The more I read about Victoria Beckham, the more I tend to admire her.
She has grown in stature over the years and has transformed herself from perhaps the least talented of the Spice Girls to the most accomplished of her band members, but in a totally different sphere.
She has perfected her kind of elegance to the point where she now reigns supreme to a new generation of followers – and in time might even scale the heights of iconic sublimity.
Her fashion flare is acknowledged internationally, and has the potential much beyond its empirical stage. She has proved to the world that everything she touches turns to gold, and has become a celebrity through hard work and a fiery ambition that knows no respite or boundaries.
Some would say, however, ambition endangers life – but with Victoria it has uplifted her spirit and given birth to a creativity long subdued.
She’s a good mother and a supportive wife who has moulded and tutored her husband in the finer things in life, and stuck by him when despondency loomed.
She is photographed doing many things, but is rarely pictured smiling or eating food – and is in no rush to buck the trend, she has admitted.
Asked why she’s so seldom snapped with a smile on her face, she said, ‘I don’t know. I smile in family pictures. Being pursued by paparazzi every time I walk down the street, I will look daft breaking a smile all the time.’
She also told the New York Times that she had no desire or compulsion to be made to look younger, ‘like I am twenty-five. I am thirty-nine. I don’t have any issues with my age’.
During the photoshoot for the interview, the photographer suggested including a plate of grapes in among the fashion sketches strewn about her. She declined. ‘We don’t want anyone to know I eat. Why ruin that?’ she joked.
The Spice Girl, now a successful fashion designer, said she had never intended to turn her marriage to David Beckham into a ‘brand’.
‘It seems that everybody wants to make a brand,’ she explained. ‘Ours happened organically. The most important thing is each other and the children.’
A little bird tells me that she has matured in wisdom and that the future augers well for her. The woman who never smiled is beginning to mellow, and gain her a string of well wishers.
I for one, who used to parody her so-called poshness, now consider myself a recent convert to her camp.