It's Britney, Bitch!

When Britney Spears took the stage shortly before the turn of the millennium, she was seen as the epitome of innocence turned pop: beautiful, princess-like, harmless. Mickey Mouse Club, Justin Timberlake, schoolgirl uniform, red latex, marriage.

But then: February 6, 2007. Britney Spears publicly shaves off her hair. "Breakdown", "crash", "the end" is what the media calls it. Sure. It's obvious, after all. But what if it isn't? What if this action was not a short circuit, not a cry for help, not a psychological low point? Why wasn't this moment read as a statement, as a purposeful act of emancipation? As a self-determined end to the sexualization of her person? "Britney survived 2007, you can handle today" has gone from a meme to a way of life.

So what if it wasn't about survival at the time, but about a 26-year-old woman having no other way to break out of a foreign-determined and constructed identity? Britney Spears' attempted breakout was decided and manifested by the press and the public, thirsty for sensation and for suffering, as a comprehensible end. The breakout resulted in her being under the guardianship and absolute control of her father until recently.

It's Britney, Bitch! is an evening that does not claim to understand. It's Britney Bitch! is a declaration of love for a woman who is more than just a friendly major chord in the history of pop.