I was incredibly obsessed with Madonna at an inappropriately young age. I used to carry my cabbage patch cassette player with attached microphone around our apartment complex giving impromptu performances of Burning Up, complete with floor-writhing choreography, to anyone who would listen, or at least stand still long enough. When I was seven I begged my mother to take me to see Madonna's Blonde Ambition Tour. Yeah, the one where she has a little (big, loud, frantic) self-love session in her cone bra on a giant bed. That tour. Somehow my mom, who could quite arguably be the coolest mom ever, agreed to take me and even bought me a special outfit for the occasion. I picked out a hot pink and neon orange pouffy skirt with a matching zip-up hoodie from the local Kids R' Us and rocked it over leggings with alternating, double stacked scrunch socks. I was in heaven.
My Madonna obsession continued through many more years of midnight runs to the Sam Goody to pick up the latest CD, a day in line to be part of the studio audience when she was on MTV's TRL, and two more concerts. Mostly I loved seeing what she would wear day to day. She was a radical style setter, always a year or two before the wave of what was next. She was always creating visual spectacles, incredible videos, working with amazingly talented directors, photographers, and designers.
My Madge-session has cooled off in recent times. I always hoped that Madonna would age gracefully, embracing her vintage status with an edge that would encourage ladies to maintain a sexy elegance in their prime years like the incredible Carmen Dell'Orefice. Instead, she seems to be pumping her face full of restalyne to maintain some modicum of her past wiles. It's a bit disappointing to witness her join the Meg Ryan plumped, ageless, freaky face club. And so, I've lost a bit of interest.
However, my inner seven year old just simply couldn't turn down a friend's invitation to join her at MSG for Madonna's Sticky and Sweet Tour (pictured above) on Monday. I'm excited in spite of my fear that it will be akin to a Broadway revue of her greatest hits performed by Drag Queens. Is that harsh? Well, she'll probably prove me wrong. She's Madonna. She's a friggin' legend. In days past I would have watched her tie her shoes, or paint a room with no questions asked. So, I'm excited. I can't wait to see what the undeniably talented Arianne Phillips has done with the wardrobe. And if nothing else, I'm super jazzed to see Robyn sing Konichiwa Bitches as the opening act. Don't worry, I'll report in full soon enough.
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