In GQ. In Her Pants. Beyonce Is Better Than This

Filed under: Have you seen?

Not to go all Kanye West, but Beyonce is one of the most successful artists OF ALL TIME. So why did she let GQ photograph her in her pants? asks Sara McCorquodale

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Beyonce is performing at The Brits, hurrah! She's fierce, and cool and... oh no, wait, in her pants in GQ.

Why, Beyonce, WHY? You're a gazillionaire in your own right, super-talented and totally don't need to take off your clothes to get attention. This is the worst thing that's happened to Women In Pop since Xtina wore chaps and misspelled dirty (it's got one r, and that's plenty).

Firstly, because I've always hoped I'd become Beyonce when I grew up, no matter that I'm 29 and she's likely to occupy the position forever. She was the girl who said she was too hot for boys, that we ruled the world and she wouldn't go out with someone who couldn't pay their own bills. Yeah! Right on, sister – me neither!

But also, she's never had a tabloid-coined "fall from grace". When Britney was shaving her head and Lindsay Lohan getting nicked, Beyonce was starring in Dreamgirls, and making music and being consistently awesome.

And she never dated stupid boys. You were never like, "Beyonce! You're too good for him!" Because she's with Jay-Z, who's also awesome (but would be better if he didn't call women bitches. Just saying).

Anyway, in short, in my eyes Beyonce could do no wrong. And then I saw this month's GQ cover shoot. Seriously, what does Terry Richardson say to girls to make them go all hipster Playboy? It's a mystery, but whatever it is, the shoot's Cat Daddy-level raunchy and the interview's pretty forward too. She says – at some point between throwing about cream, cherries and flour (is grain sexy now?) - "If I'm scared, be scared, allow it, release it, move on. I think I need to go listen to Make Love to Me and make love to my husband."

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Hush, Beyonce, that's your business! I was genuinely okay not knowing this.

Of course, none of this will stop me from completely worshipping her – it takes more than one mental photoshoot to destroy the woman who wrote Jumpin, Jumpin – all I'm saying is she's better than this. And I blame Terry Richardson.

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