Deary Diary,

Before the court of public opinion pillories me, let me preface this entry by saying I adore Chloe Kohanski. She had me at her cover of Fleetwood Mac’s “Landslide” during her blind audition for the show The Voice. (And after stalking her Instagram, I want this shirt, too!) 

Watching television is the new way to people-watch without having to actually leave my house and see any real people. (It’s a winter-blues, go away and get-off-my-lawn kind of thing.)

Anyway.

Chloe K. is the 2017 champion of the show The Voice. She is 23 and shows some amazing style, with a throwback penchant for classic rock. Which she broadly labels as “psych rock”. Because she’s 23.

It’s an interesting voyeuristic journey to watch these contestants as they evolve over the course of the competition. I note which ones repeatedly wear the same outfits, which ones break the mold, which ones say one thing but do something else.

Like darling Chloe, who said she was going to dedicate a song to her six-month boyfriend–but didn’t. Instead she agreed with a breathless, “Yeah,” when prompted by host Carson Daly, but that’s not nearly the same thing. Not when other contestants opened their performance by eulogizing America, or their mother, or their desperate hometown.

Hmm…it’s all very interesting from the sidelines.

For the finale, adorable Chloe sang “White Wedding”  as a duet with rock icon Billy Idol. As I watched their performance, it struck me that lovely, twenty-three year old Chloe really has no idea how to interact on stage with this man.

This sixty-two year old legend of a man.

She is rocking and grooving like she is on the sticky dance floor of some dive bar just before closing time. She looks like she would be grinding on him if they knew each other better.

In contrast, Billy Idol is the consummate showman. He turns towards her to include her in their “conversation” but keeps his arms open to the crowd. This openness pulls the audience in to listen, as if they are also a part of this. Because of course they are; that’s what a good show is all about.

Chloe, on the other hand, keeps dropping her mic to her side as she slaps her thigh and shimmies her shoulders in Idol’s direction. During the well-known guitar solo, Billy Idol turns to give credit to the musician doing the heavy lifting at this point, but Chloe is still doing her loose and wobbly drunk girl mating dance. She kind of looks like she got left on that dark, sticky dance floor without a partner, but what she should be doing is wooing her side of the stage.

Musically these two are beautifully matched, and, believe me, I get it. I have been a horny twenty-three year old trying to get my groove on, and thank God I didn’t have to do it in front of America and ten million viewers.

Good luck out there, Chloe Kohanski. I’ll be watching and wishing you well. I hope you make it in the big bad world out there.

I really do.

Sincerely,

Sunny