Years from now we will be able to tell our grandkids that we lived through the “Chris Crocker experience”, and their sweet innocent eyes will either grow wide with wonder or they’ll just roll their jaded eyes and tell us it’s time for our meds again. His rise to superstardom might seem overly swift but there are deeper underlying forces at work here:
“I’m the key to world peace,” says Crocker, sporting a sleeveless black T-shirt with a hot pink silhouette of Marilyn Monroe. His blond bob is swept behind an ear and the eye liner is, as always, flawless.
It is easy to see what the tv producers see in him. He has the angry emotional chutzpah and expertly applied eyeliner of Avril Lavigne when she first burst on the scene, plus the trendy hair and media-savvy of Victoria Beckham. And he’s at that young nubile age where he can perform all the moves that his pop idol is presently incapable of doing.