I get Britney Spears, Lindsay Lohan and even Paris Hilton. I don’t particularly admire these celebrities or their antics but I get it.

They are 21st-century post-modern celebs feeding off media attention. Like plants in the jungle, they opportunistically exploit their environments to enhance their survival. It could be argued that LiLo and BriSpo possess more talent that ParHo, but lately their staged life-dramas and not their talent have been the mainstay of their currency.

I get that. Begrudgingly

But Posh Spice, aka Victoria Beckham I don’t get. Yes, she is married to a beautiful and talented footballer who has successfully leveraged his image to sell brands. Yes, she was once in a girlie pop group that had a hit or two. Yes, she’s a British working-class girl done good. Yes, she feeds off the teat of the celebrity-adoring cow.

But I don’t get the appeal. Why do people go for PoSpo with her crushed-in cheeks and the over-sized head on the stick-insect body? Does the word “mutant” come to mind?

She hasn’t said or done anything particularly interesting or outrageous since her Spice Girl days. Spice sista Ginger Spice became a representative for the UN Population fund and travelled the world advocating women’s rights.

And the image of her on that book squatting in the sky-scraper high heels and flashing the gusset of her black underpants. Ugh! Where was her agent when that abomination was created?

I appreciate female beauty and I understand the bad-girl antics of pop stars. But no matter how hard I try, I just don’t get Victoria Beckham.

Please explain. Someone.