Did I tumble through a crack in the space-time continuum and end up in 2013?
Back then, when called upon to scribble about the bad boy antics of a teenage Justin Bieber, I felt the same dread I now feel about Mad King Trump. Young Justin was on a perilous trajectory. He was getting into legal scrapes and sparking international incidents.
He was a superstar on Cloud 9 about to hit rock bottom.
Happily, Mr. Bieber poured the sizzurp down the drain and got his act together. So it was strange to see him back in my newsfeed this week.
What did he do? Abandon another monkey in Germany? Pee in a bistro bucket? Leave an inappropriate message in the guest book at the Anne Frank House? Egg a neighbour’s manse? Get busted for DUI? Deface a historic monument?
Nope. This week’s headlines: “Justin Bieber Sparks Worries After Wearing a Bathrobe in Public.” “Justin Bieber’s Cheeks Look Sunken As He Walks Outside NYC Apartment In Just Bathrobe and Slippers Without Wife Hailey.” “Justin Bieber Latest Solo Outing Raises Mental Health Concerns Amid Hailey Bieber Divorce Rumors.”
Now, if the paparazzi snapped Bieber entering church in a G-string, that might be newsworthy. But the poor guy was just leaving a spa? I don’t know what goes on in such pampering dens of self-care. My idea of perfect horror is to have my flesh kneaded by a stranger as New Age music chimes.
But I do know robes are as common in spas as they are in hospital wards.
Why did the Biebs dash out in a powder blue dressing gown, matching beanie and UGG boots? Ugh, no idea. Maybe he was craving Starbucks before returning so someone could pumice his toes. Maybe he lost the key to his locker. Maybe another client recognized him and he beat a hasty retreat to avoid answering questions such as, “Is everything OK? Your cheeks look sunken.”
Justin became a dad about six months ago. Fatherhood rewires a male brain. Maybe it’s the sleep deprivation or the stroller strolls in which you can walk two blocks and have no memory of what you just passed.
That’s dad fog: When did I last shower? Oh, God, I don’t remember!
When my twin daughters were still in cribs, my wife dispatched me one night on an SOS milk run. It was only after I entered the convenience store that I realized I was wearing hotel slippers. I had just operated a motor vehicle and did not detect there were no proper rubber soles see-sawing the pedals. It scared me. I glanced down again to make sure I was wearing pants.
My advice to the entertainment press and Beliebers across the globe: cut Justin some slack right now. Stop speculating about his mental health or marital status. Stop plastering his posts with concerned comments.
Who are you, Susan Collins? Your concern is just as disingenuous.
Telling someone you have never met to seek professional help is unhelpful.
Bieber survived his self-destructive era and earned the right to brood and reflect. He traded red carpets for Diaper Genies — an adjustment period is warranted.
If anything, the singer deserves praise for ending the graffiti sprees. He pulled back from the showbiz glitz to embrace his faith. He detoured into fashion. Do I think his Drew collection is uglier than the wardrobe of “Breakin’ 2: Electric Boogaloo”? Sure. I wouldn’t let my cats wear one of those tacky hoodies. Bieber’s colour palette would make van Gogh cut off his other ear.
But here’s the thing: Bieber will turn 31 next month and has racked up 50 years of maturity in the last 15. Four years ago, he was meeting with France’s Emmanuel Macron to discuss “youth issues.” The tabloids still claim he is a problem child. Where is the evidence? In 2013, Bieber was as unavoidable as syphilis in an 18th-century brothel and just as unpleasant.
Wearing a robe in public is, at worst, a common cold.
Whatever is or is not going on with Justin and Hailey is their business. They are not seeking the public spotlight at this time. They are a young couple with a new baby. The pundits and plebes are wrong to ruminate about their relationship.
Let them be. Leave them alone.
Compared to Kanye West, Justin seems as well-adjusted as the Dalai Lama. Gosh, he left a spa without his street clothes? At least he didn’t buy a Super Bowl ad to plug swastika merch. Bieber course corrected to avoid his perilous trajectory. By contrast, West locked in the co-ordinates and is now crashing and burning as a repulsive antisemite with the IQ and resting face of Grumpy Cat.
Justin Bieber was lost in the forest of fame until he found a redemptive path.
Wearing a robe in the urban jungle does not change that.
