An Open Letter to Lindsay Lohan

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Dear Lindsay,

Long-time fan, first time writer.

I want to begin by telling you: I wish you’d wear a bra more often. I know, I know– they are restricting and at times, just plain uncomfortable, but as a woman you must just commit to putting one on every day for at least 2 hours.

In 1998 I saw Disney’s remake of  “ The Parent Trap” and knew two things: Dennis Quaid was an extremely attractive man and you, little girl, were talented. Like, talented.

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I didn’t see you again until you killed it in “Freaky Friday,” but also realized that if anyone was going to play Jamie Lee Curtis playing a mom, playing a daughter– it was you. You had the raspy voice of a sailor who had long been smoking and eating tuna out of a can in the bottom of a boat somewhere. You were uniquely you with your red hair and freckles. You were a star and were bound to break out of the shadow of your mother’s made up days as a Rockette.

In 2004 I was 20 and becoming borderline obsessed with Tina Fey. This was a little before the Internet was completely full of information on people and YouTube was barely available. I saw “Mean Girls” in theaters roughly 16 times (maybe only three), but knew that this movie was going to live on for generations to come.

If Cady Heron was from Africa, I wanted to be from Africa. I was dangerously close to pushing everyone I knew in front of a bus. This was the movie that changed my life and motivated me to write and laugh and not be ashamed of having the answers to so many questions. All of this is a different letter to a different person, but I tell you all of these things to let you know– I’ve wanted you to succeed for a long time.

Li-Lo, remember when you tried to become a pop star? I illegally downloaded a few of your songs and I didn’t hate them. You weren’t just capitalizing on your movie-career-success, you were building a brand and going after what you wanted. Where did that girl go?

Where is Lindsay Lohan?

Lindsay, I want you to “do you” and if that means I have to buy an entire album of your music, I will. If I have to read 4,000 word articles about you in the New York Times, I will. But, I can’t support your excuses for your behavior any longer. It’s time to get it together, girl. Only you can fix you. Chris Martin didn’t write “Fix You” about you on any level, but put it on and pretend he did! Cady Heron is in there somewhere– the limit does not exist! Lindsay, girl, I love you and I want what’s best for you. Quit ho-ing around and making excuses. Take on some responsibility and get out there and be the “artist” your Twitter bio says you are. I believe in you.

Your loyal fan,

-lc

Image source: PR Photos/ Lee Roth

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