V Magazine describes itself as “…a magazine about fashion with a capital F and all the things that go with it: art, music, film, architecture…you name it.” Well, one of those F’s must stand for Football. You know, that other kind with the World Cup and those buzzy horns. It’s a sport that’s been just about to catch on in the U.S. for the past several decades. Yet unlike the metric system, soccer refuses to give up and go away.
In the rest of the world, footballers’ wives and girlfriends, or WAGS, are a subject of great interest. (I blame you, praying mantis queen Victoria Beckham.) V’s issue #66 pokes fun at the phenomenon with a photo spread that mocks the European tabloids. But there’s a twist. All the players and women are actually models. It seems that, like much of the country, V wasn’t interested in the real thing.
And did I mention there’s nudity? What’s more American than that? V may be a cutting-edge publication, but I’m guessing there will be more than one average Joe hunched over in a fancy bookstore, surreptitiously flipping the pages. Here’s my favorite:
She makes multitasking look so classy, doesn’t she? There’s no law against texting while you breastfeed yet, is there? If you’re of a mind to see the others, go to Refinery 29 for the scoop. (Don’t worry, it’s a fashion site, not a porn site.) Some of the pics are not safe for work, but most are a hoot.
Actually, in my Internet wanderings, I did find evidence that there’s at least one American who’s a bona fide soccer fan. It’s the guy who shouted, “USA!” after smashing a pie into the face of an English player who was being interviewed by the BBC. He ran off with his hands held high, no doubt feeling quite proud of himself. Of course, the Brits just laughed it off.
If he’d done that here, he’d be on his way to a secret prison with a sack over his head. Be warned, fella. Don’t bring that behavior back here. We don’t mess around. That’s why we like bone-crunching American football, not some sissy crap where you can’t use your hands. No offense.