Separated at Birth: Epistolary Thoughts on Britney Spears

To my dearest darling readers:

On Sunday night I hosted a Britney Spears dinner party and made portobello burgers with green sauce and smoked mozzarella and spinach artichoke pasta salad out of my Rachel Ray cookbook to celebrate Britney's triumphant return to the stage.  But Britney's performance was hardly a triumph.  I was confused from the moment it began: I had expected a grand entrance, for her to drop from the ceiling or appear out of nowhere in some sort of mindfreaky illusion, but the broadcast began with her already on stage.  There was no elaborate set, no pyrotechnics, just Britney and a team of dancers.  Throughout the routine poor Britney looked nervous, unsteady, and a little bit chubby.  It was not the comeback I had so anxiously awaited, nor the jumpstart her career so desperately needs.

But was her performance really the calamity everyone makes it out to be?  Britney didn't fall or experience any wardrobe malfuctions.  Certainly things could have been much worse.  And there was something comfortingly familiar about it all—she reminded me of me.  Her unsteady steps reminded me of the way I feel when I'm wearing brand new high heels.  I kept thinking, "Maybe it's the shoes."

And when Jim announced in the middle of her performance that she'd officially entered her "fat Elvis years," I was not only offended on Britney's behalf, but also on my own.  In my underwear, I look an awful lot like Britney: a little bit chubby, but okay if I stand up straight, suck in, and stand perfectly still.  Maybe Britney was moving so gingerly because she was trying not to jiggle.

I'm not alone in identifying with Britney.  My friend Alida confessed to me that she liked the performance because "it was the everyday woman's performance—it was how I would look if I were dancing up there in a bra and undies."

So maybe Britney's not quite back to her old self, but maybe that's okay.  Maybe the new Britney is one who is human and relatable and unafraid to look chubby in her undies—like a white Tyra Banks.  Maybe the new Britney is someone we can all learn to love, not in spite of her faults, but because of them.

Love,

Lauren

Comments

[jennifer]

i feel exactly the same way.

i also feel like she needs some good friends to love her and not let her perform when she's obviously not ready - her image just doesn't include being normal.

[Aenon Amos]

All Brit comparisons aside, I think you look damn fine laur. Especially in the second pic from the left where it looks like some dude's got a finger tucked down the front of your low-riser--totally bonerific.

[Cranky Putz]

Oh thank goodness, because really my body is just as 'perfect' what's with all the peeps saying she looks fat....

I felt bad for the poor girl...love the pics btw...