Now that we’ve calmed down after Kanye’s tanty over Beck winning best album at the Grammys, I think we can safely agree that although Kanye might have some valid points, until he holds his own personal awards ceremony he is not in a position to decide who gets what gong. End of.
All this kerfuffle has distracted us from something else that happens each year at the Grammys: the relentless and constant age-shaming of Madonna. It’s become some sort of sport.
Madge turned up to the ceremony in her usual garb, ie something tight, excruciatingly short and topped off with a pair of unwearable shoes. No real surprises there. Although I did enjoy the Napoleon-slash-Spanish matador vibe of her whole ensemble. She flounced about in her now de rigueur corsetry with boobs proudly on show, legs encased in saucy fishnets. On first glance, most people thought “Nice hat” and went back to their lives.
Then she flashed her backside. At the paparazzi. Who deserve it just as much as that degrading manicam box into which celebs are forced to shove their hands to have their cuticles filmed up close. Moon them both, I say.
Of course, Madonna’s rear wasn’t encased in a comfortable pair of sensible control-top cottontail undies like most women of most ages would wear. Her backside was bare, encased only by some sort of sporty jock strap that worked as a cheek hammock (where can I get one? The lift was extraordinary). Glorious Madge. Glorious 50-something-year-old Madge. Who refuses to put it away.
Cue the naysayers on socials saying Madonna should act her age. These normally rational people, who clearly all now hold a university degree in sitting on their own backsides and having opinions of 140 characters or less, were deeply concerned that Madge really needs a friend right now who’ll be honest and tell her the truth about her clothing choices. Others worried for her children. Some stated that she has more arse than class.
To think an older person wearing revealing clothes can still get folk in a lather, yet when Taylor Swift at the barely-legal-to-drink age of 22 turns up dressing like a 45-year-old movie star no one bats an eye! And that is so sad. Why should anyone be told to act their age when it comes to getting dressed? And as an aside, what on earth does acting your age really mean in this context? I assume the answer is covering it all up. And as Tay would say: shake it off.
I attended a product launch years ago that was hosted by an octogenarian artist who has a history of pulling practical jokes and pranks. Once her speech was done she then proceeded to pour the champagne all over the place, including on herself, then hoik her skirt up to flash her undies too. It was both shocking and joyful.
This moment always serves as a reminder that I wasn’t used to people over a certain age enjoying themselves, their bodies, and just generally mucking about with societal norms. It also showed me what a terrible bunch of conservatives we’ve become. Self-expression is not only for the young.
Telling Madonna what you think she can and can’t wear at her age has a hint of the Kanyes about it. And if we all agree that Yeezus doesn’t have that right to tell someone else who deserves to win, nor do we have the right to tell someone over a certain vintage to dress their age. Isn’t it the same?
Source : TheGuardian
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