She's the cute curly artist in the crushingly indie film Me and You and Everyone We Know, which she also directed, in 2005. Most good people have seen it.
I’ve been trying to make friends with Miranda July for about three weeks now. I set up an interview with her when she started this amazingly addictive inbox exhibition project called We Think Alone, but I had to go to a meeting during the allotted interview time. I can’t remember what the meeting was about, but it definitely wasn’t worth it. In fact I think all meetings should from now until forever be replaced by Michael Jackson dance lessons. If I’d missed an interview with Miranda to learn the moves to Thriller, I might not be so bitter. As for Miranda July – if you don’t know who she is, in which case you’ve likely stopped reading – she’s on your right, doing a move in a paper rainbow belt.
Miranda is a feminist "but it doesn't mean you don't love your boyfriend or whatever". She's also captain of the best friendship group, and potentially netball team ever which includes Kate and Laura Mulleavy of Rodarte, Lena Dunham and Kirsten Dunst – who were all part of the We Think Alone exhibition, which I’ve now mentioned twice without explanation. We Think Alone was a sort of weekly newsletter that you signed up for on Miranda’s website. Then “Miranda July” emailed you every week with a compilation thread of emails from her famous friends, including the netball team, about a theme, for example “work”, “money”, “sex”. So we read an email from Kirsten Dunst to someone (she kept her recipients secret) about a new film script; an email from Kate and Laura Mulleavy about some wallpaper they were inspired by, and a heartfelt apology from Lena Dunham addressed openly to her mother and sister, which was one of the best in the series. So it was a seriously good, like really forward thinking, innovative exhibition giving the people what they want: voyeurism in its purest form, with no Showbiz spin.
My pretend friend Miranda is also a well-known performance artist, in fact that's what she's best known for, I think; I don’t know her. And she's an author and a screenwriter and a singer and a comedienne and everything else a sensitive child might write down in a "what I want to be when I grow up" list. Jarvis Cocker was among the audience in her last stand up show, which was called Strangers, where Miranda invited members of the audience up on stage and asked them personal questions in an attempt to get to know strangers and ultimately make everyone friends. I wish I’d been there and brought my Miranda July pants. You can watch the show here if you like.
So to conclude this essentially elaborate friend request, my reasons for wanting to be friends with Miranda July are six-fold. 1. She asks a lot of questions, which is something I love in people. 2. She’s quite funny, which is also very good. 3. We both have curly hair, except I straighten mine, so she could be a curly role model. 4. She has a nasally voice, which I have too, so we could nasal each other. 5. She’s a feminist, and feminists are very important influences in the lives of pathetic girls and 6. She wrote this scene and I want to live in it.
The fact is though, there’s not one reason Miranda July would want to be friends with me, and I’m not expecting a reply to my Facebook message/ tweet or official friend request to “July Miranda”. But unrequited friendship can still be rewarding. As long as you’re willing to be or inherently are a delusional sad act, then everyone’s a winner…