Pamela Anderson's bare-faced shtick is an ugly lie... I know this desperate Double D-lister's real beauty secrets, writes PAULA FROELICH
- Paula Froelich is a NewsNation senior story editor, entertainment columnist and New York Times best-selling author
A cooing chorus of oohs and ahhs wafted up from a gawking crowd outside Cipriani Wall Street in lower Manhattan on Monday, as former Baywatch babe Pamela Anderson strutted onto the red carpet.
Anderson – of bouncing bosom and sex-tape fame – has been out promoting her new movie The Last Showgirl. It's about an aged-out Vegas dancer who puts her blush on with a mop and is now coming to grips with the end of her career.
It's already earning this Double D-lister some Oscar-buzz. But it also cuts close to the bone.
For much of the fawning adoration that Anderson is receiving is not for her acting (say what you will about her exuberant amateur film performance) but for her fresh-faced look.
When Pammy steps out these days, she's usually not wearing any (obvious) makeup: no foundation, no lipstick, no rouge.
The bottle-blonde warrior told People Magazine this week that, to her, 'beauty' really means 'being brave and living your dreams. It's never too late.'
A cooing chorus of oohs and ahhs wafted up from a gawking crowd outside Cipriani Wall Street in lower Manhattan on Monday as former Baywatch babe Pamela Anderson strutted onto the red carpet.
Much of the fawning adoration that Anderson is receiving is not for her acting (say what you will about her exuberant amateur film performance) but for her fresh-faced look.
Brave? Sorry, Pam. You're not saving the Amazon.
Let's apply a bit of cleanser, shall we?
This 'natural beauty revolution' is about as organic as 34DDs. (Pam downsized to her original 34Cs in the late 90s but still looks suspiciously perky for a 57-year-old woman with two children.)
Nor is her bare-faced posturing all that trailblazing: Alicia Keys stopped painting her face in 2016. Where are her hosannas?
It's also a darn sight easier to love your naked skin when you have all the time and money to perfect your canvas.
Pam's forehead is as tight as a snare drum and there isn't a hint of that dreaded crepey neck skin that Nora Ephron once wrote so eloquently about in her book, 'I Feel Bad About My Neck'.
Her pencil-thin brows look almost tattooed on, her cheekbones are perfect, her jawline mysteriously firm.
'I'm not trying to be the prettiest girl in the room,' she whined in October. Perhaps not the prettiest, but certainly still the most attention hungry.
And I have an idea of what's really going on here.
Anderson, like almost every other fading Hollywood hottie from perpetually puffy-faced Nicole Kidman to belly-button scandal-scarred Cindy Crawford, has a skincare line to flog.
The tagline of Pammy's 'mindful, minimal' brand Sonsie is straight from Meghan Markle's Montecito mumbo-jumbo handbook: 'Be Sonsie, Be You!'
Mindful and meaningless.
When Pammy steps out these days, she's usually not wearing any (obvious) makeup: no foundation, no lipstick, no rouge. (She is pictured here in 2006).
It's a darn sight easier to love your naked skin when you have all the time and money to perfect your canvas.
Her social media is full of this new age LA babble: all-natural, emerging, vegan, cruelty-free.
'The goal is to realize our own purpose on earth… It goes beyond healthy skin,' Pam tweets.
Translation: Spend your hard-earned paychecks on my gunks and junk and you too will soon look like the kind of gal Tommy Lee would whip the home video camera out for.
To be fair, Anderson is not the only voracious capitalist in the beauty-industrial complex spouting 'body positivity' inanity.
Remember when nearly every female fitness apparel brand claimed that fat was the new skinny black dress and sent rotund models stomping down their runways?
Well, guess what? Fat isn't fabulous.
That's why every larger lady celeb is now secretly shooting up enough Ozempic to inoculate a rhinoceros.
And the same is true of Anderson's bare-faced 'bravery' – it's built on a pack of lies.
The worst part is that she and all the other shameless elixir shills make the rest of us ordinary women, who work 60 hours a week and put on a bit of mascara and a lip so as not to resemble an extra in 'The Walking Dead', feel inferior.
There's nothing wrong with glamming up to go out. And perhaps if everyone had access to the best plastic surgeons and dermatologists in the world, they too could feel free to go fresh-faced.
Anderson is not a plain-faced Joan of Arc. And fakery isn't empowerment. It's faux feminism.
So, slap on some lipstick – and spare me the shlock, Pam.
