So rarely does one spread of snappy-snaps get so much press, owing to the fact that Madonna’s ‘pparently bumming the fella-me-boy in them. And as much as we j’adore slash even quite fancy Steven Klein, the gent who took the snappy-snaps, we’ve decided to pop our critical bonnet on (at a playful angle, naturally) and declare them a bit whatever. Whatever really, even.
It’s supposed to be a Mrs Robinson-esque scenario, see. Inspired, not. And Jesus – for that is the male model-ette’s name – is the object of Madonna’s dirty fuck-me routine. So it’s, like, art immitating life immitating art immitating life immitating art immating life. Also known as, ‘the W magazine PR department is getting a big fancy bonus this year. Maybe even a funny tickle’.
But don’t let us be the judge of them, even though we are and indeed have already judged-past-tense. Take a golly-google-gander for yourselves after the sponsored-by-Cadbury’s break…
There’s more where that little lot came from, here. Toodle-pip.