Britney, circa 2005

It's been six years since ...Baby One More Time was released in January of 1999. MTV, tired of grunge rock, decided to push the iconic music video of an attractive teenager gyrating in a Catholic school girl outfit, and history was made, securing Spears a spot on the airwaves and on the bedroom walls of young girls and sexually frustrated teenage boys alike. Her much publicized declaration that she would remain a virgin until marriage (and subsequent heavily publicized deflowering by one Justin Timberlake) made her seem at first very girl-next-door, the perfect idol for grade schoolers who would lip sync and dance to her songs in talent shows while donning sparkly tank tops and white pants.

At the same time, she shockingly bared her navel and danced suggestively, earning the condemnation of PTA moms worried that she would turn their Susan or Michelle into a promiscuous, pole dancing, python toting, utterly poisoned slut.

Spears walked the fine, fine line between virgin and whore, biblical Mary and Heidi Fleiss.

In the beginning, I couldn't help but love her. Findng Baby One More Time on Kazaa, the legendary* opening chords, with her voice soulfully churning out "oh baby, baby" thrice before launching into a heartfelt regret over love lost, it just brings me back to intermediate school, six years prior, when Backstreet Boys were still the main hearthrobs of all my friends, and the music we listened to was a pristinely commercial, unthreatening brand of whiteness and Wonder Bread. It was a more innocent time, as hindsight tends to romanticize all memories. I remember watching a particular talent show performance where a boy, backed up by a troupe of stiffly dancing girls, performed as Britney, wearing a miniskirt over his chicken legs and stuffing down the front of his top.

I have only pleasant memories of her here, she being a pop princess in rivalry with "Genie in a Bottle" Christina Aguilera; she was the girl who I wanted to be, but could never be, and in this way I suppose she caused me pain in that her image made me feel displaced and conflicted. I never worshipped her, but I found her music pleasant, and who would not admit as much anonymously? There was never any real substance or "authenticity", but this never kept a roomful of middle schoolers from dancing and making a cheesy slap-across-the-face movement along all the same.

And then I turned. She was burned at the stake, and constantly brought up in conversation as an example of all that was wrong with music, with culture, an evil, suffocating force on the innocent, unblemished minds of our young. Hell, she was probably even used by terrorists to justify their hate of our capitalist, hyper-sexualized culture. No cool kid in seventh grade would ever admit to liking or listening to Britney Spears; they were all too blase, too in-the-know for that, they liked Avril Lavigne and her ersatz hardcore regalia, or the pop philosophy of Michelle Branch. They seemed more real, authentic, angry, whatever quality it was, it was merely a superficial departure from Britney, stripped of her reputation, put down as a dirty skanky slutty piece of human filth. (Later, this label would be applied to Aguilera during her chaps** and baby oil phase.) I, of course, the fish swimming along with the tide, would declare my distaste for her as well, though I admit I secretly still danced along to Stronger in front of the bathroom mirror.

These days, Spears is no longer the queen, or even the princess, she's a tabloid relic, another acne ridden, out of shape piece of pitiful white trash. She inspires malicious glee rather than self doubt and awe, and her recent marriage to Keven Federline makes even her worst critics extremely glad she made him sign a prenup. But I've also come to appreciate Britney Spears for what she is: a figure in the entertainment industry. So what if she has no talent, and even her looks are failing her? All of these shortcomings merely make her rise more puzzling, her personality more human. For what it's worth, I find Britney Spears entertaining, and no one can deny the sheer, exploitive pop genius of the Toxic music video, nor deny that they don't occasionally linger on the tabloid headlines on whether she's gained weight or walked into a restaurant in flip flops and cutoffs. Her much maligned musical efforts are really never that bad; it tends to be the backlash speaking. So let's have some support for Britney, our infamous Mouseketeer, maybe she has made you laugh or smile, so why not for once, drop the double standard*** and admit she's actually pretty... entertaining.

* - maybe this is overreaching.
** - seatless pants, often seen on cowboys, and in gay strip clubs.
*** - the double standard I am referring to is that guys can sleep around and be totally The Man, and girls will invariably be labeled as walking wastebins of STDs.