Brooklyn Beckham has spent most of his adult life trying on personas in the way that rich children with famous parents often do. First he was a photographer, dropping out of art school after just one year, but not before gracing us with a book of photos including one of a barely visible elephant with the caption “elephants in Kenya. so hard to photograph but incredible to see,” and another of a blurry dining table. “i like this picture,” he wrote under the latter, “it’s out of focus but you can tell there’s a lot going on.” Soon after that, Brooklyn became a chef; then a wine collector, stating that his favorite bottle of wine costs a cool £2,500; then, a model. Each phase arrived with flashing lights, fully branded and merchandised, and collapsed just as quickly. The pictures were bad, the food looked like crap, and the wine recommendations were a punch in the face to anyone who wasn’t a Rockefeller or a Rothschild. The internet responded with mockery, which was effective and largely deserved.
But this week, Brooklyn has managed the unthinkable. He has earned my sympathy, which, given he has no aptitude nor any apparent shame or insecurity, was pretty hard to do. On Monday night, he posted a long statement on Instagram, in which he accused his parents—former footballer David Beckham and former pop star Victoria Beckham—of having sent his younger brothers to “attack” him on social media, of interfering in his marriage, and of treating one of the few genuinely private milestones of his adult life—his wedding—like an Instagram opportunity.
