Opinion
As is the case for any forthright woman, opinions on the entrepreneur, model, social media influencer and footballer’s wife Rebecca Judd vary.
One thing we can all agree on: Judd’s ability to attract the public gaze and media attention stands strong. Even after more than 20 years in the limelight, since she turned up with her then partner (now husband) Chris Judd to the 2004 Brownlow Medal count in a red Tarvydas dress so sensational it is better remembered than the actual winner that night (West Coast Eagles midfielder C. Judd).
R. Judd is back in the headlines this week, not because the 43-year-old mum of four was partying at US music festival Coachella with her Melebrity posse, but due to The Age revealing that crime statistics showed burglars are breaking into homes in upmarket neighbourhoods in record numbers.
This vindicated Judd, as Bayside crime is a topic she has campaigned about since at least 2022, attacking Premier Jacinta Allan and her predecessor Dan Andrews for perceived inaction. Andrews said at the time of her initial comments: “I’m sorry she feels that way; the data will tell a different story.”
She’s managed this activism in between spruiking various businesses, collecting appearance fees for strolling the red carpet and promoting various endorsements, such as telling us as an ambassador how she loves/has always loved/will always love the Crown marquee on Melbourne Cup Day.
The last time I encountered Bec Judd in real life, she was in her natural habitat: on a dancefloor with a cocktail glass in her hand held high above the crowd, dancing without spilling a drop. It was during the F1 and she was there promoting the tequila brand Don Julio 1942 or having a good time, or both. Of course she was written up the next day.
None of this has stopped her being vehemently political. Thus on Monday in between posts of her tousled-haired children in their footy uniforms and spruiking a hair product, she “corrected” The Age headline about the Crime Statistics Agency figures that she “may have been right” about the crime rates, by replacing them with “Bec Judd is right about crime”.
She added a caption with more force than any Liberal politician: “And the government still doesn’t care. The Dictator didn’t. Jacinta definitely does not. Vote Labor out this November and make Victoria safe again.”
As a piece of political discourse, it is positively Duttonesque.
But whether you like her or not, Judd is one of those rare Melburnians who tells us something about ourselves.
Barry Humphries told a growing yet mostly unsophisticated city we were still boorish ockers and cringeworthy suburbanites as he satirised our suburbia on the world stage, Kylie Minogue showed any teenage actor could turn into global star and still came home to visit mum and dad, Shane Warne showed immense talent could hide behind effortless larrikinism and still deploy goofy charm no matter how successful he got.
So what does our continuing interest in Bec Judd tells us about ourselves?
Judd was born in Western Australia to a Scottish father and a mother of Maori heritage who worked in the mineral sands industry after emigrating from New Zealand.
After her parents split she divided her time between Perth and regional Western Australia and was brought her up in TV newsrooms where her mum worked as a unit manager, later dropping out of a journalism degree and switching to speech pathology and working at The Alfred after moving to Melbourne when Judd transferred from West Coast to Carlton.
Critics say she weighs in on topics she is not an expert on, does little without collecting a fee, commands attention because she is tall and thin and beautiful and that her frank discussions on plastic surgery on her podcast Vain-ish (“Fillers: how much is too much?) normalises expensive surgery as much as critiquing it.
But fans praise her honesty, her family values, hard work ethic and defend her right to speak out and monetise her appearances. Many of her 756,000 Instagram followers probably think Melbourne would be duller without her as she celebrates the city’s major events culture and shows her love of the city, but in a low-key way that arch superior Sydney celebrities would never countenance.
Two years ago she rejected my interview request while politely thanking me for my interest in Brighton’s “ballooning aggravated crime trend”.
“I’m always happy to comment on my social media when I feel we need a spotlight on something but I don’t love doing interviews,” she wrote.
“In my experience, I’ve always found editors somewhat diminish my opinions because I live in a nice house in a nice suburb. Class warfare gets clicks!”
Like most of us, Bec Judd loves an event, cares about her city and is concerned about crime. She speaks her mind and she keeps it classy.
She may divide opinions, but I’d rather have Bec Judd on the scene than not.
Stephen Brook is The Age’s special correspondent.
The Opinion newsletter is a weekly wrap of views that will challenge, champion and inform your own. Sign up here.
Stephen Brook is a special correspondent for The Age and CBD columnist for The Age and The Sydney Morning Herald. He was previously deputy editor of The Sunday Age. He is a former media editor of The Australian and spent six years in London working for The Guardian.Connect via X or email.From our partners
Read the full article here
