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Asghari with his girlfriend Britney Spears at the Los Angeles premiere of Once Upon A Time … In Hollywood in 2019. KEVIN WINTERGETTY IMAGES
GLORY AND FORTUNE
On Wednesday, June 23, Spears was connected remotely by phone at a Los Angeles County court. While this was standard protocol in the midst of a seemingly endless pandemic, it was particularly fitting support for a star whose life has been both so public and so distant for so many years. . Instagram, after all, has been her primary mode of interaction with the world since her residency in Las Vegas – in which she presented 248 shows over four years to a sold-out audience of 4,600 – ended. on New Years Eve 2017. go to court for the first time about the devastation caused by guardianship on his personal and professional life. For 23 minutes, she grabbed the attention of the courtroom – and the attention of what everyone looked like with Twitter or Slack or a pop culture-savvy group text channel on their smartphones. Her voice didn’t have the Disney Princess beat her online followers were used to. Although he trembled at times and the judge must have asked him to slow down as she nervously went through parts of his statement, her voice was purposeful, bossy – and she was angry.
As she detailed the many indignities of the unusually long and restrictive arrangement, live tweets from fans and reporters in the courtroom swept through social media like seismic waves. One detail in particular sparked nauseous outrage: Spears has an IUD inside his body against his will and has not been allowed to remove it. The literal pervasiveness of this fact has become an undeniable point of contact not only for the #FreeBritney cause but also for a belated reassessment of the legal levers that control guardianship in the United States.
But under that shock and outrage, there was a current of sadness for Spears, that she couldn’t even enjoy the daily moves of an average life that many of us take for granted. Family planning has been taken off the table in a deeply violent way, yes. But so were the building blocks most people use to build their lives. “I want to get the real deal. I want to be able to get married and have a baby. We told me [that] right now, in guardianship, I can’t get married or have a baby, “Spears said in her statement to the court, later adding,” All I want is to own my money, for that to happen. ends, and my boyfriend to drive me in his fucking car.
By the time Spears went offline, the media was in a frenzy. Which was not unusual. After all, Spears wields the digital presence that launched a thousand conspiracy theories (some, it turns out, it’s true), controversies, and tabloid stories. Meanwhile, I like to imagine that Spears herself was able to return to a small oasis of jury-rigged normalcy, dare we say banality, that she and Asghari quietly built within the walls of her Ventura County home.
I have to imagine it because when Asghari paints a picture of their inner life together, he mainly draws in the margins. It’s understandable when the normal details of any other couple’s personal lives are potential exposures to you in a long, drawn-out legal battle.
No, he is not willingly giving out his feelings about IUDgate. He insisted on saying that he would not discuss guardianship for our interview. He also avoids using Spears’ name in a way that might make it easier to make more spin, though it’s hard to tell if it’s intentional or because he’s a romantic. Asghari calls her “my daughter”. He doesn’t share too many details, even about the sandwiches he likes to make her at home. He loves to cook, but these are Spears’ favorite comfort food (“My Daughter Loves My Sandwichesâ€); he doesn’t eat them (“I don’t like a lot of bread”).
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