Now don’t get me wrong, I’m all for freedom of self expression, and I’m not one to judge women on their outfit choices; just the other night I went out in bikini bottoms and a crop top… But come on, there must be a point when we stop and say ‘hey, swinging from a ball stark naked through choice is bloody odd.’
Personally, I didn’t like Miley from day one: the poor singing, blonde wigs and somewhat confusing accent. However, I tolerated her, and after she gave up on the whole Hannah Montanna stint I began to come around. All of a sudden she was on red carpets rocking couture and looking great. ‘You know what;’ I thought, ‘maybe I was wrong about this one.’ She seemed to have a lot of things I wanted; her hair, these wondrous waves of cascading silk. Her fiancé, Liam Hemsworth , an absolute dream. I concluded she was great, and subconsciously removed her from my celebrity hate list. Around this time a lot of things started happening, resulting in me (and quite possibly half of the world’s population) hating her.
It all started with the cutting of the hair, I grimaced as the pictures emerged. ‘Why,’ I whispered to myself, head shaking ‘why did you do that Miley.’ It appeared to be a downward struggle from then on, every image I came across included less clothes and more erratic facial expressions. I think I can speak for everyone when I question whether or not her tongue has ever actually seen the inside of her mouth. The media had a baby, everywhere I turned there were pictures of Miley in netting and nipple, hurting my eyes. News of her splitting with Liam only seemed to fuel her insanity. Slowly but surely, the once considered cute, all American girl had morphed into what appeared to be a professional prostitute.
From then on there was no stopping her, from the half naked photo shoot with Terry Richardson (tongue out and hand on crotch), to witnessing her ‘twerkin’ with a female dwarf. It was bizarre, why were people allowing this madness to continue? I often pondered the thoughts of her parents and thanked my lucky stars that I wasn’t her father.
Of course I have missed out the fatal VMA performance – amusingly terrible is the only way I can describe it. It’s been discussed so often that it is just plain boring now. The real turning point for me, however, was her interview with Alan Carr. I was expecting the black PVC trousers; I was expecting the foam finger and rouge tongue. What I was not expecting, were her outrageous levels of arrogance. ‘People can say what they want about me, but at the end of the day they are still talking about me. My performance has been the most talked about VMA performance of all time. Two weeks later people are still writing about me on the internet…’ As I watched and listened to distressing levels of conceit, it suddenly occurred to me that she was right. Every magazine I picked up, every article, they all included her! Was it negative attention? Yes. But at the end of the day, any attention is attention, right?
While we sit here commenting on her Instagram photos and YouTube videos, as well as writing blogs about her we are fuelling the fire. She doesn’t care what a random 21 year old student has to say about her pointy tongue and poor dancing skills. She is busy getting paid to dance around, hardly clothed, whilst attempting to sing upsetting music. It was this realisation that somehow resulted in what I can only describe as a mild epiphany. Did I hate Miley Cyrus? Sort of. Did I respect her? Yes. She may be a highly annoying attention seeking weirdo, but whatever she is doing is working. Last month her album ‘Bangerz’ earned the years largest sales week for a solo woman, selling over 270,000 copies. I regrettably listened to most of the album, only to be left scared and confused, wondering why Nelly is still in the music industry. Now don’t get me wrong, I would not consider myself to be her new number 1 fan; just the other day I overheard people talking about her. ‘God I know.’ I chimed in, ‘did you seeee her nails and those thigh highs, what is she doing with her life?’ But whenever I hear about her, or see her in magazines; secretly, the smallest part of me can’t help but feel like Miley has utterly smashed it.