Photo of Snooki courtesy of MTV.ca.
Alright, so maybe we just liked Snooki best because she was cheap. At a reported two thousand USD plus travel costs for public appearances, the littlest one seemed a steal compared to Pauly D. or The Situation’s demand for seventy-five hundred dollars.
But now, a month after Jersey Shore‘s run ended, the starlet’s asking costs for appearances have ballooned faster than The Situation’s ego after a typical GTL sesh.
The modern-day petition and most prolific form of grassroots movement for our generation (that being the Facebook group) to bring Snooki, a.k.a. Nicole Polizzi, a.k.a. the “Princess of Poughkeepsie” to Toronto started ramping up cash for its cause in December.
Right as Snooks’ stardom soared into the stratosphere around the middle of January, however, the group’s creator (and tongue-in-cheek Snookie supporter) Laura-Louise Tobin stopped receiving emails from the star’s agent. And this wasn’t the first time an independent start-up’s attempt to book the little pickle-muncher flunked—it happened at NYU, too. But lucky (or unlucky) for us, Snooki’s coming to Hogtown this weekend courtesy of Xclusiv, a promo company renowned for bringing us the likes of Brody Jenner, Paris Hilton’s BFF Brittany Flickinger, and general awesomeness at clubs like Wetbar and Skybar.
It’s not like she needs the money or notoriety.
Snooki, who is actually Chilean (which grants us immunity from any disgruntled commenters frazzled by the use of terms rhyming imperfectly with “libido” or “tuxedo”) has already paid off a lifetime of tanning minutes with ubiquitous appearances on daytime talk shows, late-night talk shows, award shows, a contract for an outrageously high-paid second season, and miscellaneous appearances including a stint as “No Bump-it” Nicole the Weathergirl, and host of a Fist Pumping Competition in Florida, helping guidos and whoever else can tolerate ’em to “beat up the beat” for a fist pump–worthy ten grand. She’s got her own street fighter game and a whack of Snooki-inspired paraphernalia. It’s been continent-wide Shore uproar, and since we’ve already seen the likes of Pauly D. and “The Sitch” up in the T Dot it seems only appropriate that Snickers should make her way north.
Shore fanaticism seems to have faded ever since the finale. Walking downtown a month ago, we’d mark numerous occasions where passers-by employed Shore lingo, or engaged in full-fledged debate about its cast of characters and their merits, tendencies of inducing drama, or sparring abilities. (At one point, eavesdropping for the better part of a dinner out, a neighbouring table never once changed the topic from MTV’s hit over the whole course of their meal.) In bars and clubs, the rising fist pump is no longer restricted to College or Richmond Street; rather, it’s now a ubiquitous party-starting move, a high-and-mighty nod to general douchebaggery, garnering more high-fives and cheering than a “My New Haircut” reference. Brampton’s own Michael Cera, known for his awkward teenage looks and real celebritydom, got a Pauly D. guido ‘do and reality-TV makeover by the (former) housemates. Even Jian Ghomeshi, host of Q and Torontoist hero, couldn’t resist the hype, hosting an episode where guests seriously debated whether Jersey Shore should be pulled [MP3] for its excessive stereotyping and use of the potentially offensive terms “guido” and “guidette.”
But back to this weekend: do we care? Did we ever even care? A summation of our passing obsession with Jersey Shore is put most wisely in a (Torontonian) friend’s news feed, who reasons most eloquently why some people can’t get enough: “I used to watch interesting people on TV to make my life feel more interesting. Now I watch pathetic people on TV to make my life feel less pathetic. Qua Jersey Shore.”
Tobin, meanwhile, says she’s less into Snooki and the franchise “since they signed on for a second season.” Ain’t that a beach.