Hair today, gone tomorrow? (Learning to Fly - Victoria Beckham)

Member Name: nikkisly

Product:	Learning to Fly - Victoria Beckham
Date:	02/11/01 (3682 review reads)
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He's a stubborn old cuss, my father. Opinionated, set in his ways and growing more and more like Victor Meldrew with every passing day. Unfortunately, so is his daughter. Which means that we argue. A lot. And today's argument between us has been on the subject of "David Beckham's haircut."

Father fails to see why everyone seems to be obsessed by Beckham's hair. Why any change of style makes the front page of every newspaper. Why barbers are begging the man to grow it again before they all go bankrupt. Actually, it's a mystery to me too, but I tend to be a bit more tolerant than Dad and, haircuts apart, I happen to feel that there are worse role models for young men than David Beckham. He is a happily married, clean living family man who works hard to represent his country at sport's highest level and, if he wants to wear a pair of his wife's knickers or prance around in a skirt, then surely that's his own business. Sadly, though, the Beckham's don't have the luxury of privacy, as their every waking act is seized upon, chewed up and spat out in tabloid headlines by the media.

Is the publicity intrusive or do they actively encourage it? Six of one and half a dozen of the other I'd say - and the latest fuel to the fire is "learning to fly" (sic) by Victoria Beckham, a.k.a Posh Spice.

"This is the real Victoria, standing up for herself, her husband David and their little boy Brooklyn" reads the flyleaf. And, as you read the book, three things become obvious about pop's princess elect. The first thing is that Ms. Beckham is no rocket scientist. In fact, there are definite similarities to Diana, ("thick as a plank") Princess of Wales. Yet the overriding impression throughout the book is that Victoria (not Vicky, please!) is being honest rather than trying to be clever. Nothing she's achieved has come naturally - she's had to work hard for everything.
Which leads us conveniently into point two. The author has a chip on her shoulder the size of a King Edward. Here was an overweight, outcast of a teenager, plagued by severe acne, with a younger sister who was cuter, and more talented by far. Ostracised by her peers because she wasn't 'cool' and because her parents lifestyle was just a little too outwardly flamboyant, she had to fight for everything and she's damn proud of herself for winning. This book is a thumbing of the nose at those who said she'd never succeed, like the dance-school teacher who consistently placed her out of sight at the back of the chorus line because she was too fat. It's not, however, a gloating 'nose thumbing' - more an "if I did it, then YOU can too, if you hold onto the dream and work hard enough."

Point number three is Posh's overwhelming love for and dependence on her family - they seem to be the only people in the world who know the real Victoria (as opposed to Posh Spice or Mrs Beckham) and the only ones she can trust not to betray her. Home is the one place where she can relax and be herself, without having to put on her public face.

Oh, I liked this book. I liked it a lot, although strangely Victoria and David Beckham didn't interest me at all before I read it. I did read Andrew Morton's vicious expose of the woman (only because it was a Christmas gift) and despised him for writing it - he did a real hatchet job on the poor lass. This book tells virtually the same story, but obviously from a completely different angle.

Perhaps Posh is neurotic. But then, if thousands of people regularly chanted that they hoped your baby died of cancer, if you received death threats and if your closest friends betrayed you, then you might be a little neurotic too. Maybe she is empty headed, obsessed by fashion, a spoiled little rich girl who throws tantrums when she doesn't get her own way. That is how the media p
ortray her after all, and there's no smoke without fire - or is there?

Posh in her own words is a lot different from front page Posh. She's got a delightful sense of humour for a start and she's not above poking fun at herself. She has a husband who "turns her spine to custard", a baby who pukes on her expensive outfits and, in her eyes, she is the luckiest girl in the world. There's something about the Posh in "learning to fly" that makes her appear very likeable, something that sweeps aside her glitzy, glamourous image revealing a little - girl - lost who seems to spend a lot of time in toilets. An insecure, frightened and, dare I say, occasionally even humble woman who, it seems, has truly suffered for her art.

Mrs Beckham takes us from her early childhood, through the Spice Girls, beyond her meeting with and wedding to David,to the present day - and she does it with style. I'm willing to bet that Scary, Sporty, Baby and Ginger would all tell different versions of the fairytale but this is Victoria's account and it's a very worthwhile read. It includes four sections of photographs, the majority of which are 'family album' shots - far more endearing and intimate than publicity pictures. And it sets the record straight on her love life before David, eating disorders, health scares, Man.Utd., and much, much more.

It's a very upfront book, as if Victoria is telling us this is the real me, like it or not. Maybe she's setting herself up for ridicule, but to me she was displaying the vulnerability that her opulent lifestyle disguises. More maligned and misunderstood than monster, the golden - if rather gormless - girl of pop has truly come of age, displaying a hitherto unimagined talent.

Put aside your prejudices and buy it - or at least, borrow it from the library.It's a long time since I stayed up all night reading a book, but,believe me, there's more to '
bimbo' Beckham than you could ever imagine. This is a book that may just surprise you - it certainly surprised me.

"learning to fly" (sic) - Victoria Beckham - Penguin, Michael Joseph - ISBN 0 718 14491 0

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