How to Be a Pop Star Without Looking Like a Total Idiot

In I am... on April 28, 2011 at 3:28 pm

This is how pose for a sexy photoshoot if you're born after 1994

Okay so I definitely took an extended holiday from the blog.

I do that sometimes.

I could lie and say it’s because the art of blogging requires true inspiration and cannot be forced (especially where there are easter egg hunts to be had).

But really, what the hell is the art of blogging? Who says that anyway?

No, the real reason is simply that I’ve been sort of busy with something else.

Singing pop music.

I know, it sounds pretty delusional. Almost as delusional as the art of blogging.

If you don’t know me personally (even better, that means I have readers other than my friends), you won’t yet be aware that MessyNessy is also an enthusiastic singer. That’s right, I’ve got pipes and I’m not afraid to use them.

Well actually, I am.

You see, there’s a slight problem with my God-given talent… yes, I believe I’ve been ordained with this bad boy…

…I find trying to catch a break in the music industry entails spending a lot of time, well, looking like a total idiot.

Yup, hazard of the trade unfortunately. Like the fashion industry, it can be pretty damn ridiculous at times.

Living in London, I dabbled, you could say, in the U.K music industry here and there, never really knowing what I was doing and pretty much fell flat on my face. In fact, the whole thing is one big cringe-worthy box of memories I’d rather flush down the loo.

Every now and then at parties, someone manages to pull up one of my old music videos on Youtube and I have to find a a piece of furniture to hide behind until it’s over.

Did I learn something? Absolutely.

Embarrassing flashbacks? Even when I sleep.

But here I am, new girl in Paris, blissfully settling into the life of a blogger, when a friend (of a friend who knows a guy who knows a guy whose dad works for this dude in a big French record company bla bla bla) goes and checks my old Myspace page (yes, Myspace still exists by some miracle).

Just as I was minding my own business (and spending slightly too much time checking up on my blog stats), at peace with the idea of singing to my children one day and leaving it at that thank you very much– the universe decides that apparently I’m not yet done with pop music.

There’s some annoying little part of my brain that keeps dragging me back in. Yeah I’m kinda like Al Pacino from the Godfather in that way, “Everytime I think I’m out, they pull me back in.”


Anyhoo, I agree to go to the studio to meet some French producers and musicians. They’re really nice, I even pretend I’m a big fan of David Guetta (him being French and all).

We make a song. It’s good, I’m glad to have found an extra curricular hobby.

Later, we make a second. It’s better, I start to get the feeling ‘extra curricular’ is not the goal here.

We make a third and a fourth. Words like ‘meetings’ and ‘contracts’ start popping up all over the place.

Out of curiosity, I begin listening to the French radio. Sweet Jesus, French pop music is bad. The door is wide open.

Friends want to hear a song. Before they’ve listened to the second verse, they’re asking if they can be in the music video.

They may be half joking but the expectation is already there; to see me lip-synching badly, maybe surrounded by back-up dancers obviously cast to further humiliate me, topped off by background scenery which prompts the question, “How the hell did she end up on a desert highway in hot pants and six inch heels?”.

(Seriously, why are music video plots just so damn stupid?)

Now wait just a minute. Who said anything about a music video? Head in hands.

Long gone are the days of gritty live performances in music halls (I like to pretend I knew what it was like in the 60s), it’s now all about the music videos, the promotional photo shoots– Oh god the photo shoots…

The wind machine gets me everytime

Here comes that flashback of a photo shoot with my former band and a photographer who made me pose with a bright orange feather boa fixed around my head.

Again, purely to humiliate me.

Right. So here I am. Approaching the prospect of a yet another stab at pop music but there’s only one thing on my mind.

How I can do this without looking like a total idiot.

I’ve decided to come up with a few guide rules for when it comes to chasing dreams, because a lot of us do it. Similar to my blogger’s code of honor, again, you may find that this sounds pretty relevant for life in general…

1. Remember why you are doing it…

(…to afford an apartment with a large balcony on the Ile Saint Louis in Paris.)

This would suit me just fine..

  • As much as you may be passionate and love what you do, always treat it as a job. And if that job isn’t getting you anywhere, have enough sense to quit while you’re ahead. Be realistic, keep your expectations in check, have good judgement and hell yes, be a bit cynical. Be your own Simon Cowell.
  • Doing anything for the fame and the glory is just naive. Value the relationships you have with the people you already know, they are your true supporters and fans no matter what career you choose.

2. Maintain control of your image at all times

( If you don’t want to wear an up-the-butt leotard, hey, don’t do it! )

  • Don’t do or endorse anything you don’t feel comfortable with.
  • Be yourself, not what you think you should be to fit the mold.

and if you do happen to make it…

3. Get out before you turn Crazy

Exhibit A: Watch Lady Gaga in this documentary clip, go from ‘pop star’ to ‘crazy lady’, very quickly


Exhibit B: John “I love Hitler” Galliano. Do we really need to see the clip again?

  • No matter what heights you reach in your chosen career, keep your feet on earth, here with us.
So, now you know what MessyNessy has been up to as of late (and the seriously difficult dilemnas she’s been facing), instead of furiously blogging away on a countdown to the Royal Wedding.
I thought sharing this musical adventure with you might increase a potential fan base bring us closer.
You may be wondering why I’m making pop music. As in popular music. As in music that generates the most revenue.
Look, if I become a French super duper big megastar tomorrow, I promise to take MessyNessyChic with me all the way to the very top right after I buy my pimped out new pad.
I’ll even interview Celine Dion. Oh wait, she’s Canadian. But, I’m sure there’ll be some kind of benefits from this thing.
Ok in all seriousness, I’m very cosy right where I am.
Brainwashing you with my blog.
But if I happen to get anywhere with this music stuff, you’ll be the first to know 🙂
P.S. I saw this lady in a cafe the other day and I just had to get it off my chest…
Okay, I feel better.


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