Meeting the Spices
I interviewed the Spice Girls for eTalk and MTV UK during the press conference yesterday before their performance in Vancouver. Check it out on etalk.ctv.ca tonight! We have exclusive quivering footage! And while nothing will ever top sitting in the Great Hall at Hogwarts, being with the Spices, standing a foot from Posh and feeling her judging eyes on my bright blue tights was as trippy an experience as there ever was.
Unlike Joaquin Phoenix, the Spice Girls do not disappoint.
So we were waiting in the media area, having been warned repeatedly of ground rules by a very fierce publicist. The room was packed – print press, tv press, GMTV from the UK, the BBC, super fan Japanese journalists representing the Hello Kitty contingent… the nervous energy was palplable. And then they strode in, Victoria leading the way.
They are exactly as you think they are. The first thing out of Scary’s mouth was – why can’t we sit? Aren’t there any chairs?
TV press interviews were shot with the girls standing against the photo wall, print press at round tables with plush chairs. How much do you love that they came in complaining?
After that, it was all girly giggles. They gathered round arm in arm: Posh, then Mel B, Geri in the middle, Baby, and Sporty making up the other end.
Victoria was wearing a black dress, bows on the shoulders, very demure – almost office like. And black Louboutin peeptoes. In person, she is thin. Undeniably thin. But… don’t hate me for saying it… not five alarm emergency thin. Not, say, as thin as Kate Bosworth, or even Jennifer Connelly. It didn’t gross me out. And I kept looking at her skin, searching for those acne bumps everyone keeps talking about. I was pretty close, gossips, and her skin is fine. And I’m sorry to have to tell you – she’s actually a lot prettier in person. In fact, she looks like a person. Decidedly less harsh, the nose doesn’t resemble so much a ski jump, soft features, over tanned, and very, very bitchy.
Every inch a bitch. My kind of bitch. The kind of bitch who is aware of every woman in the room and needs to know who is prettier, who is skinnier, and who is better dressed. But of course no one is skinnier or better dressed.
I was wearing a black hooded jumper over blue Wolford tights and black satin slingback heels with bows on the ankles. She gave me a very measured once over and said – Well! Don"t think she approved of the bright blue tights...
Getting dismissed by Victoria Beckham is almost as amazing as getting dismissed by Anna Wintour. Click here for a refresher.
Mel B is the tallest of the lot. She is as loud and as brash as she was on Dancing With the Stars. With a rumble to her voice that you can feel when she’s talking. She and Victoria whisper often – a secret conversation no one is ever privy to. They did it several times during every interview with almost every outlet. And there’s a way Mel does it that makes it obvious she wants you to know she’s being rude, she doesn’t care if you think she’s being rude, and even further, she wants you to know that she thinks YOU are being rude by watching her being rude. It’s quite a gift.
As for Geri – the shortest. Little little tiny. So thin. But in a hard, determined way. She worked for it and it shows. She was wearing a gorgeous white turtleneck cable knit sweater dress with tan boots, easily the best outfit of the night. Hair tumbled around her shoulders, glowing skin…but definitely sun lines, the cutest button nose, and a super sassy smile. She speaks with a throaty rasp that sounds like cigarettes. How Coco Chanel would sound but not English. Geri is the most fun. Always quick with a fiery response. Also the one who’d be quickest to brush you off. This is a woman who doesn’t have “time” for things.
Baby is, of course, so cute. There is a random rumour circulating around Vancouver today that Baby stormed off the stage and had a huge scrap with Sporty – that she pulled her ponytail and the two had to be separated by bodyguards. It came from the radio. The radio is always full of sh*t. In my Spice World, Baby couldn’t hurt a measly Tom Cruise. She has big eyes and big cheeks and answers every question first with an “Oh” – her mouth widening in a perfect circle like a lollipop. She also has the best blonde hair extensions, like, ever. Bouncy beautiful curls that don’t look cheap. Why are the Lilos and the Chicken Fried Stupids and the Ebolas not capable of this? Not to mention Ken Paves?
Then there’s Sporty. Sporty was closest to me. She had great breath. And a really wide mouth. And an inch of glitter blue eye shadow laid on so thick I wanted to touch it and see if it peeled off like a bandaid. Sporty of course is all about the zen. Grabbed the first opportunity to tell me about her dressing room and the assortment of teas it’s been stocked with. And something about a zenny zen peace peace water foundation. Which is when she lost me. I’m like – seriously dude, Alanis did India in the 90s.
So this is how the Spices roll – after their tv interviews came still photos in front of the photo wall. You will love this. Out of nowhere an army of Gays comes charging into the room, all dressed in white smocks, with brushes and hair spray canisters at the ready, charged with touch ups before posing. We were killing ourselves laughing at the spectacle.
As the Gay Army receded, Posh became Posh. She ceased smiling. She ceased LIVING. She turned into The Posh and worked it for the cameras. That moment is now branded into my brain.
You’d think that was the best part until David Beckham walked in. Snuck in. Not many people noticed at first, but after the last frame, Victoria made a beeline for him, almost skipping to him.
Beckham Porn in the flesh! At the risk of sounding crass, I.Lost.My.sh-t.
She wrapped her arms around him, he pulled her in for a big hug, one hand on her ass. They pecked. And then somehow he ended up in a chair with her on his lap, whispering things. Hopefully dirty things. And his hand was on her thigh. And he was wearing ratty jeans and ratty boots and a white wrinkly shirt open at the collar and if I were her I would have sucked on his collar bone. Only she was called over for print media so he let her go but not before she kissed him again and then he stayed to watch, occasionally glancing over at his wife, all while showing some random bloke whatever he had on his blackberry.
Cutest – when the girls had to switch tables for their second round of interviews, David walked across the room, found another seat, and positioned himself from a better vantage point to watch his wife in action, leaning forward elbow on his knee, chin propped on his hand, an indecipherable smile playing on his lips.
When the second half of print interviews was over, the girls were once again called to the photo wall. Let me insert here that total print interviews and tv interviews could not have taken more than 15 minutes each. Max.
But wouldn’t you know it, the Gay Army reappeared, fluttering around the girls for more photos. Powdering, fussing, dusting, gushing… am now obsessed with the Gay Army. These are the things you live for, you know?
And then they were gone. Victoria joined David who was loitering by the door and the next time I saw him he was in a private box bopping to the music during the concert. Near the end, he was holding one of his sleepy boys and swaying back and forth. I hate her for having him. I love him for having her. I worship them for having each other.
Don’t forget to watch tonight on eTalk.
Photos from Splash