Britney Spears is everything good about the world
Michelle Williams saying 'fo shizz fo shizz Ginuwine fo shizz' is therapy
Britney Spears has been a delight for as long as I can recall. After her January 1999 debut with her first LP, ‘Baby One More Time’. I remember being four years old and mumbling along with the title track in my big sister’s bedroom while she screamed at me to get the fuck out and to leave her alone.
“You don’t even know the words,” she said, pointing to the door, which felt so unfair because she, the proud owner of a bright blue ‘boombox’ ’, was the one with the pale pink album on rotation, therefore the means to improve. Despite my protestations to stay in the only place with a constant stream of bubblegum pop, I was booted out.
Now, with Britney’s back catalogue blaring out of my laptop, free from impediments like a mother who dubbed her material ‘noise’ and waiting for my sister to let me use her Walkman, it feels right to reflect on the joy Britney has delivered to the world amid suffering the Judy Garland-like abuse. In her memoir, ‘The Woman in Me’, published last week, you can’t help but feel she has been mistreated forever. It’s way past the time for her to be able to speak about it in her own words and not via a cheaply produced documentary without her consent.
After finishing the audiobook for which Michelle Williams should get a Grammy, I was filled with righteous anger for this woman who only ever wanted to have fun, love and be loved in return and be a performer. Born in McComb, Mississippi, to Lynne and Jamie Spears in 1981, Britney escaped her Kentwood, Louisiana home and her father’s alcoholism, heading to Broadway and on the Mickey Mouse Club. Her 2007 breakdown, which morphed into the infamous coercive situation, puppeteered by the people who were supposed to protect her, snatched away her ability to pick the simplest things: the food she ate, the songs she sang, the people she saw, like her two sons. As the ladies of the ‘Celebrity Memoir Book Club’ podcast noted, she seems hellbent on finding peace, instead of holding grudges.
This feels admirable because Britney has been the punching bag for everyone who claimed to love her, like her ex-boyfriend Justin ‘Fo Shizz, Fo Shizz’ Timberlake, the press, her entire family and many others.
Loving Britney, playing the 2003 'Britney’ album track ‘Bombastic Love’ on repeat feels a bit icky when you know how the sausage gets made. Fame is a fickle game, meaning the shiny product you are presented with is often at the expense of much personal pain of the artist, both mental and physical. It is often exploitative by nature, preying on young kids desperate for the bright lights, so it often feels wrong to take pleasure from this buffet of Max Martin euphoria-inducing production.
Since the book’s release, I’ve been reflecting on long-held beliefs like ‘Piece of Me’ is one of the best ‘fuck yous’ to an overbearing media culture (Diane Sawyer, you must answer for your crimes) and honestly, ahead of its time!
It’s very tricky to decide, despite having 15 years, if I’m the kind of person who either ‘entertains’ or ‘observes’ as ‘Circus’ argues is the only kind.
Earlier, I had the unsettling realisation that ‘I’m A Girl, Not Yet a Woman’ no longer applies to my life stage, which is not a positive nor a negative but just is. But my biggest cross to bear is that if my next crush doesn’t feel like ‘(You Drive Me) Crazy’, no thank you!
It feels like this is what Britney wants. In the book, she credits her fanbase for raising awareness and giving her the strength to take her father to court to end the cruel conservatorship that ruled her life for 12 years. The ‘Free Britney’ movement, born out of love and passion for their favourite, is both a meme and a liberation effort. A win for the much-maligned stan culture and parasocial relationships. Perhaps it’s just showbiz mumbo jumbo, but she appears to cherish the love of her fans, the people who arguably wanted better for her than her flesh and blood.
Stay free, Britney and keep posting on Instagram :)