BRITNEY Spears shaved off her hair in to "stop people touching her head", according to a tattooist who saw her moments after the incident. The pop superstar, now 37, faced a public battle with mental illness that eventually lead to her father Jamie Spears to take control over her personal affairs via a conservatorship. But the most infamous and tragic moment was when Britney marched into a salon in Los Angeles to shave her hair off with a pair of clippers. After the incident, Britney turned up at Body and Soul Tattoo studio where she confided in tattooist Emily Wynee-Hughes on why she did it. I remember asking her, 'why did you shave your head? I don't want anyone touching my hair. I'm sick of people touching my hair.
Fernando Flores, 29, has described his alleged encounters with Britney and said she made his life hell by continuing to try and bed him. The former employee of the Toxic singer said he was warned of her behaviour on the first day of the job and soon after was called by the mother-of-two to meet in her bedroom. Brave face: Britney Spears looked happy and relaxed today as she took son Jayden Federline out for lunch in Calabasas, California today. She looked me right in the eye like she was waiting for something.
The hunky model stars in the singer's Slumber Party clip. The legendary pop icon recently unveiled the music video for her smash hit single Slumber Party, and fans were quick to notice the man candy. But it seems like Britney doesn't miss a trick either, as it's believed the star has struck up a romance with the handsome model. Sam Asghari, who also recently starred in Fifth Harmony's Work From Home music video, shared a now-deleted snap of himself enjoying a sushi date with the pop legend. He captioned the snap with a series of sushi emojis which suggested the pair enjoyed a Japanese themed meal together.
If you had asked me how I felt about Britney during the fall of , the year I turned 14, I probably would have told you that I hated her. In that way, hatred is as valuable as love — or at least it can feel that way, especially during the long, slow, sweaty pressure cooker of adolescence, when the self seems most in danger of explosion or evaporation. Both of these outcomes seemed possible probable, even on the night I kissed a girl. It was my first high school party although, blessedly, not one cool enough to involve alcohol. Jamie and my sister Katie both went to an all-girls Catholic school where white blouses and knee-length plaid kilts were the standard uniform, so the costume was an obvious choice. All Jamie had to do was pull her thick, chestnut brown hair back into pigtails and sweep her eyelids with some shadow.