Madame Tussauds
Dear Madame Tussauds,
Good afternoon, or possibly good morning. I’m not sure when you’ll be reading this. I recently toured your world-famous wax museum in Times Squares, and I am writing to lodge a complaint.
For the most part, your wax museum is amazing, and its lifelike depictions of celebrities are unmatched. Your Justin Bieber, your Jennifer Lopez, your Robert Pattinson---they all look just exactly as primped and vacant as their real-life counterparts. I mean, my goodness, you can almost smell the desperate, ever-diminishing creativity coming off the Lady Gaga statue.
Historical figures, too. I have never personally met President Roosevelt, but if his sculpture is anywhere near as accurate as the booty on your Kim Kardashian … well, bravo.
That said, I must take umbrage [word of the day!] with your wax sculpture of supermodel/television hostess/national treasure Tyra Banks.
First off, where is the smizing? I don’t see any smizing. Do you even know what smizing is? Apparently not, because you failed to include Tyra Banks’ patented smize. It means “to smile with one’s eyes.” It’s her signature look, yet somehow you fell short of capturing it.
Also, the pose? Standard red carpet hand-on-hip? You clearly have never seen Tyra demonstrating her innovative “broken doll” poses to the contestants on her reality television show America’s Next Top Model. If you had, there is no possible way you would have chosen such a bland posture.
Not to say Tyra looks any less amazing on the red carpet than in a fashion shoot. Her hand-on-hip pose is still very impressive.
But, aside from these problems with the outward appearance of your Tyra wax figure, I feel you’ve failed to capture her true essence, her je ne sais quoi.
Where is the life? The charisma? Where are the millions of fans Tyra has helped with her daily talk show? You couldn’t have sculpted a few adoring women sitting at her feet, gazing up in admiration? The least you could have shown was a mound of fan mail thanking Tyra for her cellulite tips or her bravery in taking out her weave that one time.
What about Harvard paraphernalia? Tyra is attending Harvard Business School classes, which you would have known if you had watched the CBS Sunday Morning interview with her. Yet, I don’t see any mention of Harvard Business School in your sculpture. I’m sure Harvard Business School would be happy to mail you a Harvard branded t-shirt or tote bag, especially because this is certainly the real deal and not at all some sort of promotional stunt on the part of Harvard University. Why, I’ve never heard of them courting celebrity students before.
In summation, please create a new Tyra Banks statue from scratch. This time, with more attention to the true star power of its subject. Give it the kind of careful detail you’d give a head of state or an OT Level 3 scientologist. Thank you.
Sincerely,
Tyra Banks™
Catching Up
Hey, Buddy. It's been awhile since we've talked, so I thought I'd give you a call. You know, just to catch up. Also, I wanted to complain about my boss.
So, how've you been? How's Mark? ... Yeah, that's great. Anyway, my boss has been such a bitch lately. I'm really trying to put up with her shit, but I don't know how much more I can take—
No no, I do want to hear about things with you and Mark. Sorry I interrupted. Please, go on. Uh huh ... Uh huh. Absolutely. That sounds harsh. Mark sounds a lot like my boss, Gail. She’s passive-aggressive too.
In fact, last week, we were on this conference call together, and she kept tapping her coffee cup. As if it was my fault the coffee machine was broken…
Right, right. I know. We were talking about your marriage. But, I was saying I could empathize with you, because my boss has a lot of the same problems Mark has. Like, she can’t figure out the shared calendar, so she makes everyone email—
Okay, yeah. Yeah. If you have to get off the phone, I understand.
Anyway, I’m glad things are getting better with you and Mark. What? They’re not? Oh, that’s rough. Listen, can I call you after this big strategy meeting we’re having tomorrow? I’ll probably need to vent about Gail.
Okay, bye.