Pamela Anderson continues to lead us toward the nirvana of a peaceful, sexy life, even in quarantine. The guru has been living full time on her six-acre island compound in Vancouver with her dogs, whom she says she loves as much (not almost as much, or just like, but truly as much) as her human children. On her Twitter account, she has been posting serene and informative videos of otters and hammerhead sharks and delivering pieces of wisdom such as “Hang on … think positive?” with somber thong self-portraits.
Today we got even more insight into Anderson’s perfect mind chamber, through which thoughts seem to float in and out on a light, floral-scented breeze, in the form of an interview about her new gig as creative director of Jasmin, a “webcam-based social platform for influencers, experts, and celebrities to connect with users.”
The way Anderson answers questions is deeply aspirational: When does she go to bed? It depends on the day and whether it is raining. What does she have for breakfast? She has a different machine in each building, so she has different kinds of coffees wherever she goes. What does she do on Mondays? She’s always trying to think over the weekend about what’s going on in her head, what she has watched on the news, what are people talking about, and then she tries to talk about that. This is more practical advice than I received in graduate school.
Perhaps the most perfect aspect of Anderson’s quar-routine are her exercise and beauty regimens. For exercise, she simply looks at her gym, considers the equipment, and moves on. “I have all these different pieces and I just look at it and I haven’t used it yet,” she explains. As for self-care, she answers, “I have on this long, vintage slip that’s tattered and a big flannel shirt over it, and I’m running around barefoot in the rain. If you saw me right now, you’d think, She has no beauty regimen. This is not beauty, this is madness.”
Whenever I feel trapped in the doldrums of my apartment I will now slip into my long vintage slip and tattered flannel, and if it isn’t raining I will ask someone to spritz water on my bare feet. I will picture Anderson, reading her friend Naomi Klein’s books and talking to my dog children in my garden, ensconced in my sexy, peaceful madness.