Photo: REX USA/Beretta/Sims/Rex.
There's something I have to get off my chest. While most of the world is watching the spectacle that is Kimye, thinking awful thoughts and poking pins into their Kim and Kanye voodoo dolls, I am eating it up. And, it's not because I'm a sucker for grandeur or have some sort of fantasy about a baseball-stadium proposal where I'm presented with an engagement ring worth the GDP of Bhutan. It's because I, Seija Rankin, love Kim Kardashian. In fact, I love the whole Kardashian klan, but my true affection belongs to Kim. It's shameful. It's dishonorable. My family probably wants to disown me (not my dad, though, because unless it's on NPR, he hasn't heard of it), but it's the truth.
Let me start out by addressing the obvious. I completely understand why a person would dislike Kardashian, and why you're probably all crafting angry comments now and maybe even starting a petition to have me fired. So, I should mention that I totally get it. Kim, and the rest of her family, can be self-centered and distasteful — they're basically the epitome of everything that's wrong with the distribution of wealth in this country. I am in no way endorsing, condoning, or justifying how she spends money. When His Royal Highness Prince George of Cambridge has a shabbier nursery than your daughter, it's time to reevaluate your monetary priorities. And, yes, she has none of the talents that one would typically attribute to a TV star. However, I also don't believe that just anyone would have the savvy or entrepreneurial spirit to turn a leaked sex tape into an opportunity to build one of the most successful personal brands of all time. I never thought I would be using the words "entrepreneurial" and "sex tape" in the same sentence, but there you have it.
Her career (or lack thereof), fame, and licensing deals have little to do with why I've seen the same episodes of Keeping Up With the Kardashians more times than I can count. You may think it's sad/pathetic/embarrassing that I literally crack up (and I mean LOLing IRL) when I watch Kim attempt to drive her sister-in-law's 1970s-era pickup truck or record a rap song, but judging by the show's ratings, I'm not the only one. Besides the obvious entertainment factor, I've also come to the conclusion that the future Mrs. West is the most considerate and caring member of the family. She's always the first one to step in and help her fellow Kardashian-Jenners, and anyone who's dealt with Kris Jenner knows that's no easy task. While her sisters are off giving each other bikini waxes and ignoring their husbands/non-romantic life partners, Kim is putting up with her mom's crazy demands and feigning concern about her face-lifts. I'm pretty sure it takes the patience of a saint to listen to your mom complain about voluntary plastic surgery; it's the Beverly Hills version of sitting through vacation pictures.
Another thing I love — yes, I said love — about Kim is her dogged determination to find true love. She's a total sap, but she unapologetically believes in happy endings and isn't afraid to fall head over heels. I often find myself wishing I could have the same who-gives-a-darn attitude when it comes to gushing about her S.O. Whenever I'm asked about my boyfriend, I mutter an awkward "he's great" and then make a joke about his over-affinity for cardigans. I should be channeling the Tao of Kim and Kanye.
I just have one final thing to say, and that is to explain my Kim Kardashian-baby-make-under theory. While I was always willing to overlook Kim's addiction to her glam squad, I'm convinced motherhood has made her turn over a new,
no-frills slightly-less-frills leaf. For the first time, the reality star has been photographed with minimal makeup while and her roots showing. And, in the above photograph, I'm pretty sure she's wearing leggings that aren't even made by Lululemon. This is the girl who used to get a full-face airbrushed only to go to Pilates, and now she's strolling through Paris — of all places — without brushed hair. It's like she's finally found the key to inner happiness, and it's literally shining through her pore-less skin. Heck, I'm considering going out and getting myself a baby just to look half this rested and breezy. (I am, of course, kidding. That's what night creams are for.)
So, have I convinced you of all of Kim Kardashian's redeeming qualities? Or, at the very least, do you want to scratch my eyes out a little less than you did at the beginning of this story? Either way, I feel better just by getting my obsession off my chest. I will no longer live in secrecy, worrying that I'll be judged for letting a Kim-induced giggle slip during a viewing of The Kardashians or accidentally liking one of her Instagram selfies. Instead, I'll go out into the world and live just like Kim: loud, proud, and never more than a phone call away from my private jet.