ANGELINA JOLIE IS EVERY SINGLE MOM EVERYWHERE
Ah, the life of a single mom! Downtrodden! Underappreciated! Stereotyped and judged! Always so much work and only one pair of hands! And in Angelina Jolie's first profile since her split from Brad Pitt , she's gonna TELL US ABOUT IT, GIRL. The hardships! The struggle! Cleaning stuff! She's just like us and she's gonna PROVE IT.
Here's everything you need to know about this Vanity Fair spin-job right now—
- "There’s the Angelina Jolie who’s now a single mother—managing the day-to-day chaos of six kids, and the trauma of her split from Brad Pitt—and there’s the Angelina Jolie whose latest movie, a groundbreaking Netflix original about Cambodia’s genocide, is also a thank-you to the nation that transformed her. At her new L.A. mansion, Jolie reveals the tension between the two Angelinas."
Already, honestly, I can't. Anyone who's making a movie to THANK AN ENTIRE NATION does not get to call themselves a single mother. SORRY BOUT IT. I know your house is filled with 374923784923874923 people managing your shit, girl. I know you're not worried about fucking Spirit Week and Crazy Hair Day and bringing in greens for the classroom turtle, and remembering at the last second it can't be romaine because the turtle is a bougie bitch, and all you have in your fridge is romaine, so you're gonna have to make a SPECIAL TRIP. Do not play me, these are not your problems.
- "She moved into this space just four days ago with her six kids. It wasn’t for the prestigious history or the architecture. She needed a good place fast, somewhere secluded, with a lot of rooms; this one, which was listed for around $25 million, has six bedrooms and 10 bathrooms. Following her September 2016 filing for divorce from Brad Pitt, she and her children spent nine months in a rental, basically living out of suitcases."
NINE MONTHS IN A RENTAL??? Try the last NINE YEARS, heaux. You are not a single mother if you have a $25 million dollar house, sorry bout it. What gives me the authority to decide who is and is not a single mother? COMMON SENSE and a heinous divorce and the past eight years of rapid facial aging as I dedicate my entire life to a child who leaves empty yogurt containers all over the house and pees all over the toilet. This same child shit in a bathtub at least twice and I had to get a SLOTTED SPOON to get it out. So there, I'm an authority on single motherhood, thanks bye.
- "Like most things involving Angelina Jolie, stepping foot into her house is an experience so heightened one wonders if it’s for real or the product of careful orchestration. The large gates to her recently purchased Los Feliz house—an 11,000-square-foot Beaux-Arts mansion once owned by the epic filmmaker Cecil B. DeMille—slowly swing open, revealing rolling lawns, lush trees at the perimeter. No one’s there, and all is quiet except for the delicate sound of fountains, arched in a row over a swimming pool. A number of doors to the house are open, as if posing some riddle from a fairy tale—which one to enter? Inside, the vibe is airy and calm: all open windows and cross-breezes, creamy-white unlit candles, soft creamy-white furnishings. Finally she emerges from the other side of the house and glides across the room in a creamy-white, floor-length caftan. Her hair is down, her feet bare, only a touch of makeup, her skin luminous. She smiles widely—a beneficent, ethereal wood nymph."
WHO LET YOU IN? WHAT DOOR DID YOU CHOSE? Let me see the staff, now there's a story of hardship. If this article is meant to engender sympathy towards Princess Angie, it's not working. Your ethereal wood nymph, barefoot schtick is tired, girl. Tired! WHERE ARE ALL YOUR CHILDREN while you're gliding around shoeless? I've never been around 6 children before where one didn't need to be snatched up and you need shoes for that.
- "She finally settles on the living room, which a set-decorator friend furnished on the fly, with two creamy-white sofas and some big throw pillows. She looks at them curiously. 'I didn’t even know I needed "throw pillows." ' Decorating, house stuff, 'that was always Brad’s thing.' On cue, as if taunting her, Jolie’s large Rottweiler, Dusty, soaking from a trip to the pool, jumps onto the sofa, soiling it. She sighs, amused, half tries to wipe it off with her bare hand, then gives up and sits somewhere else."
I LITERALLY CLUTCHED MY FACE IN MY HANDS. I've been trying to keep one cream colored Pottery Barn couch clean for the last four years. "Get away from the couch!" I scream at my child. "Is that spaghetti on your face? I'm going to kill you if you get it on my couch!" I holler. And let me tell you about the time he smeared PINK JELLO on a cushion. GIRL. The shit hit the fan, there were tears, there was yelling about paper towels and club soda and disappointment, because THIS IS THE ONLY NICE COUCH IMMA EVER HAVE BECAUSE I'M AN ACTUAL SINGLE MOTHER. What's this bitch doing with a dirty, wet Rottweiler? I CANNOT. Prayers for whatever housekeeper is going to give her life trying to keep this goddamn white couch clean under Angie's helpless ass and her 6 ragamuffins.
- "Life in her household is apparently like this—messy, relaxed, normal. The kids are polite but not phony polite. Zahara, 12, whom Jolie describes as 'the rock' of the family, comes downstairs. 'Zaz!' Jolie cries, midsentence. They discuss the whereabouts of everyone else. Zahara hugs the wet dog. Jolie laughs and tells her daughter about the swim Dusty just took. We move to the kitchen, where Jolie fixes herself a cup of tea. Vivienne, 9, comes in with a friend, having just been at a sleepover."
THIS IS PEAK MOTHERHOOD. Gliding around barefoot while the kids sort of just drift in and out. Yes, this is exactly my experience. It's nothing like rushing after work to pick the child up, commuting home, cooking dinner, cleaning up, arguing about homework, and you just want to watch America's Next Top Model and peruse your terrible options on Tinder for one second, but of course you can't because here's the child again, draping their entire body on top of you and begging you to buy them a "Super Mario Plush" on Amazon or play Pokemon RIGHT NOW.
- "Jolie tidies up Vivienne’s things and promptly spills her entire mug of tea all over the counter."
OF COURSE SHE DID.
- "We step outside and there’s Shiloh, 11, and Knox, 9, hanging out. Shiloh, who likes to dress like a boy, is wearing a camouflage jacket, long shorts, and heavy black sneakers, despite the blazing heat. Knox immediately wants to know when Jolie’s going to put up the waterslide. 'How about a ‘Hello, Mom’?' she says, with a hug, sounding like just about every other loving, exasperated mother in America. So far, there’s only one piece of personal artwork up—a black-and-white photograph on the mantelpiece of the six children, smiling and holding their various pets—dogs, reptiles, and rodents."
KNOX, boo, you know better than to ask your mom about the waterslide. Bitch is never erecting the waterslide. Go find the nanny. Oh, the nanny is busy cleaning up the shit from the various pets—dogs, reptiles, and rodents? Then try one of the 3,000 personal assistants, MOVE ALONG, KNOX, MOVE ALONG.
- "As for Jolie, a life already bursting at the seams—with acting, directing, humanitarian work, parenting six kids, and guest-lecturing on women’s rights at the London School of Economics—just got exponentially bigger and more complicated, because she’s now doing it alone. There’s the chaos surrounding the practical day-to-day—playdates, doctors’ appointments, packing and unpacking, and organizing mealtimes."
HEAUX MY GOD SHUT UP. The idea that the absence of Brad has made planning mealtimes more stressful is making my head explode. I think I might literally pass out or kill this writer who is really selling this Angie's just like us schtick. I mean at least Brad's article was fucking hilarious, this is just OUT OF TOUCH. Angie does not pack or unpack, I will not be fooled.
- "I mention Pitt’s mea culpa in GQ Style. Did it surprise her? 'No,' she replies, looking unmoved. I refer to tabloid reports that suggest their communication has improved, and ask if that’s true. There’s a long pause. She looks down, formulates an answer. 'We care for each other and care about our family, and we are both working towards the same goal.' There’s anger and pain right there beneath the surface. But she’s trying to keep the emotions at bay. 'I was very worried about my mother, growing up—a lot. I do not want my children to be worried about me. I think it’s very important to cry in the shower and not in front of them. They need to know that everything’s going to be all right even when you’re not sure it is.''
This is the first bit of relatable truth in this article and I'm not gonna say anything snarky about it.
- Lately, her skin has become drier, she reports, and she has extra gray hairs.
- “I’ve been trying for nine months to be really good at just being a homemaker and picking up dog poop and cleaning dishes and reading bedtime stories. And I’m getting better at all three. But now I need to get my boots on and go hang, take a trip.”
Nice to have that option.
- Jolie can’t help who she is. “I never woke up and thought, I really want to live a bold life. I just can’t do the other. It’s the same as I can’t make a casserole. I cannot sit still.”
And I'm exhausted. I don't want to hate you, Angie, but like, you're making it real hard, girl.