This photo of Harper Beckham just ruined my day. Maybe even my year. I don’t know, I haven’t decided yet how big of a crisis to make this in my life. But nevertheless rest assured that it’s a big deal.
As much as I love stalking photos of celebrity children (specifically those related to Victoria and David Beckham), I hate the moment they become aware they’re being stalked. It’s such a buzzkill. As long as they’re not looking at the camera, I can pretend that the paparazzi aren’t totally invading their personal space by being all up in their face with a lens. But the second they look directly at the camera and gaze into it with their sad, sad little faces is the second I start to feel guilty for looking.
Like this photo of Harper Seven Beckham looking at the camera with a mix of confusion and disgust. It’s the first time I’ve seen her acknowledge the paparazzi and it makes me sad. I like Harper and I don’t want to be the one responsible for that sad little face.
On the other hand, I do want to see her grow up because I’m brainwashed by celebrity culture [and insert a freshman sociology paper on our obsession with intruding upon the private lives of famous people here]. How can I balance my desire to have a babysitter-babysittee relationship with famous children, while also assuring that my desire doesn’t lead them to hate me — and subsequently destroy their own lives by acting in straight-to-VOD movies in an attempt to recapture the magic of their highly-photographed youth.
It’s quite the conundrum that I’m here and I’m not quite sure how to get out.
(Photo: Karl Piper/WENN)
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