Sick to death of and infuriated by the outspoken and often malicious criticism of her wardrobe by the fashion police, Whoopi Goldberg gave it right back to them in her position as co-host of ABC’s “The View.”
In the vernacular of the street, and the AOL article, Goldberg b-slapped her clothing critics and gave them a pattern for how they should think of her, and it isn't to judge her by her clothing.
Known for being outspoken herself, and having the enviable View’s powerful and popular bully pulpit from which to speak, among the many things Goldberg had to say:
“I am myself, I've always been myself and you don't judge me by what I wear, you judge me by what I say."
Goldberg’s fighting words and withering comments were directed at “TV Guide” writer Ingela Ratledge, who Goldberg dubbed an “anonymous b----” and Stacy London, co-host of TV’s “What Not to Wear.”
When Goldberg began her tirade she said:
"I have a little bone to pick with TV Guide Magazine, particularly a woman called Ingela Ratledge," who wrote that Goldberg goes on television "looking like you're ready to make a run to Costco."
Of course, with that Ratledge insulted every woman who shops at Costco, but surely there are women who have enough good taste to find some perfectly respectable outfits there.
Inexpensive, off-the-rack doesn’t automatically translate to tacky.
Even grossly expensive clothing can look like schlock. Ever notice what some of the super rich, high-end shoppers and teen idols like Britney Spears and Paris Hilton wear? Tacky to the max and sometimes underwareless, and we know they can afford panties, even the briefest of bikinis.
Continuing to take aim at Ratledge, Goldberg added:
"My style, who I am, it’s not about my clothing. If I came in a burlap bag, I would still be Whoopi Goldberg and I've always been me so you can kiss my ass."
Polishing off Ratledge, Goldberg used the rest of her ammunition to go after London, who has taken exception to Goldberg‘s love of wearing oversized and casual apparel that London said “makes it hard to take her seriously.
Right on, Whoop! You tell her. As long as your clothes are clean and your hair looks freshly washed, I can take many things you say seriously, just as I can take seriously anything said by Albert Einstein, who was roundly teased for his wildly unmanaged hair that looked like it had been teased by a frantic, mad beautician.
Always looking like he's just emerged from a wind tunnel, we didn’t see him go to the corner barbershop to have his untamed mane put in its place, and he was every bit as brilliant in spite of it. Or who knows…maybe because of it.
In her last salvo directed at London, Goldberg said:
"Tracy, honey, Stacy, whatever your name is, I don't need you to take me seriously. I am myself, I've always been myself and you don't judge me by what I wear, you judge me by what I say."
Okay, there isn’t one of us who hasn’t taken a shot at what someone else is wearing, and when you are in the public eye as Whoopi is, you become the target for all kinds of arrows of criticism to be slung at you.
Rather than remaining silent, Whoopi took aim and shot back.
I don’t know anything about Ratledge. Never heard of her before, but the first three letters of her last name might be a clue.
Although Ratledge is a complete unknown to me, I am familiar with London.
Stacy, in this woman’s opinion you have no business criticizing anyone until you take a good look in the mirror yourself.
You go on television every day wearing clothes that are too tight, too youthful, and your hair is too long for a woman who is in the beginning stages of old bathood. Keep renewing the color, but cut it or wear it up.
That doesn’t mean you have to prowl New York’s “schmata district” and dredge up a ghastly supply of old lady housecoats; it means you should do what you tell all the objects of your derision who come on your show to do: Dress your age is your mantra.
I also find it impossible to believe that all the women who go on “What Not to Wear” actually, really and truly toss all their old clothes into a garbage can thoughtfully provided by the stage crew, even if they are given five grand to replace their wardrobes. That appears to be pure stagecraft.
I don’t care who you are or how much money you make, everyone -- woman or man -- needs a supply of grunge clothes. Those thing we throw on to make a quick dash to the store or gas station, go out in the garden to get grubby and one with nature, take out the trash or paint the kid’s room.
Some people have comfort food; I have comfort duds, and heaven help the person who tried to take away my hefty supply of grungies, some of which are eons old and holey than wholly.
That goes for my shoes, too!
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