Don’t put your daughter on the stage, Mrs Spears

Britney Spears has just been named the worst-dressed celebrity for dressing like an “over-the-hill Lolita”.

She is sixteen
going on thirteen,
in a tight school uniform
dressed to kill.

Pigtails pulled tight
she is dancing, dancing
like she wants to be dirty,
is enjoying the old men’s thrill.

Soon she will be wallowing
deep in misery,
used in her videos
then cast aside.

Seeking empowerment
in her early twenties
all she will know
is that virgin bride

is a look that lasts
– in terms of pop video –
for a couple of years
before becoming passé

so she’ll up the ante
in clothes more scanty
but all her svengalis
will do is say:

“she’s a worn-out trollop,
she’s badly dressed.
An over-the-hill Lolita;
Britney Spears, j’accuse!”

before cruising the stage schools,
parades and pageant shows
in the hope of finding teenagers
to use and abuse.

She is now twenty four
going on middle age,
crippled by ignorance,
just trying to make a life.

If she’s a Lolita of any sort,
she’s one of their making.
It’s a peculiar way
of twisting the knife.