Seriously, for a woman in her early forties whilst all the other Hollywood debutantes lose their dewy sheen of youth post twenty nine, you work it hard. Let's forget the Desperate Housewives phenom for a second, and just focus on you crashing your pretty T Bird into a phone pole and hitting the gas pedal in CFM stilettos. That pin straight platinum bob! That navy blue jumpsuit! Even that pointy coned corset top Gaultier fashioned for your Blonde Ambition was pretty damn cool. Your latest album is Confessions on a Dancefloor, and I'm ogling the music video on your Myspace page. Madonna, you are so cool. That scene with you walking in tune with the beat in that badass black leather bomber and skinny jeans is just divine.
You keep ribbing on your crazy youth, but please don't! We all know that popping out of a big cake and hitting the ground in your white lace wedding gown was your idea, and we love you for it. Sure, you had to make everybody think you hit your vulgar low point in the early nineties, but subs and doms the world over appreciated it. Burning crosses? Just brilliant, Madge. You had the world wrapped around your blinged-out pinky finger. You were my first strong female figure to look up to, after Michelle Kwan's sweet little figure skating smile, I could instead by hypnotized by your crazy outfits and wild antics. Maybe I can blame you for the way I am today. Oh Madonna, those were good days.
That whole reinvention thing too, makes my stony heart go a flutter. Material Girl to Dominatrix Girl to Nirvana Girl to Goth Girl and everything in between! I wish I could achieve your level of perfect blondeness, sport those bleached-out locks with the same panache. You shapeshifter, you chameleon, you so perfectly in tune with the indiosyncrasies of pop culture (with a clunker here and there, but you are so terribly and charmingly human, after all): you entertain me so. I will rail against those parental watch groups, those Christian lobbyists, who have tried to crush you and only succeeded in driving you even higher up the food chain.
Your controversy is as variable as your hair color. I can only aspire to the same.
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