What I liked about Rihanna’s halftime show was that she didn’t bow to any pressure to dilute it with special guests. She came out there and said, effectively, “I’m enough. I’m freaking Rihanna,” and she is on both counts. But I don’t mind her having special guests on this cover, because THAT BABY IS SUCH A NOODLE, OH MY GOD. And she’s still very much in command here, asserting herself all over the place, pulling A$AP Rocky along behind her and pulling the focus — correctly — with it. I agree with all the complaints I’ve seen that Vogue likes the beach a little too much, and the story details some issues with paparazzi trying to get a peek at the bebe, a problem they could have solved at a number of private locations. But in the end, the cover still does it all: giggly, adorable baby, a doting dad, and Rihanna in front of them all, running this town tonight.
The headline on the story bored me, though: “Rihanna Reborn: How a Megastar Became a Mother.” I can tell you exactly how she became a mother, my dudes, and I’m pretty sure you can, too. They call it “her most seismic reinvention yet,” because STILL the media doesn’t know how to handle it when women have babies and so they treat it like a new personality trait. In reality, this story reads very much like Rihanna being Rihanna, just with some blunt observations about motherhood this time:
“Having a kid honestly unlocks another side of life where you’re now in the matrix with the people who’ve already had kids,” she says. Her team is largely made up of women – “Lots of moms,” she explains. Famed for her all-night workathons – product developing, marketing, brainstorming until dawn – now she panics for the double life of working parents. “‘Were you doing this all along? Are you serious? When I had you guys in meetings all the way until 6am you didn’t say how nuts that was?’” She looks a little sheepish. “You come to have a different respect for moms and dads.” (The irony is not lost on her that she is making this point at 5am.)
