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My favorite recent story was when Geri got a false fingernail stuck in her ear on a video shoot.
"In fact, today I'm wearing a pair of Melanie B's knickers."What would you say to someone who thinks that spice girls are pointless and talentless? It's a chance to speak to the world." (Mel B is clearly not an expert on these matters. They knew each other already, because they were always turning up at the same auditions, for musicals or shows or whatever, where they were inevitably rejected.They get up, walk around, do exercises on the floor and go to the bathroom in a constant stream of ones and twos. There is much giggling, and several Spice Girls press Geri to keep silent. She is the most talkative Spice Girl and the one who is generally first to shout "girl power," the key concept in Spice Girls philosophy. Her mother, who works in a department store, is from Leeds, in the north of England. Her father is a milkman; her mother teaches martial arts. She was teased at school for that and for her nose. Her mother is a singer; her father is in the travel business. They were invented during an editorial meeting at a British teen magazine called . published the names, with an illustration of a spice rack, and they just caught on.Mel B wanders over to the potted plant in the corner and begins talking to it. Then she walks back and hands me a matted clump from the top of her head. "We might put a boogie under the table in someone's office." They laugh. When she was young, Mel B used to have a boogie collection behind her bunk bed. She likes to dress in Prada and Gucci, and hates the way she looks when she smiles. "We decided they were the kind of band we could have a lot of fun with," Peter Loraine, the editor, says. As in the best pop stories – the Sex Pistols', say – it is not the plans you think up that make the difference, it is how well you use the accidents., and the first single, "Wannabe," have reached No.But she’s also a great writer, so what could come across as detached is actually quite moving and intimate.But what I’m interested in is the relationship between autobiography and fiction, which is what my post here yesterday was about—Virginia Woolf’s actual father throwing the flowerpot being transmuted into the fictional Mr.