The queen of, like, everything
Rihanna has sealed her status as a role model for the smartphone generation, writes Judith Woods
THERE is a theory that, like the Great Wall of China, Rihanna can be seen partying from outer space.
Oh look, there is RiRi, kissing German footballers in Brazil! And going head to head with Pelé! And putting the nose-ring, carmine-red tsunami pout frighteners on poor little Mario Götze, whose only crime was to stay up past his bedtime to win the World Cup!
Apparently, the Barbadian singer broke Fifa etiquette — no, not by flashing her leather bra at the Rio stadium — by touching the trophy. Only the winners of the tournament and heads of state are allowed to place their hands on football’s most glittering prize.
Such an infraction of sporting etiquette probably caused a bit of aggro at Sepp Blatter’s breakfast table.
But, in truth, as la Instagram dame of the selfie-regarding generation, Rihanna is, like, the queen of everything and a winner, so normal rules do not, like, apply?
No event is an event these days without Rihanna, 26, sashaying up in a less-is-more ensemble of feathers or chain mail or just tats.
Last month, she shimmered in a Swarowski “naked” gown accessorised with a nude thong, which pretty much put the assy in sassy and made global headlines.
By accident, on the 4th of July, she wore an exquisite sheer red lace dress and Manolo Blahniks and looked confusingly classy. But that was so last fortnight and the rude girl (her own epithet) is making hay and money while the sun shines.
Counter-intuitively, perhaps, she is both less shocking and less irritating than Miley Cyrus, whose look-at-me twerking and sexual posturing grate far more on the nerves.
Maybe it’s because we’ve never quite forgiven Cyrus for turning her back on wholesome Hannah Montana and doing unspeakable things with a foam finger at an MTV award ceremony this time last year.
Or maybe there is just something more sinuously graceful about Rihanna, who wears clothes
She may be head-lining the 21st century cult of personality, but her followers are legion
— highly provocative clothes — in a playful, knowing way.
And everywhere she goes there is pictorial evidence. The birth of her niece, Majesty (see, I told you she was de facto royalty) saw the Diamonds singer posing topless with the newborn, the way you do.
There is something unnerving to us parents, up in the cheap seats, craning our necks to see Rihanna centre stage, so assiduously documenting her marijuana smoking, her clothes, her moods, her body.
She may be head-lining the 21st century cult of personality, but her followers are legion. Every girl on the planet with access to a smartphone is at it, larking about with friends, experimenting with makeup, trying on different personalities — smouldering, sexy, confident, confrontational — for size.
Whether we like it or not, young people are living their life in pictures. We can only hope (fingers crossed) that once they grow bored of mugging for the camera, once new media becomes old media, they will turn the lens away from themselves and on the world around them.
It might be fun and fabulous right now, but in the long run, selfie idolatry makes for a dangerous religion. — © The Daily Telegraph, London