Didn’t pop bitches used to be hot? » The Music Mag

Didn’t pop bitches used to be hot?

It’s Friday night, midnight’s approaching at a ferocious pace as I lay out on the sofa balancing a laptop on my stomach and holding a bottle of almost ice cold Magner’s Pear Cider by my side. Deep in the midst of a poker tournament I run my Kings into Aces and realise I should have found something better to spend my night doing and look to take solace in the 52″ LCD TV to my left. Flicking through a dozen shopping channels brings me to BBC2 and a friendly and familiar sight, that of Jools Holland, a man loved by all who’ve ever seen his tight and twisted face before them. Jools instructs his cameraman to pan around the room as he introduces the Manic Street Preachers, Paolo Nutini, Booker T, Taylor Swift, and quite probably someone else that left a less than memorable gouge in my eardrums. While the existence of the other acts has no real bearing on my life, the appearance of Booker T is worth getting excited about ten times over so I take another big gulp of my pleasing cider and curl up to watch the show.

Nutini sings some stuff that I don’t care about, the Manic Street Preachers move around their part of the studio energetically reminding me that they might actually have been quite good once upon a time, Booker T hooks up with Jools Holland to amaze me with his talents, and then they let Taylor Swift sing. Now, it goes without saying that the music’s droning and monotonous, attempting to connect with a generation far removed from my own, but through the boring pretence of meaningful words I notice something else. This girl is ugly! I don’t just mean unnattractive either. There are plenty of unnattractive women in the world who aren’t ugly, but this pop princess is a fully grown trogladite. She’s not just plain, she’s not just dull and uninspiring, she has a big nose, a gangley awkward looking body, and eyes that keep crossing each other as she moves her mis-shapen lips to sing. I’m sure in her videos she’s painted up to look like she might know how to have sex but the fact remains that here, on national television, she looks like someone’s smacked her in the face with an iron, and frankly if it would stop her incessant whiney vocals then I’d be all for it. Now, I don’t know what she is, she’s definitely not a rock chick, and whether I liked their music or not I always thought pop babes were supposed to be hot? My confusion at exactly what this deformed swamp donkey actually is leads me into deep thought, didn’t pop bitches used to be fuckable?

Attractive women have always fallen into two categories for me based on a reaction induced from the very first moment I see them. They’re either a girl whose image makes me want to fall in love with them, or a girl whose image makes me want to fuck them. I’m still waiting for the day that I meet a girl whose image makes me want to do both. When I do, I’ll ask her to marry me. There’s been many pop bitches over the years that a simple picture of, or a music video of, even seeing a live performance from, induced one of those two feelings, and that’s how my Friday night was spent, remembering those fine examples of pop eye candy. As you can tell, any lonely man drinking cider on a Friday night in front of mundane music on television would give this far too much thought and as a result, here’s my pick of the five finest the world has ever seen, in no real detail because frankly all you should be doing is going on youtube looking for their videos rather than hearing the spunk seep through my words as I write about them.

No such list could be complete without The Pussycat Dolls, each and every one of them. The way they talk, the way they dance, the way they look, everything they does just screams out “stick a cock in me, please!”. There’s lots of random women in pop who look somewhere bordering between mildly attractive, and uber hot, but what sets the Pussycat Dolls apart is that they know how to be sexy. Take Britney Spears for instance. While a lot of guys think she looks great, when it comes to being sexy she’s clueless. She’s just a blonde girl that can dance, even watching her kiss someone, whether it’s in a video or on stage, you can tell that she doesn’t even know how to do that properly. She’s just a silly little girl trying to be sexy, nothing comes naturally. The Pussycat Dolls do though, they know how to kiss. I swear, if my lips ever got anywhere near a Pussycat Doll they’d make me unload in my jeans before they’d even touched me.

It’d be rude not to black it up, especially seeing as I’m a total mark for hot black women. Patra is a sadly forgotten reggae queen who broke onto the scene in the early to mid 90′s in America, and to a smaller extent in the UK too. She had a body that came straight from Jamaica and she knew how to grind it. From her ass shaking “Dip and Fall Back” video, to her “fuck me!” take on Grace Jones “Pull up to the Bumper” her voice alone was enough to send shivers through my nether regions. Her sexuality was just pure blackness and it drove me crazy for years.

I had two crushes as a child, one was the stunning Molly Ringwald, the other was Blondie lead singer, Debbie Harry. I remember my parents taping the Muppet Show every week for me to watch. I could have been no more than four years old when I watched the episode with Debbie Harry in it on repeat for the best part of a month. I’ll never forget the childish shame of my Mother catching me kissing the screen whenever Debbie was on it. Those are the kind of memories that stay with you.

Remember Transvision Vamp? No? Well, you should. Their strange pop-punk-80′s-rock weirdness was only ever really highlighted by their lead singer, the delightfully shaggable Wendy James. The second line of their wikipedia blurb of “the lead singer and focal-point of the group, attracted media attention with her sexually-charged and rebellious image”, when combined with watching the videos for “I want your love”, “Baby I don’t care” and “Landslide of Love” (do it, do it now!) are enough to make any man obsess. Wendy James was the ultimate 80′s wank fantasy.

And of course, it would be impossible to forget Cheryl Tweedy. Not the footballer’s wife that the nation has come to love, not Cheryl Cole, but Cheryl Tweedy. The common Geordie slapper that wowed us all with her lack of class and a whole lot of fuckable arse. The sort of girl that you could imagine using and abusing after finding her legless on a night out, offering you a “gob job” or a “hand shandy” in that pissed up Geordie accent. Tweedy was a monster of sex appeal and the best thing about it was that she didn’t have a clue. The Tweedy that died some time ago, was a woman that should never, ever be forgotten.