From How to be a Woman by Caitlin Moran (review to come next week):
“‘Even though you wear very little clothing,’ I said slightly primly, gesturing to [Lady] Gaga’s bra and thong, ‘you’re not doing all this as a… prick-tease, are you?’
“‘No!’ Gaga replied, with a big, drunken beam. ‘It’s not what straight men masturbate over when they’re at home watching pornography. It’s not for them. It’s for… us.’
“And she gestured around the nightclub, filled to the brim with biker-boy lesbians and drag queens.
“Because Gaga is not there to be fucked. You don’t penetrate Gaga. In common with much of pop’s history, an particularly its women—she’s not singing these songs in order to get laid, or give the impression she wants to. She wishes to disrupt, and disturb: sunglasses made burning cigarettes, beds bursting into flame[s], dresses made of raw meat, calipers made of platinum, Gaga being water-boarded in a bathtub—eyes dilated with CGI so that she looks like her own manga cartoon. Her iconography is disconcerting, and disarranged what we are used to seeing.” [p. 260]
Image via Roccerka.