No, no, no Victoria. You are a lovely, funny, misguided young fool and we, the British who really rather adore you and admire your sheer determination to be lots of things you are not, want to tell you that these images for U. S Glamour were a big, fat, skinny mistake.
Yes, we know Madonna got away with it last month and we all secretly rather liked the pouty, leopard skin images of her peeling onions for Dolce and Gabanna, but Victoria Sweetie, that’s because we all got the irony, and in our wildest imagination, we could at a stretch imagine she was just one more sultry Italian housewife doing her thing.
But you Victoria, you just aren’t Madonna are you? We don’t get the joke because you look like a porn star posing for the kind of magazine they sell in cellophane in service stations. (Little Jugs?) We don’t get the joke because we were kind of hoping that beyond the whole Spicy business, and bizarre, profile only paparrazi shots, you were a bit like us: bringing up your boys and holding your marriage together. An ordinary woman leading an extra-ordinary life. We don’t get the joke because the message is all muddled up: at once patronising, sleazy and saddest of all, dosed in the kind of “I wanna be’s” that dilute your authenticity.
Have I made myself clear? Good. Now do excuse me, I’m off to caress myself with my Posh telephone. Have a lovely day Honey Pie.x