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Sometimes the idea of a person collides with the reality of a person to make them... irresistible. They tend to be zeitgeist-responsive, these creatures that float out of the mist. That float almost out of nowhere. And yet not out of nowhere. Never out of nowhere. Heaven forfend. And so I give you the multifaceted magnificence that is Brooklyn Beckham. Pure, compelling social catnip. All the pin-up value of One Direction rolled into one human boy with first-generation-Sloane appeal. Young Turbo Sloanes are LA-loving, trainer-collecting, fashion-following, fitness-obsessed creatures. And this supreme football/fashion/Spice Boy collection of cells is as alluring as a duke for the modern schoolgirl. He's practically a genetically engineered cartoon cut-out of a next-generation personality. Sprung from the loins of Posh and Sir Goldenballs. A perfect, immaculate balance for the modern age.

Question: Who would you rather have at your birthday party?


a) The Prince of Wales

b) Kate Moss

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c) Brooklyn Beckham

Unless you answer c), we can never be friends because you just don't get it.


He's 16. So he's suddenly legal. Which means there are options that three months ago there would not have been. So that's diverting. Hot. Ready. Legal.

Now let's go back. Way back. Right back to conception, good-naturedly signposted by VB and Sir GB (could stand for Great Britain - it just gets better and better) through their helpfully transparent choice to name him after the borough in which he was conceived. Forward-thinking of them. I mean, who knew they were able to predict the hipster shape of things to come even as they planned their bethronéd wedding at Luttrellstown Castle. They wore purple. Brooklyn had a purple outfit, bib and cowboy hat. Good thing he's not called Luttrellstown Beckham. That might cool our ardour.

'Brooklyn?' we cried. 'Brooklyn? Really? Seriously? But that's not a name...' Yet observe how it now rollllls off the tongue. And no need to add on the alliterative surname. Brooklyn will suffice. For there is only one.

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British Vogue/Daniel Jackson


Anyway. Baby Brookers soon became the vehicle for Sir GB to demonstrate his 'Do not be distracted by my haircuts, I truly am the Dad of the Decade, not to mention Rear of the Year After Year' status as he added to his tats and missed a day's training in 2000 because BB had gastroenteritis.

He's a subtle sort, is B-Dawg. No Burberry for him, unlike little brother Romeo (could he have been conceived in the town of Romeo, Colorado? Or perhaps the village of Romeo, Michigan?), with his fox-like verve. No, no. Young Brooklyn is a man (teen) of the people. The teen of people's hearts. Who breaks teen hearts at the Feathers Charity Ball. Of course there has been modelling, but for a brand called Reserved. And he shared some advance snaps ('Behind the scenes for my new campaign') on Instagram, where there are many, many, many pouting pictures of the winsome (though legal) Brookle and then one lone quote from Martin Luther King Jr - 'Life's most persistent and urgent question is, "What are you doing for others?"' - hidden discreetly among the selfies.

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The Spanish years (when GB played for Real Madrid) added a Latin elan and those LA years smoothed out the lumps. In fact, there is a definite and not at all unattractive 'yo, man' to Brooklyn's body language. He turned from Essex Boy to movie star dating skater boy, with a kickass girlfriend in the form of Chloë Grace Moretz. 'I mean,' she said, 'he has a pretty small skateboard, and I like more of a long board.' Listen, Chloë, BJB (his middle name is Joseph) has sporting pedigree, poptastic pedigree, he is a bona-fide one-name-wonder, so if he does have a pretty small skateboard then there's no need to tell everyone. It's just vulgar.

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And here's the cherry on top of the Brooklyn: he doesn't seem to be slick like Li'l Romeo or wild like El Pequeño Cruz. He's steady. He's a brick. He shields his little sister Harper from the paparazzi. Kanye West may send him trainers for his birthday, but he has a Saturday job in a coffee shop so he can buy the things he likes. You'll want him at your party for the perfect, fresh, slightly awkward, potentially England-captaining poster boy that he is.

Pop quiz:

1. Rocco Ritchie or Brooklyn Beckham? Brooklyn.

2. Jaden Smith or Brooklyn Beckham? Brooklyn.

He stands alone. If you can't date him, get your daughter to date him. Brooklyn. We're not on the bridge. It's love. And I bet he's about to announce he deejays.


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