Who the fuck does Madonna think she is, having fun at – urgh – 56? What a massive cunt. She's pulled some stunts in her time, but being 56 has got to be her cuntiest move yet. How dare she turn up at awards ceremonies and shock and entertain people by not wearing much, like she has for the past 30 years, earning millions of die-hard fans on every continent and riches beyond your wildest dreams? Fifty-fucking-six! Madge! Who even knew that human beings lived so long?
Here is Madonna talking about ageing in 1992. She was 34. "I think that not only do we suffer from racism and sexism and things like that, but we also suffer from ageism; and, that is, once you reach a certain age, you're not allowed to be adventurous, you're not allowed to be sexual, you know? And I think that's rather hideous. I mean a lot of people have said, 'Oh, it's so pathetic, what is she... I hope she's not still doing that in ten years.' I mean who cares? What if I am? Is there a rule? What, are you supposed to just die when you're 40? I mean and that's basically what everybody wants people to do, and I think it's stupid. You're supposed to just put yourself out to pasture? Why? Life is long. People are living to be 100 years old. So I don't get it."
Well yes, actually, Madonna, you were supposed to die at 40, so you deserve all the ageist, sexist vitriol the internet can pour on you. Which, it turns out, for one woman, is an awful lot.
Where shall we start? How about super-prick Piers Morgan telling her, "Yuk. Put it away" during her record-breaking Superbowl performance? Because he's a hot spring chicken, right ladies? I fubbed myself off thinking about him just last night. Or that time Will Smith tweeted a picture of her with the caption "I'm sixty and I know it." Yeah. Good one, Will. Almost as funny as that time you tried to be a rapper. The Daily Mail isn't a fan of Madge either, although God knows they must make enough money out of slagging her off, which is better than doing it out of sheer spite, like the old blokes, I suppose.
Well I'll tell you something: I love Madonna MORE now that she's 56. She is one unapologetic bitch. Even her horse is unapologetic. She says you can kiss her ass if you don't like her, a sentiment illustrated rather effectively by her, um, ass on the Grammy red carpet last Sunday.
I love Madonna because she dresses up as a cheerleader and flashes her minge in a series of cartwheels. There is no right or wrong way to be a woman, you just do what you've got to do and let everyone else get on with it.
Twitter, meanwhile, praised Annie Lennox for ageing the "right" way at the Grammy's. I love Annie and she fucking smashed her performance with Hozier. She turned up in a classy black dress, with the face of a beautiful 60-year-old woman, and let her voice shine, and I admire her greatly. But that's Annie. I love Annie because she can belt out "Must Be Talking to An Angel" wearing a suit on Parkinson. I love Madonna because she dresses up as a cheerleader and flashes her minge in a series of cartwheels. They're different fucking artists. And different fucking women. There is no right or wrong way to be a woman, you just do what you've got to do and let everyone else get on with what they've got to do too. Okay?
Refusal to conform is passé in the young, but truly bold in anyone over 50. I love Madonna for the same reason I love Vivienne Westwood, who, at sprightly 73, still models her own clothes, looks consistently fah-bulous and gives around zero fucks what you think of her. I love Madonna for the same reason that I love that old bird who knocks about Brick Lane in neon raving gear and bright pink hair. I love Madonna for the same reason that I love anyone who refuses to accept society's ideas about who, what or how they should be – and before someone chips in with "but but but she's trying to conform to societal standards of beauty", no, she's not. She looks nothing like the sort of women her age and older who are lauded as being "classy" and "elegant" and "appropriate for their age". I say fuck being "appropriate" anything. Who the fucking fuck wants to be appropriate?
Of Madonna's Grammy fun and games, I saw one woman ask, on social media, "Why does such a high status, talented woman feel the need to try so hard to be sexy?" Hmm, maybe because the thing Madonna is talented at is poking fun at – in her words – other people's "pointless sexual taboos". Which she is still doing. Spectacularly.
Madonna is more important than ever. So long as she continues to piss people off over nothing more than the bits of cloth she chooses to cover (or not cover) herself with, she will remain so. Basic bitches will tell you that you have to be nice to people on the way up because you never know when you might have to ask them for help on the way back down. Madonna knows better. She got to the top and decided she wasn't coming back down. She is top bitch. She won. Her tours are the biggest in town and she's sold more records than any other female recording artist. I can't be bothered to list all her achievements here because they are so numerous. Look it up. If she wants to walk around in her knickers, as Queen of Pop, she's earned the right. I hope she's still doing it at 60. And 70. And if I feel like walking around in stocking suspenders when I'm 56, I fucking well will too.
If you're going to tell Madonna to cardigan-up, tell Iggy Pop to put his ancient tits away, too. I rather like Iggy and I don't find the sight of his 60-year-old naked torso in the least bit offensive. Good for him. He's another one who doesn't care what people think about him. Here he is on cross-dressing: "I'm not ashamed to dress 'like a woman' because I don't think it's shameful to be a woman." He's pals with Madonna, and I can see why. They're clearly cut from the same, skimpy bit of cloth.
And anyway, look. Here's Madonna in a recent photoshoot. She put on a cardigan. She's trying. Her tits are hanging out like a cow waiting to be milked, true, but she made a effort to be "age appropriate". What fucking more do you want?
Previously – There's a New Prudery in Feminism and I Hate It