Martha Stewart's Confidence Game

I'll have what she's having.

Hi friends!

Martha Stewart — 81-year-old cover girl, domestic icon, ex-convict, and chow chow enthusiast — had one of those great internet moments this week when everyone and their mother seemed to be swiping through her Sports Illustrated swimsuit shoot. I think she looked fantastic, if a bit windswept and verging towards camp (we love). I also think the doctor keeping that woman’s skin taut deserves a Nobel Prize in Physics. Though, according to Ms. Martha in this Variety interview that reads like it was delivered by a Martha Inc. programmed chatbot, she has “had absolutely no plastic surgery whatsoever” and that in the two months she was given to get ready for her close-up she simply prepared with pilates three times a week, watched her diet, drank no alcohol, and (my favorite detail) got a spray tan. “And I’m not a hairy person,” said the the whitest woman alive’s chatbot, “but I got a complete body wax.”

Me looking at myself in the little Zoom box

For the record, I love Martha, our hot octogenarian, and think she’s wildly entertaining and talented in the art of reinventing her image. And I (might) believe that she hasn’t had a facelift, but only goddess knows how many lasers, needles, and microneedles have colluded to keep that face up where it is. The rich and famous love to lie through their teeth when it comes to shifting appearances, they tell us they’re just drinking more water, jogging up a hill, feeling so rested that it changed the shape of their nose, thanks so much for asking. Celebrity culture is out of control and 2023 has made me miss Joan Rivers very, very much. Not to bring up Ozempic again this week (fuck it, I’m obsessed!) but you know she’d nail those freshly skinny liars to a red-carpeted cross. I do declare a pardon for Martha, however, whose unparalleled delusional confidence shines through all 17 filters on the Sports Illustrated photos. Honey, I’m buying what she’s selling.

Earlier this year “lucky girl syndrome” was all over TikTok with the simple yet effective concept that living with delusional levels of confidence will get you better results than marinating in a haze of negativity. Dare I say, if Martha is any indication, delusional levels of confidence may also boost collagen production. Self-doubt feels like a relic of earlier times, when we had the luxury of worrying about nonsense. I think we all owe it to ourselves now to do what we want when we can, embrace these final 90 seconds on the doomsday clock and glow with the star power of a famous old rich lady who lives in Connecticut. Martha’s confidence is the old fashioned kind, not rooted in controlling the universe (the universe is spread far too thin these days) or other people’s opinions. It’s a well-honed conviction in her own path and power that is kind of scary, a bit problematic, but impossible to look away from.

Of course, there is a dark side to collective delusion. For most of us, Instagram is already the world’s most powerful compare and despair machine, allowing anyone logged on to concoct a narrative based on what an acquaintance decides to show and tell that day. It’s the nature of self representation, after all, to edit out the bits you don’t want others to see and feature only the best. We’re in a bit of a sticky situation, since showboating is really a cornerstone of the level of delusional confidence we’re after, so we’re going to have to learn how to filter our jealousy as well as our photos. Martha’s confidence game predates social media by decades, but makes such great use of it now. She probably has an assistant upload those thirst traps and never has to see what anyone else posts. Inspiring!

Thanks to Martha, I feel confident enough to share that going forward, I will be feeling myself with the smooth-brained, delusional swagger of Elon Musk rolling his face off at a music festival in Mexico (you’re welcome). These times are wild but today I’m inspired to be wilder. Good luck to us all.

Less Lessons More Blessin’s™️

Liz