Oh to be a pop star! The insane life of Justin Bieber

JUSTIN Bieber landed in Sydney on his private jet yesterday without any fanfare. He’s changed, says Jo Stanley, who once had a strange experience with him.

JUSTIN Bieber is in the country. Depending on your age, gender and level of self-respect, that news will either make you scream, yawn or vomit. I’m leaning towards the latter, out of sheer envy for his private jet.

He touched down in Sydney early yesterday morning with no announcement, no hysterical mobs of teen Beliebers, not even a Ludacris-ly named rapper in tow. Lil Twist, Lil Za and Lil Looking-to-hook-into-someone-else’s-fame must have been busy.

Reports say he’s here either to hang with his friend/rumoured girlfriend/jetski companion, model Hailey Baldwin, or to God it up at the Hillsong Conference in Sydney this week. Checking out the conference diary, there’s a session entitled “We All Have Issues” he might be particularly interested in.

Justin Bieber with his ‘friend’ Hailey Baldwin.

Whatever his plans, all I can think is ‘Oh to be a pop star!’ How nice to have the resources and freedom to hop on a plane at any time you like, and go wherever you please. We’re repeatedly told, by those who live the privileged life of super stardom, how hard their lives actually are, but this morning, as I attacked a mound of dirty laundry, while my 6-year old told me she’s bored — at 8.34am on THE FIRST DAY of school holidays — I’d happily life-swap with the Biebs.

Look at Taylor Swift. So powerful she just held Apple Music to ransom and won. Miley Cyrus goes out in nothing but nipple pasties. Kanye publicly claims to be “the greatest living rock star in the world” and no one has him committed to a psych ward for extreme delusional disorder. Essentially, pop stars live the life of a child who’s staying with their grandparents for the weekend — totally and utterly indulged in their every mad, fantastical and narcissistic desire.

I have interviewed Justin Bieber, and I must admit, at one point during my interaction with him, I did feel sorry for him. It was just after he’d turned 18, and about a year before he peed in a janitor’s bucket, starting his very public fall from grace. During the 24 hours in which I was privy to his world, there were many moments of hilarious lunacy.

The day before, his security went through our building, rehearsing where Justin would be walking, which doors he’d go through, how long the elevator would take, because heaven forbid he’d have to wait. It felt a little over the top. We’d had Oscar winners and prime ministers happily float in off the street.

On the day of the interview, there were teenagers on street corners in tears, literally falling to the pavement when shown a photo of him. Later, I saw his then girlfriend, Selena Gomez, crouching like a terrified garden gnome behind a black BMW 4WD in our basement car park, hiding from God knows who.

When Bieber arrived, he was flanked by about 20 people. I couldn’t tell you what any of them did, and when asked, he couldn’t either. I wondered for whose benefit that entourage was there? Was it to protect him, or convince us of his status? It felt incongruous with the person, because upon meeting him, he seemed like such a normal, although very pretty and teeny tiny, 18 year old boy.

Yes, this picture is of Justin Bieber’s entourage carrying him up the Great Wall of China.

His charming manners made me feel oddly maternalistic towards him and in that moment I did wish I could spirit him away from the madness that was his machine.

Three years later, after paparazzi spats, DUI and assault charges and a court appearance in which he failed to remember even visiting Australia (and I thought we had something special) it could be suggested maybe that privileged life hasn’t been so great for him, and he’d be better off a normal human being who hears the word ‘no’ once in a while.

It’s all right though. He’s had a redemptive public roasting for Comedy Central, so we know he’s a good person again.

And now that Bieber has quietly entered our country without so much as a fan selfie, he’s proven that if you don’t behave like an attention-seeking toddler on too much red cordial, you can make that life of luxury work for you. Maybe he can’t go for a wander unnoticed through Darling Harbour, but I’d happily swap that for a random flight to Paris.

Hell, right now I’d be happy just to find a babysitter so I can get to the movies.

A picture Justin Bieber posted to Instagram yesterday of what is presumably his Sydney hotel room.