In any discussion of Britney Spears, exaggeration and excitement abounds—whether it is the excitement of slamming the teen queen's image, or the thrill of being a fan.
It can't be denied that much of Britney's fame and celebrity is strangely devoid of any information about what she actually does as a musician. She got married and divorced in Vegas and people ooh-ed and aah-ed. She had some family drama and the press went nuts. She kissed Madonna, and boy oh boy, did the media get excited. Oh, yeah, and she got a controversial haircut.
She also released seven hit albums during that time, but who cares? People seem to be less interested in her talent (or lack thereof, depending on who you ask) than they are in just her. From "...Baby One More Time" on forward, Britney's calling card has always been simply being Britney. But nobody really knows who Britney Spears is, or what she stands for. With its strange combination of innocent pop-y-ness, evasive ease, and utter suggestiveness, "...Baby One More Time" is about as Britney as it gets.