December 18, 2006
From Justin to Fuggy
Remember the first season of American Idol, when we all rooted for Kelly Clarkson over Paula Abdul's poofy-haired and bepenised favorite, Justin Guarini? And we were all really happy that she won, because, among other things, we were kind of tired of the show ramming shots of Justin's dad down our throats? Yes, he was a police chief, and even though he didn't raise Justin, he's here now and they're fine and that's great and oh, look, there he is again, crying, and there he is AGAIN, and look, AGAIN, and OH MY GOD, WE GET IT.
Let me refresh your memory, in case those heady days are too far behind you and you never happened to catch the cinematic abortion that is From Justin To Kelly (which, if you didn't, don't, but you ARE missing out on her dancing around in a skirt made of ties).
Here is Justin Guarini.
His curly mop was his signature -- well, that, and singing some longing love song or other (I think it was "Get Here") directly at Paula, causing her to break into a sweat of potent yearning -- and although I never really got swept away by the 'fro, or by him, I appreciated that he had something distinctive going.
And yet, I also never thought I'd miss it if it went away.
This is Justin Guarini during the shooting of some movie called Fast Girl. [I had herewritten that I thought the jackets were the same, but upon actual careful review, they're really not at all the same. My defense: I think the hair addled my brain. And my eyesight.]
I'm not sure if this is a wig, or the result of a chemical straightening process, but I suspect the former. And quite frankly, it scares the bitch out of me. Well, almost. This hair makes him ... wrong, somehow. He evokes Chris Kattan playing Justin Guarini playing a character in a movie. There's an eerie prissyness to his features -- particularly around the eyes -- that I never noticed before. And that manly confidence he's attempting to put into his eyes? With the old hair, it would seem harmless. But this greasy mop makes it all look like he's secretly thinking about harvesting my organs, and for some crazy reason, I'm kind of fond of my heart and my liver and all that other hoo-ha, so I'd be pretty devastated if he tore them from my limp, dead form and ate them with linguini and a nice tomato cream sauce.
Hurry up and finish shooting, Justin, so you can get that thing off your head and help us all regain our innocence.
Posted by Heather at 01:11 PM | Permalink