I spend a lot of time thinking about the Beckhams. About Victoria’s devastatingly good fashion and beauty brands. About David’s philanthropic endeavours and Green Egg BBQ repertoire. About how 8-year-old Harper only uses clean beauty products and learned sign language at Christmas to wish people a merry one. About how both the soft and hard furnishings of their Cotswolds pile are identikat to those of Soho Farmhouse, the debonair Disneyland just over the field. (I’ve gleaned this simply from scrambling around in the negative space of their Instagrams.) I’ve digressed, however, because it’s Brooklyn who fascinates me the most. And not because of his much-maligned photography for which I have few feelings, but for his love life. His exhausting, prolific and performative love life.
A brief inventory: from approximately 2014 to 2018, on and off, there was Chloe Grace Moretz, a very famous impish blonde. In one of Brooklyn’s early photos of them, the actress wrote “Love you”, only to be one-upped and no-you-hang-up-first’ed by Brooklyn’s “Love you more” reply. A break-up sadly ensued, the second in fact, and any hopes of reconciliation were soon dashed when Brookyln was spotted kissing Playboy model Lexi Wood a few months later. There was a brief dalliance with Lexy Panterra, a musician ten years his senior. Then early 2019 came Hana Cross, a devastatingly sultry, slung pouted Brit whose relationship with Brooklyn will forever be referred to as a “series of explosive rows" after the pair were often papped having a number of impassioned barneys. The worst of which saw security guards at Cannes Film Festival forced to physically break the pair up, before David and Victoria stepped in, figuratively, to do the same. This brings us largely up to speed, to Nicola Anne Peltz, a 25-year-old American actress. Brooklyn by the way is 21. Consider the few years of that existence in which it is normal and appropriate to date, and he’s fit a lot in.
Instagram tempts us to act a certain way, celebrity or not. I imagine it's tricky for someone whose raison d’etre is to love, be loved and be vocal about it, to have 12m Instagram followers. Perhaps it’s that unwavering validation that’s given him the chutzpah not just to breeze, but gale-force fucking wind over each previous relationship and the declarations it espoused. It’s the only way to cement the new one, and serves as a masterclass in feigning amnesia.
There are common denominators of Brooklyn’s relationships: namely inseparability, photoshoots featuring nondescript underwear and brass-necked tactility. Increasing to each, however, is the intensity of language, issued through his standard milieu of Instagram. His semantics of love graduate to (more) explicit devotion. In Peltz’s case, it’s the word “forever”, because by definition, it obliterates any whiff of ephemerality. It’s the lexical promise ring. “Can’t wait for our future together [love heart emoji x 3] forever my girl,” one comment reads. Requited, on a carousel of pictures of Brooklyn, Peltz left the same, “forever”.
The indiscriminate speed and agility with which Brooklyn enters into purportedly perfect and unbreakable relationships is impressive, until you take into account his tumultuous romantic past. That said, things look pretty good in the Peltz-Beckham isolation suite right now. Yes, because they’re in LA, but also because racy photoshoots have been replaced by those of the hand holding on self timer under candy-coloured skies, and rainbow-bright ice cream with sprinkles, which in Brooklyn’s world, counts for more and more. Maybe this one is The One.