Noted attractive person Kim Kardashian is the driving force behind many successful businesses, the star of a hit television show, and the new false god of tens of millions of Instagram followers. This month in Rolling Stone, she is also a “jungle Aphrodite escaped from a forest of big-booty nymphs,” whose “creamy thighs bestride an entire nation.” Her vagina, says Rolling Stone, is one of the few in pop culture “to smell and bleed and pop out babies.” Earthy. Powerful.
Kim—who dressed up as a pair of heaving breasts for the Terry Richardson-shot cover—doesn’t actually say a whole lot over the course of her interview.
“When I go on vacation, I only go to the beach certain times of the day, and lay out by the pool the rest of the time,” because the sun is often too flat, and if someone takes a picture of her, she’ll get caught looking less Kim Kardashian-like than she’d like. “In Miami, I’ll get up and six and swim in the ocean at seven in the morning right before the harsh sun comes up—and the pictures always look amazing.”
“I’m obsessed with contouring,” she says. “My nose is a completely different nose because of contouring.”
“I am so not the type of girl who carries a dog in my purse.”
But Vanessa Grigoriadis, who profiled Kim (or more specifically: who profiled Kim’s profile), has enough material to fill in the gaps between the creamy thighs of Kardashian’s advice on proper beach lighting and sick burns on her fat brother.
“Do I think [Rob] smokes weed, drinks beer, hangs out, and plays video games with his friends all day long? Yes.” Is she sure it’s not more like hookers and meth at the Ritz? “No, no,” she says, laughing a little. “Or he’d be skinny.”
What, you may be wondering as you read the profile, does Kardashian look like? And more importantly, what is her relation to ISIS?
She’s a jungle Aphrodite escaped from a forest of big-booty nymphs, with a mane as thick as a horses’s and as black as volcanic rock. Her eyelashes flutter like teeny-tiny go-go dancers’ fans. Her nails are small, elegant talons, painted a color that manages to be both onyx and the bloodiest red. But it is Kardashian’s body that is the thing, of course, and today, as always, her clothing is so tight it feels transgressive, clinging in particular to that strange, glorious butt, a formerly taboo body part that is now not only an inescapable part of the American erotic but also our best and most welcome distraction from climate change, income inequality and ISIS.
But what does that mean in terms of cultural fault lines?
But in terms of cultural fault lines, sometimes it seems like Kim Kardashian’s creamy thighs bestride an entire nation.
What about Kim Kardashian’s vagina? What is that like?
Women have long asked for fair vagina representation in media, for their vaginas not only to be sexual objects but to smell and bleed and pop out babies, and on their show, Kardashian vaginas do all that and more, which is very different than other pop-culture vaginas.
It’s almost like she’s an attractive human female with a famous husband and a lot of money. If she’s under the wrong lighting, will she not look bad? (Apparently.) If she takes off her clothes, will the internet not break? (No, it won’t.) If she ovulates, will someone not write about it? (Jesus fucking christ.) Would she have started wearing runway fashion if she hadn’t married Kanye West?
“No,” she says, then reconsiders. “Well, you know what? I think it would have taken me a lot longer to figure it out.”
You can read the full profile in Rolling Stone, out now.