Top 10 takeaways from Victoria Beckham's Netflix show filled with eating disorder confessions and more

Dubai: Victoria Beckham has never been one to lose control — not of her image, her wardrobe, or her words. Now, in her self-titled three-part Netflix documentary, the 51-year-old designer and former Spice Girl finally tells her story on her own terms. Two years after David Beckham’s mega-hit series, she’s ready to step out of his shadow and remind the world that “it’s not about him — it’s about me.”

Here’s what we learned about the woman behind the sunglasses.

Victoria’s famously restrained persona is still intact, but for once she’s steering the narrative. From Spice Girl to fashion powerhouse, she’s been misunderstood as icy or humorless — here, she reclaims her story with the same poise she brings to a runway show.

In a rare admission, Beckham reveals how her battle with an eating disorder taught her to mask pain with perfection. “When you have it, you get very good at lying,” she says. It’s an unvarnished glimpse of the woman behind decades of headlines — a reminder that fame doesn’t shield you from insecurity.

For all the glitter and chaos of the Spice Girls era, it gave her something priceless: belonging. The bandmates who called her “Posh” helped her shed the self-doubt she carried from her school days. “They made me feel enough,” she says — a lesson she now passes to her 14-year-old daughter, Harper.

She laughs now about the tabloid frenzy of the 2006 World Cup in Baden-Baden, calling it “fun, but attention-seeking.” But she’s clear that version of herself had to go. “I buried those boobs in Baden-Baden,” she jokes — a symbolic farewell to the cartoonish “WAG” label that once defined her.

The documentary doesn’t gloss over her brand’s early struggles. Industry gatekeepers dismissed her, and at one point, her company was “tens of millions in the red.” She admits she “almost lost everything” and would cry before work. It’s a rare, vulnerable admission from someone who’s built a career on composure.

The Vogue editor admits she initially thought Victoria’s design ambitions were “a hobby.” Watching Beckham prove her wrong — culminating in her Paris Fashion Week triumph, with Gigi Hadid gliding down the runway and Wintour applauding from the front row — is deeply satisfying television.

Between all the couture and composure, there’s genuine warmth. David turns on the blender to avoid arguments, she teases him for always standing on her “good side” on red carpets — their easy, seasoned rhythm feels real. Twenty-five years later, their chemistry still holds.

Brooklyn Beckham and Nicola Peltz are mentioned only in passing, and any hint of tension is carefully side-stepped. Victoria’s not interested in adding fuel to that gossip fire — this series is about self-definition, not speculation.

The question everyone’s asked for decades finally gets an answer. “The minute I see a camera, my armour goes up,” she says. It’s not misery — it’s self-defence. And yes, she insists she does smile, just from her “better side.” “If I smile from the right, I look unwell,” she quips. Consider the mystery closed.

In the final episode, David jokingly floats the idea of another child. Victoria doesn’t miss a beat: “Another baby? My God, no.” The exchange is pure VB — dry, decisive, and slightly exasperated. She’s done raising kids; now she’s raising an empire. In short, Victoria Beckham is not a warts-and-all confessional — it’s a masterclass in image control. But between the gloss and the brand polish, the cracks let a little light in. You might not get the raw truth, but you’ll get something just as fascinating: a woman who’s learned to survive — and thrive — by editing her own story better than anyone else ever could.

Victoria Beckham is out on Netflix now