2013-05-24T14:57:48-04:00 Anne T. Donahue http://www.huffingtonpost.ca/author/index.php?author=anne-t-donahue Copyright 2008, HuffingtonPost.com, Inc. HuffingtonPost Blogger Feed for Anne T. Donahue Good old fashioned elbow grease. tag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2012:/theblog// 2013-05-13T10:01:27-04:00 2013-05-16T00:48:37-04:00

Anne T. Donahue http://www.huffingtonpost.com/anne-t-donahue/ fan attacks, peculiar prayer breaks, self-centered comments, the missing shirts and the bus busts, chaos seems to follow our young friend Justin Bieber around.

Which got us thinking about other musicians who started so young. Countless pop and rock acts have transitioned from teen sensations to capable adults, but what can we learn from those evolutions?

Here's what we think each have to teach, and what artists like Justin Bieber could learn from them.

]]> tag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2012:/theblog// 2013-04-04T10:42:39-04:00 2013-04-05T16:02:42-04:00

Anne T. Donahue http://www.huffingtonpost.com/anne-t-donahue/
But before that happened, we managed to juxtapose Matthew Weiner's closing song choices with last season's overarching theme. Did they factor into the big picture? Or were songs like "16 Going on 17" throwaway picks that meant something only in a very specific context?

We listened intently, watched even more so, and treated ourselves to all behind-the-scenes featurettes the Internet provided us. Here's how we felt each song factored in, and what we think you can expect from season six.



So what can we expect for season 6?

We know only two things for sure:

1) Elle King's "Playing For Keeps" is being featured in TV spots.

2) Lily Allen's "Everything's Just Wonderful" is also being featured in TV spots.

While King's track deals with a fall from grace, Allen's is an irreverent commentary on society ("We've all gone mental") as well as one's tendency toward denial ("I'm having the time of my life"). Is this is a take on the social climate of the late 1960s, or simply reflective of each character's double life? (Their phantom, if you'd like to get technical.)

Either way, we can be sure of... nothing. Weiner is notoriously tight-lipped on series developments, so let's hope that "You Only Live Twice" at least sets the tone for two versions of Don Draper again living as one — though this time, successfully.]]> tag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2012:/theblog// 2013-04-01T09:55:56-04:00 2013-04-01T13:25:21-04:00

Anne T. Donahue http://www.huffingtonpost.com/anne-t-donahue/
Fortunately, there’s an upside: lists such as these, which serve to remind us that screaming “April Fools!” after scarring someone indefinitely barely counts as entertainment, especially compared to, say, the amusing amalgam of comedy and music.

Though this crossover is hardly new, over the last few years we've witnessed the music/comedy artform evolve exponentially. And thanks to the Internet these efforts are more accessible than ever due to these videos' inherently viral nature. After all, Lonely Island's "Lazy Sunday" put YouTube on the map.

So rather than fake headlines about Justin Bieber — which could never compete with real headlines about Justin Bieber (seriously, did you read the latest thing about his monkey?!?) — we're using April Fools to celebrate what's actually funny, from Aimee Mann cleaning houses on "Portlandia" and Blake Shelton clucking folk on "Jimmy Fallon" to the music/comedy mashups of Sarah Silverman, Lonely Island and 'Weird' Al. So enjoy or we'll saran wrap your toilet seat.

]]> tag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2012:/theblog// 2013-03-21T16:28:02-04:00 2013-03-21T17:22:09-04:00

Anne T. Donahue http://www.huffingtonpost.com/anne-t-donahue/
Late night — and TV in general — has been the launching pad for countless singers and bands, and now that we live in an era where no pop cultural is ever thrown away, we decided to dig though the online landfills to find the first TV performances by acts who are now larger than life, from Lady Gaga's reality TV debut, to Justin Timberlake's ignoble one, to Kurt Cobain’s hilariously shocking shout-out to Courtney Love on UK TV.

]]> tag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2013:/theblog//3.2915954 2013-03-20T11:40:19-04:00 2013-05-20T05:12:02-04:00

Anne T. Donahue http://www.huffingtonpost.com/anne-t-donahue/
When I was four, a kid in my neighbourhood took me into his room and pulled down my pants (twice) when I went over to play. I went home, told my mom, and she walked right over to that neighbour's house, where she and that kid's mom raised all kinds of hell, and that boy apologized and received a yelling mixed with a grounding mixed with a "WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU" unlike none he had ever known. (Yet in high school he still went around telling everyone about it -- which, frankly, is really fucked up.)

When I was five, a boy named Daniel ran up to me and kissed me in line at school, and I hit him. Later that year, a kid named Dennis reached across the floor and grabbed me when we were working on art. Again, I told my parents, and they, together with my teacher, continued the hell raising of a year before. No "boys will be boys," just pure, "DENNIS, WHAT THE FUCK. NO." The only thing *I* was told was that if someone ever did that again, to tell somebody right away -- and more hell-raising would ensue.

I was in grade 8 when I went to confession and asked a visiting priest -- who I've not seen since -- what constituted as sex and what did not, and he responded with "Now Anne, I had a boner when you asked those questions, so you need to be careful what you say to boys because your words can make them uncomfortable." Gross. But also hilarious, if only for the use of the word "boner."

In grade 12, I worked at a radio station where a DJ asked me repeatedly why girls my age liked giving blow jobs, but not having sex. Where he would come up from behind and start touching my shoulders, and where he'd poke my stomach and say "it's great that girls your size aren't ashamed of showing their bodies." He was going to make me his "assistant" until another DJ (who I will always be grateful to) warned me against it: he had a history of making his "assistants" look up porn, and yes, the station manager knew, but didn't care. So she told me to quit and to be "the little co-op that could." So I did, and I helped get him fired, and my co-op teacher probably had never felt so bad for putting anyone in a position like that, ever. (Even though he had no idea.)

Throughout high school, I can't count how many guys told me not to be a tease, or to dress sexier, and that if I did, good, and also, if we hooked up not to say anything because other girls they were hooking up with would find out, or they were embarrassed. I can't count the number of times I was inappropriately touched or groped or told it was a compliment to be cat-called. And at the time, I believed that it was, because if men didn't want me like that, who would want me for anything?

At 17, a guy I worked with told me he liked my nail polish because it made me "look slutty." The same age, I had 30-year-old guys commenting on my sex life (or lack thereof), and I won't tell you what they said about the other girls and the nicknames they had for any them.

I also won't tell you about friends who were assaulted, or friends who were nearly assaulted, or friends who were shamed into doing stuff they weren't comfortable with, or friends who've been drugged. Even now, I have conversations with friends who worry about what "guys expect" even though I am 100% sure never once did we sign contracts that made us indentured anythings. From what I understand, we're all human beings, and human beings are equals. Except, thanks to rape culture, we're not.

The fact that my first incidence of being sexualized was when I was four tells us something about our society. In my case, I've been lucky to be raised by staunch feminists, but even with my dad and mom's messages of "YOU DO YOU, GIRL," I was still smothered by the rape culture that dictates our social values. It took me until I was 25 to really embrace that I didn't "deserve" anything, and it took me until much more recently to believe it.

Rape culture pits us against each other. But the thing is, some of the most outspoken and disgusted people about the Steubenville trial have been men I look up to and men I am friends with. The women? Well, we're tough broads -- we have to be. The fact that we live under constant threat of sexual harassment/assault/attack gives you a thick skin. Strength and banding together is necessary -- we get it, because we don't have a choice.

Still, men aren't the enemy -- not even close. Even as I write about the years of feeling like shit at the hands of some guys, I know there are so many more who are decent, amazing, wonderful, my future husband (shout-out to Benedict Cumberbatch, if you're reading this). Our friends, our family, our boyfriends/husbands.

No, the enemy is rape culture. Which makes f****rs seem like the majority, and works to excuse those f****rs because "men have no control over themselves." That's unfair, and it's not true, and it gloriously f***ed up. But if it keeps being ingrained into the minds of everyone via the media (here's looking at you, CNN!), women will be stuck explaining how we were not asking for it, and men will be painted as tortured, fallen heroes just following their instincts.

Nope.

We're more than playthings and animals. We have brains, and we have hearts, and we are human beings. Like you, the Steubenville case broke mine, but it also enraged me. And the only way we'll break free from rape culture is if we finally demand it be torn down. Like someone once said to me, "help through your gifts." So help through your gifts. And refuse to bow down to it. And refuse to laugh at it. And refuse to excuse it. And refuse to stay silent when it's happening around you.

We have a chance to not only demand change, but to see it happen. We are seeing it right now. But we are also seeing the f***ers rise up to blame the victim and mourn lost football careers. So even though change is a-brewing, we have a long way to go. But we're tough broads (this includes you, guys who crave change). We can handle it.

This blog originally appeared on the author's website "That's What She Said."

]]> tag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2012:/theblog//3.2175472 2012-11-22T12:37:15-05:00 2013-01-22T05:12:01-05:00

Anne T. Donahue http://www.huffingtonpost.com/anne-t-donahue/
Which is fine. We all love a good "what Taylor Swift's songs are about" tweet, but let's not assume she's not in on them. Swift knows her shtick -- she sings about boys, and about relationships with boys, so let's take a break from our cynicism and acknowledge her volumes of self-awareness.

It takes courage to own up to your act. No, we may not agree with everything she does (case in point: the Madonna/whore juxtaposition of the "You Belong With Me" video, or "Speak Now"'s girl versus girl mentality), but for a 22-year-old to live life in the very public eye and stand up for herself while she figures things out? That's just straight-up brave.

Few of us have our shit together now, let alone in our early 20s. And few of us would have the guts to confront our exes, let alone our famous ones, in songs performed in front of full stadiums. No, it might not be how you or I would handle things, but it's the way Taylor Swift does. And at no point has she ever tried to pretend to be someone she's not.

She's also inclusive. True, her target audience is the teen girl demographic, but at no point does she alienate anyone, or make them feel like her music's not for them. In fact, on the song "22," the only people she lashes out at are hipsters -- and more specifically, the "hip" people who dismiss her music because they're pompous and arrogant. Even 2011's "Mean," isn't about putting anybody down, it's about Taylor rising up and prevailing over bullying. (An awesome message to send to anyone who's ever been bullied, regardless of age, I don't care who you are.)

Ultimately, there's a reason Taylor Swift is popular. Her songs are catchy, they're earnest, and they also articulate feelings most teenage girls can relate to. If you can't relate to her as an adult, that's fine -- you're not part of her target audience. And if you think that Taylor's songs will make girls believe that boys are the only relevant subject matter, then you're not giving enough credit to those girls' parents, or to the girls themselves.

Let's stop underestimating Taylor Swift and her fan base. In terms of her subject matter, most artists sing about love -- even ones who've dated famous people. In time, who knows where her career trajectory will take her? She's 22, and has already mastered her brand to the point of hawking perfume, accessories, and other miscellaneous merchandise that could take up 500 words in themselves. When the Olsen Twins did the same, they were hailed as tycoons; when Taylor Swift does it, we roll our eyes. Why? Because she dated celebrities?

You don't have to like her music. You don't have to stop analyzing. But what I think we can all stop doing is passing judgment on a woman who works very hard, and succeeds accordingly. Or at the very least, respect that at 22 years old, Taylor is a record-breaking artist who has the confidence to be herself.

]]> tag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2012:/theblog//3.1874810 2012-09-11T14:51:12-04:00 2012-11-11T05:12:01-05:00

Anne T. Donahue http://www.huffingtonpost.com/anne-t-donahue/ neck tattoo. Most of us assumed it depicted the face of an abuse victim -- one which bore striking resemblance to the police photo of his ex-girlfriend Rihanna -- but is supposedly a Mexican sugar skull based on a MAC cosmetics design.

Whether this late-afternoon explanation is damage control or a sincere shout-out to the Day Of The Dead we probably won't find out (at least until his next Twitter outburst). But what's worse than his poor taste in body art is the continued celebration of the singer at the hands of "Team Breezy," a group of hundreds of thousands who refuse to acknowledge that he is a misogynistic, damaged, sick, and disturbed human being. (Not to mention a music industry that continues to shower him with accolades, most recently at the MTV Awards where he was also seated near Rihanna for maximum media attention.)

Even if he hadn't hit Rihanna until her face was swollen and bruised, to get a neck tattoo that, intentionally or not, looks like a battered woman is alarming. If you knew somebody who got the same neck tattoo in real life, you would justifiably freak out. However, this recent stunt just adds to his legacy of not giving a fuck about his behaviour or the consequences stemming from it. Just look at screencaps of his post-Grammy Twitter rants if you need proof of just how badly he "doesn't care" what we think.



But the truth is, he does. An attention-monger to the highest degree, Chris Brown used the Grammys to announce his "comeback" (from destroying the Good Morning America green room or being charged with assault, I guess?), and took to social networks afterwards to champion himself and to pay homage to "the haters." Following his fight with Drake in June, he did the same thing to perpetuate more "Breezy versus the world" propaganda, riling up his misguided army for the sole purpose of making himself feel like a hero.

But a hero doesn't romanticize violence against women. Regardless of what one's been through or overcome or has had to endure, a hero would get the help he needs and try to right his wrongs. A hero would choose to LEAD "Team Breezy" (for good!) as opposed to using them to stroke his own ego. Chris Brown is no hero -- and none of this is news, either.

Nothing is news here. Hundreds of pieces have been written about Chris Brown, Rihanna, and what it all means, but by writing them, we fall into the same trap: giving him press and Google alerts and fodder for rants which is everything he wants. The haters fuel him. The anger fuels him. And then he uses that fuel to unleash more hate and anger upon the world, which all of us are affected by.

Because we are all affected by this. Upon news of Chris Brown's body art, most of our Twitter feeds blew up with people who were appalled, disgusted and understandably upset. It is upsetting. Chris Brown being famous is upsetting. Chris Brown being celebrated is even MORE upsetting. The fact that I have to write a piece explaining why Chris Brown is upsetting is upsetting, too. But those men/women/children who subscribe to Team Breezy believing that a strong man is an angry one who "overcomes" (those who speak out against abuse? Those who fight for human rights?), is the most upsetting of all.

I'm a hypocrite for writing this, for feeding into the Chris Brown frenzy and for giving his actions any attention whatsoever. But it's a tough choice: do you ignore him, hoping he'll go away (the way we do with many existing systemic problems, and which never works), or do you acknowledge it with the type of reaction most of us keep having (read: face-palms and blind rage)? Maybe it's time to do neither.

Maybe now is the time that we finally put a mark in the Chris Brown "lose" column, but channel our own anger, frustration and feelings of helplessness into actually helping. Our cities are filled with women/girls/boys/men who have been and are being abused, and instead of making quips about the type of monster Chris Brown is (and he is), why don't we donate money to shelters or volunteer where possible?

At the very least, we can stop buying his music. We can make a statement by choosing not to entertain Chris Brown -- or more specifically, by choosing not to let him entertain us.]]> tag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2012:/theblog//3.1738082 2012-09-06T09:30:40-04:00 2012-11-06T05:12:01-05:00

Anne T. Donahue http://www.huffingtonpost.com/anne-t-donahue/
Fans are being forced to make a choice. Will they rally around pop's golden boy, or get behind the new Fab Five? Will the Beliebers prevail, or will it come to a dance-off? Realistically, they both win because the genre's big enough for everybody -- you can have your "Boyfriend" and "What Makes You Beautiful," too.

And for all the haters, if having liked boy bands is wrong, I don't want to be right.

Let's face it: pop music is great. Pop music gets you through angst and through hormones and through all of those terrible factors that define "turbulent teens," but pop music by boy bands does a little bit more.

My personal experiences have shown that Nick Carter singing "I Need You Tonight" will nurse you through heartbreak after grade eight graduation, and *NSYNC's "Bye Bye Bye" will allow for countless debates on whether J.C. is really driving that car. "Mmmbop" teaches the merits of instruments, while learning the steps to "Backstreet's Back" will unify teens in even the most tumultuous school dance settings.

According to my own experiences, like I said.

Like every other pre-teen in the world (except that one pre-teen we all knew), I wasn't a cool kid. And instead of facing that antisocial reality (whatever, I had Titanic), I chose to focus on a world built on croons, promises and Kevin Federline beginning most songs with, "Baby...I know you're hurting..."

How did he know?!? Probably because the boy band formula is as tried-and-true as the magic of Davy Jones showing up to Marcia Brady's school dance. Girl plus boy band equals the stuff of dreams. And since ages between 11 and 18-ish are ripe for self-esteem plummeting, you -- as a North American girl named Anne Donahue -- choose to follow in the footsteps of millions other girls who pledge allegiance to The Beatles, The Monkees, New Kids On The Block, Hanson, Backstreet Boys, *NSYNC, One Direction and The Wanted because these guys probably won't hurt you (and will lead you in song).

And what's wrong with that? Absolutely nothing. We sit around as adults slamming the up-and-commence of today's biggest boy bands, but that's only because we forget -- intentionally or not -- how much our versions of the same meant to us.

Obviously I say this from a standpoint of someone who once clung to boy bands like my own personal Jack Dawson, but according to the millions of dollars in album, ticket and paraphernalia sales, I'm not alone. To some, boy bands are first crushes, modern-day poets, prophets and whatever else prompts young ladies (and gents) to write the name "Justin" on his or her faces. And I say let them. Let them have Justin and Joey and Harry and that guy who's got really great blonde hair, because growing up is crappy enough.

Why would we want to make someone endure it without being able to scream-sing to "What Make You Beautiful" if they really want to?]]> tag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2012:/theblog//3.1729331 2012-08-13T00:37:08-04:00 2012-10-12T05:12:31-04:00

Anne T. Donahue http://www.huffingtonpost.com/anne-t-donahue/ Forget the Opening Ceremony performances, it was the Spice Girls appearance we were actually waiting for. So in celebration of the Fab Five’s return, we’ve used Spice World to inspire our favourite musician cameos. And while few can compare to when Elton met Geri, others earn gold for at least surprising us. (More than, say, seeing the Kaiser Chiefs cover The Who. Yikes.)

I turned 12 in 1997; just in time for the Spice Girls.

True, they'd been around for a year before, but because I was previously obsessed with lip-syncing to Celine Dion alone in my bedroom, it took a while for "Wannabe" to replace "Falling Into You." And then it did.

I learned the dance moves. I bought the CDs. And my best (and only) friend supported my choice to buy both Baby and Posh Spice dolls because their outfits reflected completely different states of mind.

We began scrapbooking. Saturday mornings were for spending our babysitting money on stickers, chocolate bars, candy, gum and those postcards that looked like photographs, and our afternoons were for organizing said paraphernalia accordingly because otherwise it'd have all been in vain.

I bought their live videos and their singles and on a cloudy Sunday, my mom took me and my Baby Spice-inspired pigtails to see Spice World. Afterwards, fuelled by their energy, positivity and message of empowerment, I started a fan club. Figuring the best time to get the 20 pages of "club information" in order was when my best friend was on vacation, I spent a week tirelessly combing through magazine articles to find and type facts like favourite snacks, favourite colours and quotes on girl power. When my friend came back, I gave her the binder -- but by then she was over them.

I was crushed. Not only did the Spice Girls represent something I wanted desperately to be a part of (a group of friends, to begin with), but our love of the band was something we shared. True, neither of us was popular, and our obsession with the Fab Five seemed completely insane, but we were in it together. And then all of a sudden it wasn't "cool."

Loving them wasn't the same after that. Instead of proudly displaying my Spice Girls dolls, books and posters, I felt like my commitment to "the cause" gave away my immaturity. So I moved on, replacing the Spice Girls with Aqua (it wasn't the same) and then later Titanic (but that was all Leo).

But the older I've gotten, the more I've realized how common that is. At one time or another, we all loved music so blindly that we didn't care about opinions or ratings or reviews or critics, and just loved it for how it made us feel. In my case, the Spice Girls made me feel like it was okay not to fit in because none of them seemed to, and they succeeded. (Now I know that was just good marketing, but why should I put down something that got me and countless other girls through middle school?)

In our old ages -- and particularly in the music industry -- the joy is gone. We put music down because it's too catchy, too popular, too pedestrian or just not cool enough, all while taking the joy out of it and using terms like "guilty pleasure" when turning up "Starships."

Like what you like. We chalk cynicism up to maturity, when in reality we're doing ourselves a disservice and missing out on having fun. Kids line up for One Direction and Justin Bieber because somewhere in their melodies, lyrics or sick, sick beats, there's something to latch on to -- even if it's a shared interest with their best friend. Let them have it, and in the meantime, let's stop stifling our own opinions and imposing our makeshift authority just because something's not "critically acclaimed" or for fear that we'll be told we're not cool.

Nobody's cool (especially if you once performed choreography to "Stop" out front of your house when waiting for dinner). So instead of trying to prove why we are, why don't we remember why we scream-sang Hanson once upon a time, or bought the piano music for "Barbie Girl?" For once, let's stop being all-powerful authorities, and use "kids today" to remind us that when we find joy in liking something, it's not necessarily a bad thing.

In the words of Amy Poehler, "no one looks stupid when they're having fun."

Check Out The Gallery Below For The Musical Performers At The Olympic Closing Ceremony
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