Unpacking the Rebekah Vardy–Coleen Rooney Instagram Drama
On Tuesday morning, hurricane forecasters noted three separate disturbances in the Atlantic Ocean. Though they're well-versed in tracking impending storms, the forecasters could not possibly have ascertained the real reason for the gathering clouds and restless tides: Coleen Rooney was scheming against Rebekah Vardy.
On Wednesday came the big reveal: Rooney, the wife of English soccer star Wayne Rooney, tweeted about the burden in her life that she had finally conquered—which, of course, involves Instagram.
Rebekah Vardy, wife of Jamie Vardy, a fellow English footballer who previously played on the England national team with Wayne Rooney, had allegedly been selectively leaking information from Coleen's Finsta to the British tabloids. A Finsta is a sacred space, a second, private Instagram where influencers can let their hair down and do non-sponsored posts whilst freeing themselves of the content mill that grinds everyone even loosely affiliated with THE MEDIA to dust. Violating this sacred space is a crime against humanity. And yet, that is what Rebekah supposedly did, whispering now-known-to-be-fake stories to the Sun, like "In Roo-Ins: Wayne and Coleen Rooney's €20million 'Morrisons mansion' flooded during Storm Lorenzo," and "Col's Baby Girl Bid: Coleen Rooney travelled to Mexico to look into €8k 'gender selection' treatment in desperate bid to have baby girl."
How Coleen pulled off these elaborate hoaxes hasn't been uncovered, and the reasoning behind Rebekah's unusually cruel betrayal also hasn't yet come to light. She, for the record, has denied any wrongdoing, despite WAGatha Christie's thorough investigation.
What Rebekah failed to consider is that Coleen achieved big-J Journalist designation by virtue of once writing a regular column for OK! magazine. (The standards are pretty low, okay?) And as such, she is attuned to doing the only thing journalists are actually good at—keeping tabs on a long, petty list of enemies on social media.
To gain a clearer understanding of how Coleen's breaking news is rankling an already fragile United Kingdom (will Boris Johnson suspend parliament again? Is Coleen going to be gifted that big ceremonial mace?), we turned to Iana Murray, GQ entertainment writer and our new official U.K. correspondent. Here's her report on the pandemonium, sent from an encrypted messaging app as she travels from London to Edinburgh: "I'm on a train right now so I am quite literally scoping the entire country. Everyone is on their laptops and I assume it's because they're living for the drama as much as I am. Coleen Rooney has singlehandedly united Fiat 500 and Football Twitter, which only Love Island has previously managed to achieve. Brexit has divided us as a nation, and I think this is what has brought us back together again."
Added Joseph Mooney, a fashion-closet assistant and Brit whom I dragged to my desk mere moments ago: "She's [Coleen] done it, she's done some good old diggin.’ ”
I can also exclusively report overhearing/reading the following awful British jokes from my Yankee colleagues:
--"This is the best British drama in the country's storied history. Shakespeare who? Downton Abbey found dead in a ditch!" (Don't worry, this writer was promptly fired.)
--"The Brits really do love tea!"
--"Like the Brits' favorite pastime, it appears this one has ended in a draw (soccer/football joke)."
Incredible and inspiring what humans can accomplish when they put their minds to something.
Originally Appeared on GQ
