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Most movies just have soundtracks.
Eat, Pray, Love has a soundtrack, a home furnishings line, a clothing line, a jewelry line, a tour package that follows author Elizabeth Gilbert’s itinerary across Italy, India, and Indonesia, a fragrance, a tea, and, for its piece de marketing resistance, an unprecedented three-day selling orgy on the Home Shopping Network, beginning Aug. 6, a week before the movie opens, of “more than 400 items across a variety of categories, including beauty, electronics, home decor, travel, cooking, jewelry, accessories, and ready-to-wear,” including, as Variety reported this week, a line of lip glosses from Lancome, for whom Julia Roberts, star of the movie, is a spokesperson.
Many of the book and movie’s licensees seem to also have a personal stake in Gilbert’s story, er, “journey,” and are more than happy to share when promoting their product:
“When I read Eat Pray Love, I immediately identified with the story, as many aspects of Elizabeth Gilbert’s journey were synchronous with my own personal odyssey. Because of the immediate connection I felt to the story, as well as its emphasis on the culture, philosophy, and, in particular, alluring mystique of the East, I was able to create a collection that was striking, exotic, and timeless, and organic to the journey in the book and forthcoming film.”–Sue Wong, designer of the Eat Pray Love clothing collection
Filed under: Eat Pray Love, Eat Pray Love HSN Tie-In, Eat Pray Love Licensing, Eat Pray Love Merchandise, Elizabeth Gilbert, India, Julia Roberts, Liz Gilbert, Merchandising, Product Tie-Ins, Shopping, Shopping Is Better Than Sex, Spiritual Journeys, Tie-Ins, Vague Spirituality, Venal Shit, White People In Asia
The ink is barely dry on la divorce, but it looks like somebody has already moved on…
Overheard in the courtroom Thursday:
“I am an idealistic, naive, passionate, truth-seeking, spiritually motivated artist, unschooled in the science of law and finance,” Wesley Snipes said, in a prepared apology.
Wesley was sentenced to 3 years in prison yesterday for not filing tax returns from 1999-2001. 3 years is the maximum sentence, and even for someone
as annoying as Wesley who defied the law, it seems a little stiff.
Prayer Hands, don’t fail him now!
Weird story coming out of my homeland, the Lone Star State: a rattlesnake farmer was busted this week for selling hooch consisting of 10-inch snakes soaked in cheap vodka.
Bob Popplewell, the 63 year-old moonshiner known as “Bayou Bob,” defended his illegal product as an “ancient Asian elixir” and maintained he was simply “catering to some members of the Asian community who like to consume certain animal and insect parts.”
Popplewell added that, to his customers, “It’s almost a spiritual thing.”
Oh sure, Bayou Bob. Blame it on us. And throw in a few vague references to old customs, Eastern medicine, and spirituality. Why didn’t you drop the words “inscrutable” and “Ancient Chinese Secret” while you were at it?
(Psst, Bob…what’s that stuff taste like? Do you ship to California? Can I pay with a Mastercard?–Jen)
Dear Wesley Snipes,
Dude. We get it.
You famously lobbied for an Asian actress (Ming-Na) to play your wife in One Night Stand, then life imitated art and you married Korean painter Nikki Park, and you’ve earned a million colored belts in multiple martial-arts disciplines.
Alright already. You love us. You really love us. Apparently you spend so much time in your wife’s native Korea that you consider it your second home (we just hope you’re paying your taxes there unlike, uh, nevermind). But please don’t take your outsized love for our peeps and cultures to this level, it’s really beneath you:
You do understand that you’re going to trial for fraud, right Wesley?
that bracelet gives me hives,
I still want to love you, but you’re making things very difficult.
we get it you’re a spiritual person sheesh,
I’m not sure you realize this, but you’ve been my boyfriend for the last 23 years. I loved you from the moment you gave that impassioned speech in the police station in Nightmare on Elm Street. I saw your potential then, even through an itchy blanket I was using to shield myself from Freddie Krueger. I BELIEVED IN YOU. You were THE ONE.
I found you again during your 2-second cameo as a translator in Platoon. How many people even know you were in that movie? I not only loved you then, but I was in love with you. Okay, maybe, in hindsight, I was just grateful that you played the only character sympathetic to the plight of those poor Vietnamese peasants, PEOPLE LIKE ME, the ones whose village your platoon burned to the ground. But gratitude, love…quelle difference at that age?
And then there was Jump Street. Ah, Jump Street. I’m sure you don’t want to relive those three short seasons when you felt like a piece-o’-meat sellout on the best high school/crimefighting drama of all time, but I do. I was willing to overlook the fact that the four of you looked way too old for high school (I knew, because I was in high school at the time), just for the opportunity to be hypnotized once a week by that glorious downturned mouth and that impossibly lofty hair of yours.
I forgave you your other relationships. I suffered through Winona “The Retarded Girl from Lucas? What?!” Ryder, Kate “This is Why Girls Have Eating Disorders” Moss, and even Vanessa “Who the Fuck Is She and Why Does She Always Get to Wear Chanel Haute Couture?” Paradis, your current mistress. I embraced your pretension, your idol-worship of Hunter S. Thompson, your move to the South of France, and the nebulous spiritual persona you cultivated on your long journey to be taken seriously.
And the world, with which I begrudgingly share you, takes you seriously now. Even after you’ve made three movies based on a ride at Disneyland. I predict that you are about 4 years away from an Oscar. A FREAKIN’ OSCAR. Which is why I just don’t understand this:
I’m not sure I can forgive this.
I thought we were Forever,