Dear Tyra,

I decided to write this letter after a friend of mine asked me how I felt about you. The answer was “I love her, but I find her completely ridiculous.”

Love is a strong word, but it is true. I love you, Tyra, because you are a black female entrepreneur doing her thing, and because, even though you speak very publicly, if a little vaguely, about your life, you have an unassailable and squeaky-clean public persona, a feat a Disney Channel contract star can barely accomplish these days. I love you because you seem genuinely interested in the empowerment of young girls of all colors. Because of your new campaign, the “Belly Brigade,” there are now at least a few girls out there who feel a little better about their bodies. Because you speak openly, (but a little patronizingly, you are an ex-supermodel) about your various physical flaws. Because of America’s Next Top Model, aka “My Wednesday Crack.” Because I have a feeling that building your career and having a fun personal life are mutually exclusive things for you, and I get the impression that you are possibly quite lonely. Actually, that’s not a reason I love you, it’s a reason I feel for you. But those emotions are connected, aren’t they?

And then there’s the dark side. In the background, Tyra, all the time, there is that ridiculousness. It tempers my love for you, I must admit. Why are you so contradictory on ANTM? I know this is a reality show we’re talking about here, but you’ve got a nation of young girls in your thrall, and, thus, a huge amount of responsibility. It’s a responsibility I’m almost positive you understand but must forget about sometimes.

Why else would you encourage Puerto Rican contestant Jaslene to “act her culture,” even though in another breathe you will tell us that modeling is all about being a blank slate? Why, as explanation, did you say to her (and all of America), “I sit up here and snap my fingers and say, ‘Girl, you lookin’ hoochie! Because that’s my culture?’” No, Tyra, you don’t. And no, viewing public, it isn’t culture. That’s called a stereotype. Just like it would be a stereotype for one of the few Latina contestants to stand before the ANTM judging panel to cha-cha and merengue down the catwalk, trilling her tongue like a young, lithe version of Charo.

And then there was your “Belly Brigade” promotion this week. From behind my computer, I watched your relatively relaxed interview on GMA. So you were a little pose-y, but you seemed genuinely proud of your campaign and you managed to deliver the pertinent information about it without losing your damn mind. Which is exactly what you did on The View a short time later, when you showed everyone your Spanx, then rubbed Rosie O’Donnell’s belly and violently squeezed her breasts while screaming like a banshee. She had to push your hands away. That’s ridiculous, Tyra.

You also explained on The View that a that accused you and Russell Simmons of dining and dashing at the Brooklyn Diner in NYC was false and that the entire thing was Simmons’ fault. Whatever. The important part of the story was that you planned to go straight to the restaurant to settle the bill. You were true to your word. That’s when this happened. People, even celebrities, make mistakes and handle them privately and with dignity. A blatant PR moment, complete with paparazzi, mood-lighting, and a 50 lb lacefront, is not required. Well, in my opinion, a 50 lb lacefront is never required, but I understand (Beyonce, Tyra, and J-Hud) that it is here to stay.

I’m not sure what I want from you, here, Tyra. You have a lot more ridiculousness to go before I give up on you and stop watching your show. I just wish, for once, that the culture of celebrity didn’t make stars forget what it’s like to be real people.

Love,
Lauren

P.S. If it happens to Kerry Washington, I think I’m just going to take to my bed and cry. I don’t want to ever see your Spanx, Kerry. Promise?