Knickers To Victoria
THE good news is that David Beckham need not replace his wife’s thong with Anorak’s revolutionary new, and reassuringly airy, Comfi-Pants. As Her Poshness declares on the cover of OK!: “I’M NOT REAY FOR ANOTHER BABY.”
That Posh should then tell the world “WHY THE HAIR EXTENSIONS ARE GOING BACK IN” opens up a new area of rich intrigue.
Not that we should talk openly about it, and we should certainly not illustrate our discussion and debate with pictures of Posh wearing a dress or placing her hair in a bun or draw.
As she tells OK!: “They [the paparazzi] follow us everywhere. We have a security team everywhere we go – school, shopping, McDonald’s… and I don’t like it.”
Indeed, such attention would try even the most temperate of souls. But before we suggest that Posh ditches the team of burly minders, send one of them out to pick up some saturated fat in Micky D’s or stay in and cook, she tells us: I don’t like someone watching me buy a pair of knickers.”
Better perhaps if Posh could ask the world’s foremost knicker sellers to close their shops and draw the blinds while she makes her purchases.
“Do I wish to be anonymous,” asks Posh. “Of course!” she adds.
Which may well bring as back to the thorny issue of Posh’s headline-making tresses, and encourage thoughts that she is to cover her face if not her entire person with them. Posh will be no more recognisable than the Addam’s Family’s Cousin Itt.
But people will stare, even at a hirsute Posh. She is possessed of something that attracts attention. Her fame is a curse to be endured.
She tells us that she has tried to avoid the limelight before, but to no avail.
“I accepted that when I stopped being a Spice Girl, David would be the one more in the limelight,” says she. “I stopped singing to look after David and the kids.”
How very selfless is Posh, who has appeared at many a post-Spices premier or party on her husband’s shoulder, shunning the limelight in a florescent yellow gown and pair of silver greaves.
But now David is reaching the end of his career as a model footballer, Posh is once again to the fore.
And what with shopping, the browsing and the (did we mention the shopping?), she has no time for another child. “I would love a little girl…But I take my pill every morning, as now isn’t quite the right time.”
Indeed. The poor girl barely has times to buy her knickers, let alone drop them…
Posted: 23rd, October 2006 | In: Reviews Comment | TrackBack | Permalink
