Victoria Beckham at LAX, October 2010.
Okay, so here’s the deal - I love Victoria Beckham. It used to be an ironic, “Oh, isn’t it funny I like Posh Spice?” type of thing. And there still is a delicious ridiculousness about her, I won’t deny that. I’ve called her before a straight woman drag queen, and I stand by it, in the most loving way. I also have always believed she herself is aware of this ridiculousness and is totally cool with it. But now I’ve also embraced the fact that I just think she’s fabulous. She happens to embody my own super-skinny body type (which I have not always been that comfortable with) (oh, and minus the crazy breast implants, although, happily, she had hers removed) and I basically want to dress like her all the time.
I mean, look at this bitch. Not only is that dress fantastic, her carry-on luggage matches her handbag, which matches her shoes, which complements - but not matches! - her dress. Accessorized perfectly. Hair extensions back in, which suits her well, and hair is styled well, chic and effortless. This is posh, with a modern American edge.
And have you seen her collection? I would wear almost every single thing there. Well, I would if I had the money to buy them and the slightest reason to wear them in my existence as a working single mom in Ohio. But it’s beautiful work.
So, there you are. I adore Victoria Beckham. She’s like Jackie O with a funny accent, a wrist tattoo and an even hotter husband. What’s not to like?