Then comes the reminder that Aniston is toned and golden and the sun bounces off her Aveeno-smoothed skin like it’s the heat shield on a space vessel reentering Earth’s orbit. a domestic metaphor so heavy it might wallop you off her balcony. They usually open with her greeting the writer with a hug in one of her “zen” but “palatial” homes, with a wide, glowing view overlooking L.A. And yet her habits and poses and wardrobe and lovers have burrowed so deeply into my brain that “Jen Aniston” is a topic I can confidently discuss for hours.Įvery lamely assembled cover story about Aniston will attest to the same things, in the same order. Like most of you, I’ve seen all of Friends and about half her movies. I read cover stories about her in major women’s glossies I watch occasionally when she’s on Jimmy Fallon or pops up in Reese Witherspoon’s Instagram. Is it weird, how much I know? That I didn’t have to Google a single thing in that paragraph? That if competing in an Aniston-centric trivia night, I’d put my odds at knowing every single answer at, quite honestly, 100 percent? I don’t follow her obsessively, dig into fan sites, or hunt for information about her on TMZ. If she weren’t an actress, Aniston would have been an interior designer check Architectural Digest for the receipts on that one. Chris McMillan, the stylist who manufactured the infamous Rachel do, still cuts her hair. She still wears belts with her jeans, like all the time, those thick, solid chestnut-colored ones. She’s godmother to Courteney Cox’s daughter, Coco. When Aniston was married to Brad Pitt, they claimed their favorite thing to do together was stay in and order Mexican food, but dammit if she wasn’t at Mr. She used to have a beloved dog, Norman, a Welsh corgi-terrier mix after he died a few years back she had his name tattooed on her foot. I know an inordinate amount of information about Jen (what her friends call her!). And therefore Jennifer Aniston owns America. Sitting at the head of that long mahogany slab, wearing a jumpsuit and matching cocoon coat as crimson as a Revolutionary War uniform, Aniston might just as well be talking about herself.Īmerica loves Jennifer Aniston. Her character, Alex Levy, is a longtime morning-show host and a darling of viewers: As the beloved face of the program, Levy leverages that adoration to get precisely what she wants, even as a phalanx of blue suits tries to put her out to pasture. And therefore I own America.” She’s not wrong.
#Jennifer aniston voice change full#
“Guess what?” Jennifer Aniston declares to a table full of overbearing, arrogant network execs in the third episode of The Morning Show, “America loves me.
“I can guarantee that you are underestimating me.”
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