MEMO TO CONDI RICE:
Ignore this at your own peril. ( I know the last time
you screwed up, you got promoted from National
Security Advisor to Secretary of State, but I have a
feeling this time you’ll have to be held accountable.)
Victoria Beckham has hit American shores! Yes,
Victoria, wife of superstar soccer player David (as in
Bend it Like) Beckham. You may have seen them both on
the cover of the August W. (No, not your W, but the
magazine.) There’s much, much more of them on the
pages inside. You say you have no recollection? I
Did you happen to catch the NBC hour long reality
show of her arrival to Los Angeles? Reality shows
really aren’t your thing? I should have known.
Perhaps you’ve been busy re-reading the Baker/Hamilton
Iraq Study Group recommendations–oh, wait you said
you don’t like reality shows. Well, in any case let me
catch you up, girl.
The special starts in Spain, just as the Beckhams are
finishing up shooting their very risque spread for W.
(No, not that W. Please pay attention this time.)
Victoria has to come to Los Angeles, with her makeup
artist and hairdresser in tow, to prepare for her
That basically means she has to hire a personal
assistant for herself, buy a mansion( she had planned on that),
and get a valid driver’s license (poor thing had no idea
she had to do this until she got pulled over and
discovered her European license was not gonna cut it. Who knew?)
Those pesky aliens, I know, Condi.
Anyway, hillarity ensues as Victoria (Secret Service Name: Posh Spice)
goes to the DMV, puts Perez Hilton in his place, and
learns how to throw a baseball. The segment where she meets her socialite
Beverly Hills neighbors is priceless. These women have
had more work done to them than the reports of WMD in
Iraq. (Oh, now you get it. Funny, right?)
Advance word was we were all supposed to hate her,
since Posh is much reviled in the UK–confirm that
with Tony Blair, he’s not busy these days–as a hauty,
humorless, robotic, anorexic, rhymes with rich (as
they used to say about Nancy Reagan).
Well, surprise, surprise, she’s the best thing to hit
American television and America since the early
episodes of “Absolutely Fabulous” originally aired on
Condi, how can I describe Posh if you’ve not seen the
NBC reality special documenting her arrival to Los
Angeles? Here’s my best shot:
She’s got Anna Nicole’s tenuous hold on reality–but
she’s sober; Kathy Griffin’s wit, and determined self
promotion–but she’s on the A list; Donatella Versace’s
high heels go with everything and everywhere lifestyle –but
her native tongue is English.
They don’t call her Posh for nothing.
The conceit of American culture is that the rich and
famous are just like you and me. Posh, refreshingly,
shows us otherwise. (Of course, so did Scooter Libby,
but you already knew that one.)
So I say, move over Obama girl and Guiliani girl.
Victoria Beckham is in the house, and “that’s major!”
Ignore her at your own peril.