Diamonds, Engagement Rings & Diamond Jewelry in popular culture

Evidently, people watch the Miss Universe pageant.  In addition to hosting the most beautiful women in the world (often stereotypes of the countries from which they come), the pageant also, apparently, has live music performances.  Like the MTV Awards or the Grammys.

Only not quite.

Although the pageant is owned by Donald Trump, even he can only buy so much star-power.  So we didn’t see any beautiful ballads by Beyonce, or mind-blowing metal from Metallica.  We didn’t even get a freaky performance by Michael Flatley, Lord of the Dance.

One can only assume that Mr. Trump lost a significant bet when he signed off on the performer whose song would showcase several of the world’s great beauties.  While everyone with nothing better to do on August 23rd watched, Heidi Montag took the stage.  To sing.

"I've Been to Kosovo, Rwanda, and Beirut. I've covered the Gulf War, Hurricane Katrina, and the death of a Pope. Why Am I Watching This?"

No, really.

Well, actually, she came out to lip-sync a song that must be hers, but she didn’t seem to know the words that well.  She also danced, or did her version of dancing.  Let’s just say that Christina Aguilera doesn’t have to worry about the competition when it comes to vocals, and Jennifer Lopez can remain confident in her ability to reign supreme in the dance category.

Spencer Pratt, the delusional crackpot who gave Heidi a real wedding ring this past April, was ecstatic over his wife’s performance.  Heidi herself, when interviewed by MTV, said she feels that, talent-wise, she is on par with Michael Jackson.  Spencer followed that with, “…the modern-day 2010 Michael Jackson”, and, since Jackson’s death, Heidi is possessed with a little bit of “Michael Jackson Juice”.  Only, according to Pratt, she will be “way bigger”.

Where to start?

1. The only thing that Heidi Montag and Michael Jackson have in common is rhinoplasty. 
2. Heidi may well be possessed, but it isn’t by the spirit of Michael Jackson.
3. Out of respect for the dead, there will be no comment on ‘Michael Jackson Juice’.

Of course, we need to remember that Spencer Pratt, while on the reality show “I’m A Celebrity, Get Me Out of Here”, became a ‘new Christian’.  How?  He was baptized on film.  His baptism was performed by Stephen Baldwin.   You can’t make stuff like this up.

Somehow, the topic of Heidi’s performance ended up on CNN, in the adorable hands of Anderson Cooper.  Here is a respected member of the news community—who must have also lost a bet—watching the footage from the Miss Universe Pageant.  Looking a little confused, he said, “I don’t really know who this person is, nor why she is pretending to be a singer, nor why anyone should actually listen to her, but apparently she is famous.”  Having seen her Twitter page, he noted that, “She twittered to congratulate herself and thanked God.  I don’t think God had anything to do with this production.  If God had time to work on this production and that’s the best he could do, we’re all in trouble.”

Amen to that, Anderson.  Amen.

When Tyra Banks was spotted at the Daytime Emmy Awards last week wearing a large ring on her left hand, the rumors started flying that it was an engagement ring from her longtime boyfriend, John Utendahl.  Not so, says Tyra, who communicated with fans the way all celebrities do now: Twitter.  She claims that it is her high school class ring, and that she wears it all the time.

Funny no one ever noticed it until now.

She went on to say that it was only 10-karat gold, anyway.  Like the Tyrannosaurus would settle for anything like that from her future husband.

Tyra Banks May or May Not Be Engaged to Some Guy.

Out to dinner with her boyfriend of two years, the former Supermodel-turned-talk-show-host-turned-mogul was again sporting the ring.  Her spokesperson told Gossip.com that it is not an engagement ring, that she wears it almost every day, and that her client is not engaged.

Maybe she is, maybe she isn’t.  But if Tyra is going to announce her engagement, she will ANNOUNCE her engagement.  And in a dignified way, like she does all things: on her daytime talk show.

In between talking about women being beautiful at any size one day and featuring the undernourished contestants from “America’s Next Top Model” the next, Tyra will certainly find a way to interview normal people about their beautiful, tear-inducing engagement stories and then make a screaming, drag-queen-style announcement that she, too, will be a bride.

The problem is this:  who cares?  No one knows John Utendahl from a hole in the ground.  This is not Demi Moore announcing her engagement to Ashton Kutcher, or Gwen Stefani marrying Gavin Rossdale, or Madonna divorcing anyone.  This is someone who used to be famous and now has a daytime talk show.  She also runs a reality television modeling competition after which the winners are lucky if they can reclaim their jobs at Walgreen’s.

When Tyra was dating and, allegedly, engaged to former NBA player Chris Webber, it was interesting enough to flip through US Weekly to read the article.  So this Utendahl guy is a millionaire.  Duh.  Who would expect Tyra Banks to date some nobody who didn’t have money?  How would she even MEET some nobody who didn’t have millions?

Someone’s gotta pay for those weaves, after all.

But as to whether or not Tyra Banks is engaged, we’ll know the answer when she announces it in that subtle, Tyra way: maybe by having the contestants on “America’s Next Top Model” do a challenge in wedding dresses.

If she got engaged to, say, Jon Gosselin, then we might tune in.  THAT would be worth seeing.

Yes, Emmitt Smith was on DWTS, but his smile was too big and his eyes were too bright to bring any real teeth-gritting, sweat-smelling, multi-tattooed machismo to the show.  He was, after all, ballroom dancing.  It takes something special to cancel that out.

This season of “Dancing with the Stars” promises us a little something else.  It isn’t Michael Irvin, even though he was in the NFL.  He’s too narrow, his style is already ostentatious, and his smile lit up even in his mugshot photo.

That’s right.  Not even a man with multiple indictments against him can match the raw virility that emanates from a Mixed Martial Artist.  Especially when that Mixed Martial Artist is Chuck “The Iceman” Liddell.

Not Your Traditional Preparation for the Lindy Hop.

Now retired from cage fighting, Liddell has found himself a little bored.  After he perfected his Mohawk, beat up a few heavy bags, and finished polishing his MMA Title awards, he finally accepted one of ABC’s offers to appear on the show.  Prior to his retirement, he didn’t want to take time out of his training to practice the foxtrot.  The only dance he was known for was that of the lap variety, and he was usually sitting during those.

Liddell does not fit the image of DWTS, which is probably why they pursued him so vigilantly.  He doesn’t even fit the image of a professional athlete.  He doesn’t wear flashy clothes, he doesn’t try to impress anyone, and, if you didn’t know who he was, you’d probably cross the street to avoid him.  The only thing among his strictly-jeans-and-tshirts wardrobe that says “money” is a watch studded with diamonds.  Even that is often hidden by the sleeve of a sweatshirt.

And now he is appearing on a show that promises to put him in lots of brightly-colored silks and satins, and he’ll probably even be encouraged to smile.  A lot.  Hopefully, his footwork in the cage will translate to some good dancing skills.  How humiliating would it be to lose anything, even “Dancing with the Stars”, to girly-men like Aaron Carter, Donny Osmond, and—inexplicably—Tom DeLay?

In 2007, during an interview with ESPN Magazine, Liddell was talking to a reporter before a fight when another fighter walked by him, and, noticing Liddell’s painted toenails, said “Look at that Gayness”.

Liddell is oozing manhood so much that, when his friends wanted him to paint all his toenails black, he decided to paint his big toe pink.  Bright pink.  Neon pink.  At the end of his career, it was all pink on all 10 toes.  And not one single person on the street would pick on him for it.  Pink toenails or not, it doesn’t take a genius to see that his 76.5 inch reach could pluck most people off the ground and throw them a good distance.

It’s kind of hard to download: a UFC light heavyweight champ tied for the most wins is going to be on network television, and he won’t be beating the snot out of anyone.  We’ll just be able to see the tattoo on the side of his head over and over and over as he spins round and round and round while he does the Tango, or the Cha-Cha, or the Viennese Waltz.

It will be the first time I’ve ever watched the show.  Wouldn’t miss it for the world.

Team Chuck!

Dr. Robert Rey—known as the colorfully-dressed, martial arts practicing Brazilian plastic surgeon on TVs “Dr. 90210”—has managed to get a little more press for himself in the wake of tragedy.  Only Dr. Rey and his sleeveless scrubs could take a horrifying murder and turn it into a photo-op. 

The world has gotten to know Dr. Rey as the semi-dedicated family man who will often put his martial arts training ahead of spending time with his family.  Of course, if you were permanently attached the constantly-whining Hayley after a lavish exchange of wedding rings, you might spend extra time away, too.  First, the silicone-enhanced former wannabe-actress whined because their house was too small.  So he bought her a bigger house.  Then, she whined because it was too big.  The skeletal Goldilocks can’t seem to get what she wants, except for the shamelessly wealthy plastic surgeon husband.

He's Never Met a Bright Color or Photo-Op He Hasn't Loved.

Dr. Rey has become a much sought-after surgeon since his first appearance on television.  He does good work, is considered handsome by women who can look past his clown-colored thousand-dollar suits, and has that charming Brazilian accent.  And his patients seem to find it charming when he flirts with them.  Ick.

And he loooooves the press.

So, naturally, after the horrific murder of Jasmine Fiore and the consequent fleeing of her ex-husband Ryan Jenkins, Dr. Rey had to weigh in.  Climbing out of his black Maserati in his signature sleeveless scrubs, the surgeon was happy to see the folks from TMZ lurking in the parking lot of his office.  In his unique style of English, he spoke of the “super-sad story” and then said, “I’m glad I ran into you guys.”

Of course you are, Dr. Rey.

He then went on to explain—without a note of sadness—“how neat it is” that the way the police were able to identify the body of the slain woman was by the serial numbers on her breast implants.  Luckily, he just happened to have just such an implant in his hands.  He showed on the box where the serial number is, then where it is on the inner packaging, then where it is on the paperwork, and, finally, where the serial number is written on the implant itself.  He took out the little ‘B’ implant—a size I don’t think he’s ever put into a patient—and showed the cameras, up close and personal, where that little identifying number is on every fake breast in the world.

He also noted “how neat that this girl was identified seemingly by something frou-frou”.  Neat indeed, Dr. Rey.  Neat indeed.  As if she might not have ever been identified were it not for her plastic surgery.

Except for this little thing called “DNA” that Dr. Rey seems to have forgotten.  Word is, that can be helpful, too.

On a side note, the late Ryan Jenkins, in between break-ups with his wife, was on two different reality dating shows: “I Love Money 3” and “Megan Wants a Millionaire”.  Evidently, the screening process for these shows needs to be altered somewhat.  Former MTV “Road Rules” alum Mark Long told TMZ that this kind of thing makes reality TV “scary”.

Of course, some of us have always thought it was, anyway.