![]() Proving that she was not about to succumb to the sophomore slump, Oops!…I Did It Again was a massive hit in every territory that it was released, including the UK. It felt very much as if Britney Spears was in control – and in the loop – at all times. In that sense, Oops!…I Did It Again is immaculately realised, with several outfits that undoubtedly caused a particular demographic immense pleasure, but none which felt like they were exploiting their teenage star. However, this was still a point in her career where she was treading the line between prick-tease and role model. Britney’s red bodysuit is the defining look from the video. Even with such choice styling, the aesthetic retained a sense of cool and looked like it belonged in 2000. Instead, it’s applied in the loosest sense to the troupe of dancers, with their tin foil outfits paying homage to vintage sci-fi. The alien-theme could so easily have ended up looking kitsch. The best thing about the concept is that it never dictates the visuals. Now one of the most recognisable people in the world, the Oops!…I Did It Again video takes that one step further and places Britney on her own planet. Having experienced a meteoric rise to fame, she was no longer the girl next door. ![]() It pushes everything up to the next level and acts as a perfect metaphor for Britney Spears’ current position. As for the likes of Jordan and Lady Victoria Hervey: they are figures from the world of pantomime, bottom-shelf public commodities to be used and discarded at will.Undoubtedly, what upped the ante for Oops!…I Did It Again was the music video. ![]() Here, a strange consensus often reigns – it is near-compulsory to deride Minnie Driver, for instance, and Stephen Fry is periodically given a hard time. Some celebrities fade away, others plummet out of public favour, others return to delight us once more – as if swimming on the whimsical tide of public opinion. Whitney Houston, for instance, became involved in a drugs case that was entirely avoidable and which, in US terms, destroyed her credibility. Indeed, sometimes a kind of altitude sickness can prevail, causing the celebrity to become self-destructive. Mariah Carey, notorious for being the kind of star who demands asses' milk in her backstage rider, suffered from "exhaustion" and although she received a vast pay-off from EMI, many were delighted at this come-uppance. When difficult stars (such as Naomi Campbell) are involved, the public satisfaction in their descent is palpable. Then she became our village witch, ready to be ducked in the poisonous pond of public opprobrium. Only a year or so ago, she was a paragon of plain British niceness ("our Kate!" the tabloids cooed, turning her into a kind of millennial Vera Lynn) until she chucked her husband Jim Threapleton, moved on to alpha romeo Sam Mendes, lost weight and started kicking back in Babylon, Los Angeles. Again, it has been proven – like the stock market, celebrity reputations can go down as well as up. Meanwhile, in court, Naomi Campbell won her spat with The Mirror but came out looking broken, her reputation as a vain monster utterly confirmed. Instantly, the papers downgraded her from virgin goddess to vicious megabitch. At the London premiere of her film Crossroads last week, the singer Britney Spears swanned up to the red rope, surrounded by bouncers the size of refrigerators, refusing en passant to sign her autograph for the waiting fans.
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