Justify Her Love

Justify Her Love

Oh, Madonna, please don’t be a vain, delusional monster who actually
believes the barely legal stud boys you date might truly be interested
in you.  If so, your legacy risks becoming as absurd as the traffic
cones implanted into your cheeks.  If not, you will continue to be one
of the coolest chicks who ever lived.

I’ve always had mixed feelings about Madonna.  On one hand, I’ve
found her a needy little snot who’s badgered us into giving her the
adoration she could never win from her papa.  On the other hand, I’ve
bought most of her albums and appreciate a dame who not only dominated
the culture like she said she would, but outlasted all of her peers.

But what I’ve dug most about Madge is her “anything you can do, I can
do better” attitude that’s pushed her to knock down double standards. 
If Michael Jackson could grab his crotch, so could she.  If ghetto
fabulous guy rappers could objectify women through the male gaze, she
could, too.  If Mick Jagger can rock himself into the home, well, so can

And now, she has accomplished the one feat no one would ever have
believed a woman could.  She’s become a passé, increasingly unalluring
old person who still gets to sleep with people half her age because
she’s rich and powerful.  At 52, Madonna has transgressed the final
frontier of male privilege and conceit: trophy dating.

First there was A-Rod, the Yankee third baseman who allegedly dumped
his hot wife and considered taking up Kabbalah for Madonna, seventeen
years his senior.  Next came 23-year-old Brazilian model Jesus Luz, then
a couple dates with a Spanish H&M model 27 years younger than her,
and now, she’s allegedly seeing a 33-year-old choreographer.

We usually give old rich men enough credit to realize the young
biddies they date are only in it for the money and/or fame.  Even when
we pity these guys for holding onto their lost youth and sensuality, we
envy their access to fresh-faced hotties forced to caress their balding
heads and sagging torsos in order to access the cash.

‘I can buy sexy, young companionship,’ these men might tell us. 
‘I’ll give these gals a career, a life of luxury or their fifteen
minutes of fame.  In exchange, I shall devour their youthful eroticism.’

Why can’t rich, powerful women be like rich, powerful men who offer
young lovers a giant step towards their futures in exchange for some
company?  Why can’t a woman like Madonna enjoy this peculiar consequence
of power our culture so admires?

Personally, I can barely carry on a conversation with a guy in his
early twenties, let alone date him.  I can’t imagine hitting middle age
only to chase after dippy boys who just happen to be built like brick
shithouses.  And if I were unfortunate enough to divorce the father of
my children and man I love, the last thing I’d do is bed Latin American
supermodels who barely speak English.  But, as I found out somewhere
between fingerless gloves and attempting to vogue, I’m not Madonna.

Yet, I wonder why her dating life has turned her into such a joke. 
Madonna has built an extraordinary career, lived through two marriages
and raised a family.  She has had enough flings to put ex-flame Warren
Beatty to shame, yet managed to sneak in a couple attempts at romantic
permanency.  Though love has not been as constant as her career, she
seems dead set against holing herself up in an old maid’s cave.

If Madonna wants to use her celebrity to fetch young tail, more power
to her.  If, in her waning years, she wants to have her Rocky Mountain
cheekbones caressed by a succession of twentysomething studs, I say,
don’t tell her to stop.

**Reprinted from Laura K. Warrell's blog Tart&Soul at www.TartandSoul.com.