I swore that I would not read one word about the wedding, nor look at any of the pictures. I was sick of the whole fawning cycle of press coverage for their ginned-up events sold to the highest bidder, sick of the fact that “stars” who are famous for being jackasses, or merely for having sizable asses, could lead the news again.
But then, I came upon the Page Six “spy version” of the wedding, by “Anonymous.” It’s what I like to call the “headless statue in golden toilet” version. (After the New York Post’s most famous headline: “Headless Body in Topless Bar.”) And I was hooked. Really, every delicious morsel is more outrageously crazy, wasteful, and deluded than even a talented modern-day satirist could have predicted.
The Huffington Post got into a huff and claimed it couldn’t possibly be true, since the couple had a wedding planner. But, based on Kanye’s previous tendencies and behavior, I believe every monomaniacal, G-d-complex-inspired detail. After all, these two are not exactly known for their senses of irony, history, modesty, or self-reflection, let alone humor.
It’s not yeazy being Yeezus, and that goes for the new Mrs. Yeezus, too.
But before there was this palace on the hill in Florence, there was Versailles for the rehearsal dinner. (I guess it wasn’t considered fancy enough for the wedding itself.) The irony of being in that palace, with its famed Hall of Mirrors, and the ghosts of that guy named Louis who wasn’t a Vuitton, plus Marie Antoinette, with her penchant for fancy clothes and fake hair, and that “let ‘em eat cake”-y attitude (not to mention getting her head chopped off at the guillotine and all), perhaps eluded them.
Kanye was given to making epic speeches throughout the weekend, but it was at the dinner at Versailles that he referred to Kim as the "ideal celebrity… the ideal art." Known to appreciate his own art heavily, he also gushed, “Kim’s way more beautiful than I am talented.”
Let’s keep that piece of “arte” in mind, as we move on to the nuptials at the Forti di Belvedere, an ancient stronghold built at the highest point of the city to defend Florence from, um, invaders.
According to the Post, “Four days before the wedding [Kimye] ordered 30 life-size nudes to be made from black marble. The marble workers worked through the night to cut enough blocks, but 10 of them fell apart, another 10 were damaged in transit and of the remaining 10, four were missing their heads…”
I totally believe this, as the life-sized naked women were designed by Vanessa Beecroft, an Italian performance artist who has worked with Kanye before. She’s known for staging performances involving armies of mostly nude women, standing motionless and unapproachable, usually in high heels and in regimented formations, while being viewed.
The fact that the statues ended up headless -- from the stress of being carved too quickly and then damaged in transit -- is a detail you can’t make up. The Post further reported that “Kanye came to the venue two hours before the wedding…and ordered the marble nudes moved out farther away from the dinner tables.”
So that when the guests got there, they saw whole crews of forklift operators rushing around, moving these headless statues.
Then there was the bride, whose fashion style Kanye has made over to accommodate his own (her Givenchy Haute Couture gown by Riccardo Tisci reportedly cost $500,000). Before the wedding, they spent their time in Paris working out and shopping together, with Kanye reportedly telling Kim what to try on. She seemed happy to go along. Since giving birth to North, she has seemed obsessed with losing the weight and keeping her body perfect. And she has tweeted the selfies to prove it.
Her face looks tweaked (as in amended). In photos, she smiles with her mouth closed, in a modified duck pose. (Due to the injections?) That’s all the better to become silent, and communicate only through photos on her Twitter feed.
Yes, Kanye is a perfect Pygmalion, and he brags about her face and every part of his bride’s body as if he sculpted her. (Note of Freudian creepiness: his beloved mother died at age 58 from complications after extensive plastic surgery.)
He is also Narcissus, making big announcements of his love for Kim, which are merely reflections of his amour for himself.
The topper is his wedding gift to his bride, another “you can’t make this up” item: a portrait of Kim titled “Perfect Bitch.” It shows her from the rear, almost naked. (She’s wearing a simple G-string and Louboutins.) It’s a nice addition to his Christmas gift to Kim: a Hermes Birkin bag on which artist George Condo painted images of dark-haired, enormous-breasted, naked women.
I’m not the first to speculate this can’t end well. It’s a losing proposition for any woman to be valued for her appearance, as art directed, crafted, and sculpted by her husband, above everything else. It’s tremendously stressful to keep up. A person could lose her head.