She sings, acts and does the catwalk. She's a starlet<\/p>\n
By Dini S. Djalal<\/p>\n
JAKARTA (JP): It's a typical slackers' day: 6 p.m. and you're
\nsitting in front of the telly fixated by one of the many generic
\nmusic video shows. A svelte and pretty songstress is on-screen,
\ncrooning lovelorn lyrics and pretending that the gorgeous hunk
\nshe's winking at is her boyfriend.<\/p>\n
At first, your mind ponders crucial trivia, like whether in
\nreal life the starlet would actually wear the orange lycra
\ncatsuit with the sequined turban. Then you think, "Wait a minute,
\nisn't this the orthopedic sandals ad model, and the actress on
\nthat boring TV series last night?"<\/p>\n
The answer is a frightening affirmative. In the United States
\nand Europe, a fashion model is often derided, critically and
\ncommercially, for becoming an actress or a pop singer.<\/p>\n
In Indonesia, a starlet is not a starlet until she has
\nplastered her face on a movie poster, a music cassette, and
\ncountless product advertisements and fashion spreads.<\/p>\n
Judging by the precious number of faces appearing again and
\nagain in assorted media, you would never think that Indonesia is
\nthe fourth most populated country in the world. Canada has more
\ndiverse talent, and you could fit the population of five Canadas
\ninto tiny Java.<\/p>\n
Then again, you can't compare Indonesia to Canada (the food is
\nbetter here, for one). But I do wonder why Indonesian popular
\nculture allows starlets to hold a multiplicity of roles, and with
\na weak grasp on them all.<\/p>\n
Most starlets are mediocre actresses with studio-enhanced
\nsinging voices. Their most prominent common denominator is a
\nfondness to pose scintillatingly in front of a camera, which,
\nultimately, is what counts to Indonesian audiences.<\/p>\n
After all, it is the camera which catapulted them into
\nstardom. Parents and teenagers, take note: the best investment an
\naspiring starlet can have is participation in one of the nation's
\nmany beauty pageants. Not necessarily the swimsuit-parade Miss
\nTeenage Bogor variety -- a finalist in teenage magazine Mode's
\nannual "Cover Girl" contests will do. Or in teenage magazine
\nGadis' annual "Cover Girl" contest. Or in women's magazine
\nFemina's annual "Cover Girl" contest. Or ... you get the picture.<\/p>\n
Once recognized by tabloid photographers and fashion editors
\nas a potential photogenic wunderkind, there is nothing stopping
\nthe starlet from becoming a household word -- certainly not lack
\nof talent. First the cover-girl prize, then the deluge of
\ncommercial offers, then the phone-call from a movie producer,
\nthen the arrival of the recording contract, or at least a Karaoke
\nproject.<\/p>\n
These events are usually punctuated by much fanfare and
\npublicity, including the now-tired revelatory interview: "My
\nfirst love was singing and acting. The singing and acting is just
\na side job." Along the way the pile of cash gets taller, for the
\nproducers, promoters, publicists and, of course, the starlet.<\/p>\n
Wondering who these starlets are? Let's not name names, but
\ncelebrity magazine Jakarta-Jakarta often features them on their
\ncovers, accompanied with the revelatory interview. Of course
\nJakarta-Jakarta also features starlets with less diverse
\noccupations, such as plain-old fashion models or, err, plain-old
\nfashion models. Occasionally the magazine spotlights intellectual
\ncelebrities, such as newscasters. Sometimes the celebrity gracing
\nthe cover is "famous by association", for example the ex-fiancee
\nof an accused murderer or the daughter or grand-daughter of a
\npolitical figure. Without fail, however, these cover-models are
\nyoung, pretty and female.<\/p>\n
I'm not demeaning Jakarta-Jakarta -- more power to them for
\nrecognizing the material value of pretty faces. Sex sells, and
\nsex, at least in this country, remains epitomized by a scantily-
\nclad beautiful starlet. It is the eagerly-buying public which is
\nto blame, feasting on superficial glamour and gossip columns. On
\nthat note, more power to the starlet who knows a money-making
\nmachine when she sees one. "Who cares if my out-of-tune voice on
\nthat record is being drowned by heavy synthesizers," the starlet
\nthinks to herself, "I just want my royalties."<\/p>\n
With all that cash, a starlet can save enough to send herself
\nto Public Relations School, the last bastion of respectability
\nfor all aging starlets.<\/p>",
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"sponsor": "Okusi Associates",
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