Little Miss Sun Shine

Outside, after the show, near the tour buses, a couple of Perry’s music-business associates are standing around talking about Perry and what makes her so special.

“Everyone at the label thought, ”˜OK, we did ”˜California Gurls’ as a single; OK, we did ”˜Teenage Dream’; OK, we did ”˜Firework’; now is the time for ”˜Last Friday Night.’’And it’s like, ”˜No, we’re going to do ”˜E.T.’ now,’ and it’s like, ”˜Oh, really? OK.’ Then, lo and behold, ”˜E.T.’ ends up becoming the song with the most radio spins in a single week, ever. Who knew that would happen? Katy knew.”

“I’ve always marvelled at how childlike she looks at everything.”

“I think it’s because she was so sheltered for so long.”

“I remember when she came into my office and played ”˜Ur So Gay’ for me on the acoustic guitar. I was horrified, because I thought, ”˜This is going to cause problems.’ She didn’t understand that. She thought I was crazy. She’s not naive in any way, but people say she’s calculating, and she’s not calculating at all. It’s a kind of savvy, a knowing who your fans are and who you are, too, which is why we’re always looking to her for direction.”

But no one around her really seems to be able to figure out why she is the way she is. Probably it’s just a question of inner drive. Just like her parents, she’s proselytising and preaching a message. It’s not a message of fire and brimstone. It’s her own message. It’s a message of hope, based not only on some of her lyrics, but also on Glam, and the transformative power of Glam. Glam power. It’s pretty cool. It gets you heard when nothing else will.

The next day, up in her hotel room, Perry is again in pyjamas, again tired (“so tired”), again without makeup, again looking 17, not 26. She’s talking about something that her husband recently said. He said, “I can’t believe I used to have sex 20 times a week, especially now I’m married. But now I’m a bloody good gardener!” She says, “He had more sex than anybody we know, and so, of course, when you’re in a monogamous relationship, I could not keep up with that kind of ”“ that’s an addiction, and he was hardcore. It was drugs, sex and alcohol. And he’s so fit now. He’s changed so much. If I have a hangover, I look at him and say, ”˜How the fuck did you do heroin every day, when I can’t even have three glasses of wine and not want to ever drink again?’” She pauses. “I’m so happy he lived, of course. God bless him.”

But what about that pic of her he tweeted to the world, looking more or less like she looks right now? Wasn’t she pissed?

“I wasn’t pissed,” she says. “I mean, I can’t be a full tranny every day of the week. That’s an exaggerated part of my personality. It’s me hamming it up. The exterior me is a little bit more smiley than the interior me. The interior me is a little bit more serious. So, that picture, it just shows that I’m a normal, everyday woman who has really big dreams. It gives encouragement to any girls out there that they, too, can be a larger-than-life cartoon.”

A while later, Perry has a Sharpie in hand, drawing a picture of what she thinks she really looks like. “I’m taking my time,” she says, then loses herself in its creation. Minutes tick past. “And”¦ I’m not done,” she says, head still down. Finally, she holds up the drawing. The primary elements are a cat, a heart with dots in it, a cheeseburger and rays of sunshine. She describes it this way: “A shining kitten, hiding behind a polka-dot heart, on top of an all-American cheeseburger.” She looks very pleased with her self-portrait, as well she should, because it’s a far more appealing likeness than the one her husband tweeted. And it’s a far more accurate one, too.