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They say it’s not the crime that gets you, but the cover-up.  I say to the image consultants of Hollywood: It’s not just the cover-up that gets you, it’s the half-hearted cover-up that insults the intelligence of even unintelligent people.  It’s the bizarre excuses made up en route to the press conference that make it seem like you’re not even trying anymore.

Take Miss Ashlee Simpson, for example. She’s been laughing off questions about her apparent nose job and offering coy “maybes.” Ashlee, no. You’re from the Simpson camp, and the Simpson camp can do better.  If you’re not going to admit that your old nose sits in a jar in Dr. 90210’s office, at least pay me the small respect of spinning an outrageous tale. Chalk it up to 21 years of bad lighting, or even acid reflux.  If I don’t hear it from you, I’ll have to hear it from US Weekly.

I remember an episode of the TV classic “Growing Pains,” in which Carol Seaver arrived home late for curfew. Her brother Mike, ever the rascal, schooled her in the art of the cover-up.  His lesson: The best kind of fib is carefully crafted, pumped up with lots of artificial details. Whether truth is meant to be warped a tad or snapped like a twig, it's useful advice.

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Using '90s sitcom wisdom as my guide, here are a few helpful pointers for flacks out there hoping to gloss over their clients' joking, smoking and midnight toking without sounding dubious:

Too vague: Lindsay Lohan telling me she dropped the weight through “old-school working out.”

Just right: Lindsay Lohan telling me that, on a recent trip to Mexico, she bought a Lifecycle, drank some smelly tap water, and subsequently — in a perfect storm for rapid weight loss — simultaneously acquired a new exercise routine and a rare breed of parasitic flat worm.

That's the level of detail I deserve for suffering through “Just My Luck.”

Too vague: Katie Holmes' bland assertion that “Suri’s doing great! ... She’s back at the house.”

Just right: Kate Holmes assuring the world that “Suri is currently napping in her 4-in-1 convertible crib, a small smile dancing across her innocent face as her father, who is Tom Cruise — and no one other than Tom Cruise — reads her a passage from Dianetics.”

See?  Specific, but not too specific. Mike Seaver would approve.

Incidentally, this approach also allows you to dismiss skepticism about your client's personal lives while simultaneously sticking in product endorsements and plugs for personal religious beliefs.  So, there you go, publicists of the world. Equivocation meets consumerism meets proselytism, and voila, synergy! Go forth and gloss like warrior poets.  Do it like you don't need the money.  If you must insult a nation's intelligence, at least do it with loads of heart and gusto.  You don't even have to admit that you took tips from me.

Paige Ferrari is a freelance writer in New York City. She blogs at make-you-hmmm.blogspot.com.

© 2009 msnbc.com.  Reprints


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