...HIT ME BRITNEY ONE MORE TIME

written by Raminta Paukstyte

Miss Britney Spears turned 30 on Friday (December the 2nd) and with it the desparing realisation that time doesn't stand still, looking back how rapidly and suddenly idols change. Britney used to be the goddess for many teenage girls but times change and princesses do also. Sadly but true - she is not that pop princess anymore.

I used to love Britney. Absolutely adore her, actually. Those big eyes, blonde wavy hair - I am sure there was something in her innocent look that every teen girl tried to seek. And there was nothing wrong with that.

I kept buying magazines just because of her every time I found a little picture of the girl who did it again inside of them... I was proud of myself knowing word for word (as I've learnt them by heart!) and kept singing every single song she sang, even though I didn't know English then.

Then there's  even more embarrassing (?!) memory that I tried to do my hair in the way not a girl, not yet a woman did and looked for clohes similar to those she wore, so that I could look like her. All in all: that was all rather positive impact she gave to me.

It's not even because she got older or something that we stopped admiring the girl next door look. We don't actually need that innocence anymore - sadly or not - it is no longer attractive in this sexualized society we live in. Then it comes to judgment - what do we have attractive today?

There's no such a thing as 'innocence'.  We have Rihanna, pop princess, who sings about how badly she wants sex and that chains and whips excite her...

We also have Lady Gaga, whose music video clips could surely compete with pornography and American culture "beauty", music awards' winner Nicky Minaj, whose plastic surgery-shaped ass for a public eye is much more important than she and her music is. Some artists,  to be honest, actually deserve much more to be nominated and awarded for  the best bump of the year rather than the best album of the year, but, anyway...

This is where it all goes. What is wrong with that? I'd rather be kicked and misunderstood but would ask the new, next generation's Britney to hit us, babies, one more time, because I'd never like to see my future-teen-daughter seeking to look like one of those new, sexualized pop princesses. 

Britney Spears performing ...baby one more time

Personal Fashion Memoir: "The Higher the Heel, the Closer to Heaven"

It started when I was a little girl gloating over the gorgeous dresses on the television screen, when I first saw Miss Universe beauty contest. For somebody else it would have been the actual dress, but for me it was more about that subtle and inspiring feminine walk, which my bittersweet memory muscled in on. I’ve always wanted to be that girl - confident and beautiful - ever since. I felt it was something about the footwear.  And now, I know, that it was all about the heels... 

by Raminta Paukstyte

Falling in love with them came gradually, though. Switching from the black leather steel toe boots to high-heels wasn’t easy for a 16-year-old-punk me. Something radical should have happened, but there was nothing - just a dramatic, ultimate fashion contradiction. I started attending a modelling school at the age of 16 and here the confession continues...

That was the first time in my life I was not sure what I was doing, but, I absolutely loved it. We were taught various things, including dancing, acting, posing, that helped me to obtain and develop self-confidence in the role of model, although I found catwalk lessons really challenging sometimes. In the very beggining, it was quite embarrassing to appear on a catwalk with such a confidence as if you were a diva (making sure everybody believed you actually were), while everyone was watching you, especially while other girls secretly laughed at me. 

I knew some of them did. There was even a reason for that. I was the only girl in the group who never stopped wearing military leather steel toe boots. The thing is, I never wanted to be the girl next door. I thought I’d rather look cool. I’m sure I did. 

I couldn’t tell anyone and kept hiding the fact that I was carrying heels with me to my classes, so that I wouldn’t lose, what I thought, was my own identity. That’s how my very first experience with high-heels started. Poorly and cautiously. 

"I couldn't tell anyone and kept hiding the fact that I was carrying heels with me to my classes, so that I wouldn't lose, what I thought, my own identity was"

I would never have guessed I would be soon running about the busy streets of one of the fashion capitals; running in circles from one metro to another, catching and breathing hot air from the buses. holding a map in my hands and, at the same time, having twelve-centimetre-high platform wedges on, when thermometer showed no less than 33 degress. That all happened after only a year.

I lived and worked as an assistant in a modelling agency in Milan. This city made my reinvention possible. Living there became an endless catwalk that worked even stronger than a scary mirror hall. It didn’t even matter that italians were already shorter without me even wearing heels. “I’m living in Milan“ - I kept repeating to myself.  I became aware of that and didn’t go back to my teenage look again. 

Now my boyfriend comments, with reproach, “Why do you nearly always wear heels?“ I know that on occasions like this I appear to be an inch taller than him. However, that doesn’t stop me wearing my beloved platform shoes. I love them... both. And why shouldn’t I? I am not yet Miss Universe, but I am, at least, confident and beautiful.