Dear Jen,
Do you mind if I call you Jen? You’re so candid in all of your interviews that calling you Jennifer feels too formal, but I can’t use the name Jenny without thinking of “Jenny from the Block” (thanks a lot J.Lo). If you want my honest opinion, I think Jenna is probably the moniker that suits you the best, but that’s kind of a niche nickname, so I’m sticking with Jen. I guess it really doesn’t matter, because this letter has nothing to do with your name or what you like to be called, but I was hoping to capture your attention so you would really hear what I’m about to say to you:
It is not normal for a 23-year-old woman to fall down so much.
As a fellow 23-year-old, albeit one who has not won an Oscar or the hearts of countless devoted fans, I speak from my own life experience when I say I don’t trip that often (literally or in an Urban Dictionary context). Last year in early spring, I will admit I took a tumble thanks to a short, unexpected metal pole sticking out of the ground. Prior to that embarrassing gaffe, it’s been many years since I’ve wiped out. I find it a little alarming that you’ve fallen down, publicly, no less, once every year (that we know of) starting with your epic Oscars fall in 2013.
I could justify falling down that often if you were rollerblading, participating in a three-legged race, or even wading through a pile of dirty laundry and getting your ankle dangerously wrapped in a rogue pants leg, but on both occasions that you’ve fallen, it’s taken place on everyday terrain: a set of stairs and solid, carpeted ground.
Some people are just naturally clumsy, but to fall down at two consecutive Academy Awards? Only a person with a compulsive gambling problem would bet on that happening. The thing about klutzery is that it’s spontaneous. When it comes to embarrassing debacles that could befall you at the Oscars, the odds of falling two years in a row are 125:1–that means you had a greater probability of having an accident in your dress, confusing Pharrell for an African American Eddie Munster on the red carpet, and being overheard asking, “Why the fuck is Lady Gaga at the Oscars?” than falling down again, yet you managed to beat the odds.
Are you OK? Are you getting enough potassium? Did somebody steal your bones?
Last year the excitement of winning your very first Oscar for Best Actress could have accounted for your shaky knees on those steps up to the stage, but what was your excuse this year? You may have gotten the Golden Globe for Best Supporting Actress, but we all knew this was Lupita’s moment.
Allegedly, when you got out of your limo this year there was an orange cone that tripped you up. I have a serious question: how is a woman who trains like a machine for the Hunger Games movies unable to step around/jump over/shoot arrows at an orange cone that gets in her way? Where’s that Katniss mojo?
Are these falls in your Dior contract? Do Dior’s gowns look best on women who are falling down? I mean, this faux advertisement from your 2013 Oscars fall is pretty incredible:
As refreshing as it would be to have a talented, A-list actress who literally cannot walk in heels thrown in the mix, I can’t help but wonder if these “falls” have both been staged. I mean, when you’re a legitimately convincing actress, how hard it can be to act embarrassed and humbled after fake tripping? Everyone knows us Americans love watching people fall down, and when they get up and laugh with us about it? Shit, that’s better than a Big Mac for us. Even more evidence for the phony fall argument: how did this year’s latest tumble on the red carpet fit into Ellen’s opening monologue so seamlessly? She’s good (especially when she tells Liza Minnelli she looks like a man), but she’s not that good.
Let’s look at some other 23-year-old women staying on their feet at the Oscars:
It can be done!
Look, we get it, Jen(na), you’ve dethroned that nasty Anne Hathaway and cemented yourself as America’s new darling with your undeniable talent and timely sound bytes, but you can stop falling down now, girlfriend. You’ve arrived! None of us have any doubts that if you stumble, you could totally laugh it off and joke about it immediately (unlike, say, Anne Hathaway).
You can do this, Jen. Just take it one step at a time.
Best,
Katie
P.S. Next year, instead of Neil Lane jewels, may I suggest a Life Alert pendant.
