Gold Stars for Jersey Gaga!

She was born in Jersey! Gaga, I knew there was a reason I felt you on a soul level! Stefani Joanne Agelina Germanotta may have been born and bred in New York, but The Lady Gaga was born in Parsippany, New Jersey.

Stefani pre-Gaga with Jersey native and music producer Rob Fusari. Click the pic to read the article.

Labor and delivery for the Gaga persona was provided by music producer Rob Fusari, who even gave the Lady her name. This excites me for many reasons, but mainly because I'm so over people hearing I'm from Jersey and immediately beginning to call my Snooki (I love you Shnickizz, but I aint you). Maybe now they'll think of Gaga instead. I'd rather that.

Ms. Gaga got some serious gold star words of praise in the review for her live New York shows in the Times yesterday and they linked to a past photo feature of her year in fashion. The pics made me fall a little more in love with her yet again. Ever since I saw her cry on Oprah about how much she loves her Little Monsters, I've been heartwarmed by her image whenever it pops up in pop culture.



I love with all of my heart that she is celebrating the freak in all of us, and she's not doing it in a way that leverages the outcasts for shock value alone.

She has a heart, a brain, and an endless creative drive, and a hell of a work ethic (did you see that video up there?). Jersey done something right! Go Gaga, go!

Ah, to be a Jersey Girl.

I know this has made the rounds on the internets, but it is not to be missed. So, if you haven't seen this clip of Ruthless Film's 1994 documentary on Wildwood, NJ, you haven't yet lived.



How amazing are those girls and their hair? Their nails? Their violent tales of crazy?! I used to go on summer vacations there. I can almost smell the heady scent of hairsrpray, fried dough, and sandy cigarette butts. Oh, Jersey, how I love you!

Cheap Thrill: Map? Scarf? Both.

When I was a little girl I would dress up to cross the bridge or tunnel from Jersey to New York City. I had to look my best for it, and every single time I emerged from the darkness of a tunnel or descended from the heights of a bridge and came into this amazing city I would get goosebumps. I've loved this concrete jungle circus and all of it's wild craziness my whole life. Maps of the city make me happy, I can get lost in them forever, watching the lines of the blocks intersect and the downtown streets crisscross something crazy. That's why I'm a lovin' the New York handkerchief I found at Muji the other day. It's a map for my neck, or my head, or my pocket. I can look at it all the time. I can consult it when I feel lost or sad. It's $10. It's great.