I’m so glad Noreen Malone wrote this piece in New York about how people won’t stop judging Priscilla Chan. Because it is just so damn annoying and predictable and true. Malone notes how very disappointed the media industrial complex seems to be that they’ve been provided such a blah narrative to work with: the trip to McDonald’s on the honeymoon, the un-flashy ruby engagement ring, the burritos at the wedding reception. It’s all so incredibly inconvenient for a culture hungry for a Kate Middleton to call its own. “In a world of celebrity weddings and bejeweled arm-candy wives,” Malone writes, Chan is “not demanding to be treated like a princess by her wealthy husband, and worse still, she’s ignoring demands that she act like one for their amusement.” This, coupled with the fact that Chan doesn’t have any interest in granting interviews so she can express what it is she does value, has made the press “even more inclined toward vindictiveness.”
It makes sense that Priscilla Chan doesn’t care about clothes or big old rings. She appears to be Mark Zuckerberg’s total soul mate in dorkiness, and that’s kind of awesome. And I don’t blame her at all for wanting to stay the hell out of the way and not give interviews or try to live up to anyone’s notion of who she should be. If she stands even a fighting chance of maintaining the respect of those she just worked her ass off with at medical school—or gaining the respect of those she’ll be working alongside wherever she goes next—she’s taking the smartest course imaginable.