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How very, very wrong we were to dismiss insanely prolific celebrity biographer Andrew Morton's "Posh and Becks" out of hand! It turns out that the book contains a trenchant critique, not only of the current celeb-industrial complex, but of the bedrock of the global economy! And also it contains some of the most hideous cliche-stacks ever printed on paper.

There's this:

For years Victoria has worried that she has lived her life as a fake, a fraud waiting to be found out. A woman who intrigues not because she is obviously talented, but because she seems troubled. A woman famous for being famous. So it is a supreme irony that she has truly found what she really, really wants in a place where the false is real and where the look ist he life. As a style icon and a fashionista she is thriving, and, with her edgier European sensibility, she will shine in Hollywood, which, for all its glamour, has rarely set the fashion pace. She has found her true metier as a fashion plate where the fake, the fabulous, and the freaky hang out.

The supreme irony! And then there's this.

For all the criticism and mockery, millions admire and ape the Beckham lifestyle, their continuing success based on the simple equation that these days celebrity sells. There are more than just a name, they are a brand, an advertiser's dream. In a world saturated with celebrity, no one sell it like David and Victoria Beckham. As commentator Jason Cowley points out, "Global capitalism has, at present, no greater ambassador than David Beckham. His life is dedicated to conspicuous consumption and ostentatious display. In this he represents all that is worst and most excessive about our winner-takes-all society."

God, if only this book had existed in 2001. My parents could have saved like 60 grand on those last two years of college.