Courtney Love, We Don’t Need To Trust You
“I’d like to be trusted again, like I was at one point. I’m not trusted right now. People don’t want to get in trouble. They think that I am probably going to talk about things I shouldn’t talk about, which I do a little bit, but I am really trying to be trusted again.”
But really, did we ever trust her? Ever since she stepped on the scene back in the early ’90s, she’s gone from one unreliable incarnation to the next: crazy wife, drug-addicted musician, unstable widow, starlet, sue-happy nutjob, cuckoo plastic face, mommy dearest, Twitter abuser, Buddhist chanter, and now … fashion icon?
“Fashion people, a self-selecting group of eccentrics and misfits, are pretty much the only ones who are willing to embrace Ms. Love exactly as she is — as a star … by her own design, she is using fashion to undo some of the damage that has been done to her reputation.”
The funny thing is that she comes off just as erratic as ever in the interview. In the first scene, she’s drunk and naked from a combination of “Zoloft and a cocktail.” In the next she is surrounded by racks of designer clothes, a table full of junk food, pill bottles, and cheesy self-help books, saying typically Love-esque sound bites like, “These are my wake up cupcakes, some anti-depressants and a cellphone book. I speak to you as someone who doesn’t want to be perceived as a train wreck.” She calls Russell Simmons to berate him for calling her a crackhead and then talks about the chanting she does. She also expresses her hope that her estranged daughter, Frances Bean Cobain, will come back around if “I let it go.” The story ends with a cray-cray text message to the reporter, “I’m so humiliated. That simply isn’t me. It has been, but I haven’t been such a mess for quite some time. I trust you understand that our hearts can take us all to dark and ill timed places. Warmly, Courtney. xx.”
You can put Chanel lip stick, a Roberto Cavalli gown, and Yves Saint Laurent pumps on a pig, but it’s still a pig. Courtney Love will never change. Unstable is who she is. And that’s OK—we kind of adore her that way. As long as we don’t ever have to be in the same room with her. We don’t need to trust her. We want to watch her talk about and do things she shouldn’t. We want to watch as her heart takes her to dark and ill timed places. That’s her charm. [NY Times]