It’s fair to say that the last twelve months have been stellar for Beyoncé. Shortly after performing another show-stopping set at the super bowl, she electrified the world with Lemonade, a twelve song visual album inspired by her relationship struggles and life experience as a young black woman.
Come to think of it, when was the last time Beyoncé had a bad year? I’m pretty sure that the worst thing that’s ever happened to her is almost falling over once. Don’t get me wrong, I like Beyoncé, but I wouldn’t say that I love her. I’m certainly not one of those ‘Beyoncé Gays’ – you know, the ones who put on her live performances at pre-drinks and lip-sync to Love On Top on Snapchat. I don’t caption my Instagram snaps with things like #ADivaIsAFemaleVersionOfAHustler. I suppose I’m somewhere in between total ambivalence and Alexandra Burke shuddering in a gold maxi dress at The X Factor final.
Although I’m not joining the ‘Beyhive’ just yet, I can admit that Beyoncé is a world-class musician and an excellent role model. But not everyone agrees. To some, nothing that Beyoncé does will ever be good enough. Scientists have claimed that cockroaches will be one of the only creatures to survive a nuclear apocalypse. But I’d like to add another group to that list: people who think Beyoncé is pure evil.
These people sit behind their computer screens and carefully scrutinise whether or not Beyoncé carried her child. They criticise her for speaking too much about racial injustice but also claim that she wants to be white and bleaches her skin. I know this because I used to be one of these disturbed individuals on a mission to find Beyoncé’s sinister dark side. I watched the video of her dismissing her assistant on the red carpet and gleefully exclaimed “Ha! I knew she was controlling and unlikeable!” I even used to say “She’s just too perfect, it’s really annoying!”
But then I had a brainwave: it doesn’t matter if Beyoncé is controlling. If anything, this makes her a more committed artist and a total boss lady. Wondering if Beyoncé is evil or not about as productive as questioning whether the bread served aboard the Titanic was gluten-free.
Women in the public eye face ludicrous expectations. They should be fuckable and sassy while also saving themselves for marriage. We want them to be both impossibly unattainable and down to earth. Outspoken yet subservient. Confident yet humble.
So Bey, I’m afraid it’s no longer enough to be talented, beautiful and inspiring. None of this matters if we can’t imagine ourselves watching Gogglebox with you while nibbling on a choc-ice. We want answers to the important questions. For instance, do you prefer crunchy or smooth peanut butter? Have you ever eaten a Starburst with a little bit of the wrapper still attached? Are you a Big Mac or a Chicken Legend kind of gal? Sadly there is one question that I can confidently answer without hesitation: will people ever stop digging to find Beyoncé’s rotten core? Probably not.
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