Fake Fame With Real Concerns
How My Weekend Playing Kim Kardashian: Hollywood Gave Me Some Insights Into the Dark World of Fame.
Nearly three hours on a bus trip to DC in early July watching Tobias Fünke “blue himself” and leafing through digital pages on my iPad wore on me. I wanted something new to do. I check my twitter page to catch up on news and keep on seeing headlines about the new game Kim Kardashian: Hollywood. My Tumblr-maven younger sister and Capitol Hill mover-and-shaker friend alike played it. The New York Times called it an “unlikely mobile video game hit” and articles by Vanity Fair, Forbes, and even Jezebel chronicled and legitimized its success. I was bored, so I caved; I downloaded the Kim Kardashian game.
First, I create Stephanie, my wide-eyed, brunette, voluptuous E-List avatar who works in a boutique store in Downtown L.A. Kim shows up just as I’m closing and asks me to reopen the store for her. How can I deny Kim Kardashian? I let her take a silver dress, and she in turn takes me under her wing and sets me up with a manager and a publicist. The publicist leads to a D-List boyfriend, introduced by Kim. Once my fame starts to gain traction, I venture out of L.A. and into Miami and Las Vegas to start meeting A-Listers. I dump the D-List boyfriend in exchange for an A-List one in order to raise my profile.
By the time I got off the bus, I found that the new A-List boyfriend criticizes me unless I spend an obscene amount of money on clothing and accessories to be more appealing. Most of the time in the game, I’m constantly broke from the expensive meals with A-List boyfriend, gifts to maintain connections, clothing, hair, and accessories. I buy homes as the game directs, but leave them all unfurnished to pay for clothing. The fame or fortune conundrum sets in, and fame inevitably wins.
Fame hierarchy is at the heart of the game.
The real-time function and strong social media a presence egged me on to do and want more, or else. The need for relevancy is reflected by the constant and increasingly higher profile projects pushed upon me and the positive reception as a result. My avatar needs to complete projects in a set amount of time, or risk getting poor reviews and thus lowering my status. Energy is commoditized in this game; I have a set amount that refreshes one by one every five minutes and is given out sparingly as I try to complete tasks. That's why there's in-app purchases.
As I was applying makeup in preparation for going out, I promise myself to never spend real money on the game. Once I started to get offers for club appearances in addition to photo shoots, I decided to spend money in order sustain my energy and do more in the game. If I decline or fail to complete projects, my star falls, faces rejection, and drifts into obscurity. I check my phone more often. I wait for Stephanie’s job offers, for newsfeed posts, for more fans- all in order to advance my status. I have a strong sense of urgency for her, even while getting drinks and catching up with longtime friends. When my friends inquired about my heightened phone compulsion and heard my response, they- even the one who played it- broke out into an uncontrollable laugh and then said, “Wait, you’re actually serious?” Of course I laughed along with them and continued to have fun throughout the night; however, I had a lingering thought in the back of my head on Stephanie’s status.
Fans play the most significant role in the game; they validate my existence and self-worth. Fans increase my profile and status; so the more projects I take on, the more times my name is mentioned, the more my fame increases and rises amongst the ranks, and therefore the higher my self-esteem. It becomes clear that a celebrity may find herself relying on fans not only as admirers, but also as consumers who buy into her public persona. Stephanie’s concerns became mine. I became more self-conscious in everything I wrote, spoke, posted, and even dabbed on my lips. Only after 3 days, when I found myself at a happy hour desperately trying to keep up with the demands, did I force myself to step back and think about why I even cared so much.
What started as a fun game quickly became a reality to me about fame and those who to claw after it. Kim Kardashian’s game revealed a troubling world of constant appeasement and pressure to maintain appearances in exchange for a higher social status. I question the accuracy of this game in relation to Kim's life, as well as other tabloid fixtures. Your image is the only power you have in the game; it’s correlated to success. Yet, rejection is not only synonymous with failure, it’s a personal attack on your image, which in turn affects self-esteem. Nicer clothing, a better haircut/color, and expensive shoes certainly help and even remedy the issue, only up until a point. At times, I didn't know if I was playing as Stephanie or her image consultant. It became not just a game, but a quest for constant positive affirmations.
My ideas of false fame had me in a vice grip. It’s unnerving, competitive, expensive, and something I can live without. I- a recent college graduate who’d only seen a handful of Keeping Up With The Kardashians with roommates - did not expect to be swept up within a half an hour of playing it. So, on my trip back and on the brink of B-List fame, I quit.
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