Seeing Madonna's bottom made me realise we've aged very differently - Anneka Rice

Madonna didn't exactly hold back with the Instagram post and it caused a stir across social media. Photo / Instagram

Opinion

OPINION:

Madonna and I are the same age. She seems to have been part of our family conversation for decades now. My sister did her English degree dissertation on her, thousands of words on conical bras and girl power. In the '80s Madonna and I were neck and neck in a poll of girls' top-20 heroines. I was the woman whose work they most liked and she was the woman they would most like to be, though scrolling down the list Mary Whitehouse is in there along with Margaret Thatcher so I need to get over myself.

At the time though we were both trailblazing through the decade. I was presenting Treasure Hunt then Challenge Anneka, jumping out of helicopters without doors, followed by a panting man; a woman right at the centre of the action, taking control, totally empowered.

You have to remember that, up until that point, women on television were usually draped over a car as a prize on the Golden Shot (the car, not the woman), fluttering their eyelids at Bruce Forsyth, or else firmly nailed to the newsroom chair, top half only. And Madonna burst onto the scene with an energy, irreverence and genius that blew through the music industry. She morphed through bride, punk, geisha, military, hip-hop. I think she may have stolen my jumpsuit vibe, to be honest, for her black corset bodysuit look on her Who's That Girl tour, but difficult to corroborate this.

But whereas she carried on experimenting with lace corsets and conical bras, I never moved beyond the solid jumpsuit. Her outfits got skimpier, mine got stouter. She reinvented herself a dozen times and I just invented a way to build community centres in three days. She stayed relevant and I just seemed to stay stiff and knackered.

These days, as Madonna crosses continents on world tours, I seem to be watching The Repair Shop on a loop. Over the decades I've applauded each new reinvention, each new toyboy, each child, each glowing buttock. She's a force of nature. But if proof were needed of the different directions our lives have taken, look no further than the explicit photos Madonna shared this week on Instagram.

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The shot of her legs and bare bottom poking out from under a bed took social media by storm, sparking a wave of memes, and had me reaching for the gin. How did she even get under that bed without snagging her tights? Was she looking for her phone charger? Was she on an extreme Treasure Hunt? It worried a lot of people on Twitter that the centre buttock line of the fishnets was slightly off.

Fishnets aside, that toned bottom was a sight to behold. I was Rear of the Year in 1986 and I don't think she's been nominated yet, so that's definitely a feather in my cap, but the effort involved keeping that rear to look like Madonna's would literally take five bodybuilders and a surgeon with a massive sense of humour. The only fillers I know about are stocking ones, or stuff to hold the ceiling together.

For the purposes of this article I've had a quick try to recreate the pose and though I did find two phone chargers, a Challenge Anneka mug and Son 3's swimming kit circa 2005, I had a mild panic attack and had to be pulled out. But I definitely proved the point that it is impossible to exit from under a bed in fishnets and Louboutin shoes.

So now I'm full of consternation that Madonna is actually impaled under a pull-down bed, because honestly you wouldn't choose to choke yourself on carpet dust while experiencing mild claustrophobia. Has someone checked on her? Should we send someone round? Or perhaps, rather endearingly, the mother-of-six is just not that great at hide and seek. We all remember our children covering their eyes and thinking they were hidden.

Though, as ever, she's gamely giving her all, I must say. Suddenly that photograph tugged at my emotions. It says so much. Or it said so much until I saw the next image, where she's lying topless on her bed. I mean, who lets anyone see your nipple?