I’ll be the first to admit it – I love Britney Spears. It’s sick, I know. Yet I still check Perez Hilton daily just to find out what the latest mess my girl has got herself into. When I found out she’d lost custody of her kids – and to K-Fed, of all people – I immediately ran into the kitchen to inform everyone else of the news. They didn’t really care, aside from a few comments on how ashamed they’d be if they were only famous for once being married to Miss Britney. It was okay, though. I cared enough for everyone.
My love for Brit didn’t use to be this strong. In fact, back in 5th grade or so I was firmly anti-Spears. This was mainly because she was dating Justin Timberlake and I was totally jealous, but I told everyone it was because I disapproved of her showing off her body for money. This stance began to weaken when I learned the dance for Baby One More Time, and crashed to pieces later that year when a few girls stopped me during lunch at summer camp and told me I looked “just like Britney!” From that point on, I was a full-on Britney fan. I looked like her, I could dance like her… maybe someday I could date Justin Timberlake! As the years passed, however, I felt it necessary to hide my love. Jamming to I’m a Slave 4 U just didn’t mesh with my carefully crafted indie rock persona.
Then, suddenly, Britney married K Fed, became a hot mess, and it was okay to love her openly again. It was more than okay, in fact. I was ironic and cynical and hip – the good old days of Britney’s prime were suddenly far away and retro. As Brit popped out babies, guzzled Red Bull, and scarfed down Cheetos, I jammed to Toxic each time my phone rang. Blasting Oops I Did it Again as I drove to school was suddenly something I felt okay about doing with the windows down.
When news broke of her divorce, I was thrilled. I called friends from home to share the joy. My girl was going to make a comeback, I was sure of it. But then… she didn’t, so much. Things got worse. Paris Hilton, flashing lady parts, shaving-head kind of worse. Just when I was convinced things couldn’t spiral any further downward for her, they totally did. And, well, it might be sadistic to say this, but it was kind of awesome. See, here’s the thing. If Britney was just continuing to lose everything and make a total wreck of her personal life, I think I’d feel bad. But somehow, despite her made personal drama, she’s managed to find time to record a new single. And in spite of her shameful, horrific performance at the VMAs, Gimme More is currently the number one download on iTunes. I’ve heard it on the radio, at Cornell frat parties, and in my friends’ spur of the moment a capella renditions. Love Britney or hate her, people are talking. Somehow, she’s still an incredibly viable pop commodity. That’s the enigma of Britney Spears – and that’s why she’s still my girl (though I certainly hope we no longer look like each other).