My Weekend Crush

Clearly, I’ve had Adele on the brain the last 24 hours. And it seems so cliché to say you love Adele, because everyone loves Adele. Women, men, vertebrates, invertebrates, inanimate objects, imaginary friends. It’s impossible to not be awed by her voice. It’s criminal not to be moved by her emotions. Also that chin dimple? I fucking love that chin dimple. I really think Adele is one of the most beautiful women in music – not just her spectacular face, not just her spunky personality, not just her sublime voice (though sweet merciful Zeus, her voice), but her sane attitude about her art and self. She’s so refreshingly herself, so very outside of the corporate expectations of what a successful singer looks like in this day and age.

As Adele said herself in her Rolling Stone cover story earlier this year:

“My life is full of drama, and I don’t have time to worry about something as petty as what I look like… I don’t like going to the gym. I like eating fine foods and drinking nice wine. Even if I had a really good figure, I don’t think I’d get my tits and ass out for no one. I love seeing Lady Gaga’s boobs and bum. I love seeing Katy Perry’s boobs and bum. Love it. But that’s not what my music is about. I don’t make music for eyes, I make music for ears.”

Adele is gorgeous, and in a way that reminds you talent just needs a stage and a spotlight to shine. There’s nothing wrong with letting it all hang out, so to speak. But we also need to see it’s possible without the tits and ass. Talent is just talents. It doesn’t need any additional adornment to transport you someplace at once outside yourself and intensely personal. Also, there is no better therapy than singing at top volume in the car to Adele. “Someone Like You” in particular has saved me thousands in shrink fees. Happy weekend, all.