Archive for the ‘Celebrities’ Category

It seems to be common knowledge that female sex symbols from the past were more voluptuous than present day celebrities and Marilyn Monroe is often cited as a fuller figured woman who would be a bit too much on the hefty side to be considered an attractive leading lady for today’s films.


 But according to Sara Buys article in the Times Online, Monroe only weighed around 8 stones and was probably nearer a size 10 than a 16 . I’m kind of disappointed to read that and the news near enough put me off dunking my doughnut (iced). It’s as if Marilyn’s went over to the other side in more ways than one. I liked the idea of her being a bit of a big girl, or at the very least a size 14. But, seemingly, she was only big where it counted — 30E bust and nice curvy hips. She’d still be considered too fat for film these days, though. Weird.

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Sex Sells

Statement of the Obvious: Sex Sells

Loved Camilla Lang’s ‘A head for business and a body for sin’, subtitle for her interview with Scarlett Johansson in this week’s Times Online. The nicely scoffing ‘Attagirl’ at the end sum’s up Lang’s wised-up cynicism on the subject of turning sex appeal ‘into gold’.

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It’s true — all you have to do is stick this picture of Kelly Brook up on your fridge, so you can see it next time you dig in there for your next slice of cheesecake (or other flab maker).

Daily Mail reporters suggest that the reason Brook is looking so happy is because her romance with England rugby star Danny Cipriani is still going strong but I don’t think I’ve ever seen a photograph of her without a smile on her face.

I know that having what scientists claim to be the ‘perfect figure’is not a guaranteed means of achieving happiness (and ‘it’s what inside that counts’ blah, blah, blah…) but it has got to have a pretty high feel-good factor — better than Mars Bars and possibly even pizza.

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Twitter Ye Not

I’ve been Twittering a little. Thought I’d give it a go but can’t really get into it. Some people love it — they’re *obsessed by it. Maybe I’ll come around to it. Weird that Steven Fry is on it — do you think it is the real Steven Fry?

Still not entirely at home at Blogger, either — I might just come back here.

I’m *obsessed about the economy. That’s embarrassing to admit because I think we’ll look back on this time and sneer at all the fools who were panicking about the recession/depression — it will be seen as a condition and will have a name like ‘depression-obsession’.

If you’ve been labeled as a depression-obsession-er, then no-one will employ you (if there’s any jobs left) as employers will only be interested in calm people like Chesney ‘Hero of the Hudson’ Sullerenberger (only younger).

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Is Katy Price Too Old?

Is Katy Price Too Old?

The above photograph was one of a number to feature in a piece in the Daily Mail, in which the reporter posed this question: Aren’t you too old to STILL be stripping off in public, Katie Price?

Katy Price is 30. She was modelling her new lingerie range.

So, is this (unnamed) reporter suggesting that women over the age of 29 shouldn’t model underwear? Whatever you think of Katy  —  tacky/should go blond again/money obsessed/cruel to poor Peter/better without the fake boobs, etc — there’s still something a bit weird about the idea of the under thirty cut-off point.

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Not a Bum Eater?
I’m still over at Larkin & Catcher’s Very Best Things but I’ve been driven back here to comment on something I just heard on Gordon Ramsay’s The F Word — or whatever it is called. It’s the one where he gets a bunch of his ‘celebrity’ mates to cook with him (but every now and then he does a scene with non-celebs — to keep it real).

This Toff — a son of someone who is married into royalty — possibly one of Camilla’s offspring — was arguing that we waste far too much of a pig and that we should eat more offal. He went on to demonstrate this by cooking up a variety of disgusting pig-bits and ending up at the dinner table nibbling on what we were told was a pig’s anus (I’m just thinking that this is the first and almost certainly the last time I will ever type the words  ‘pigs anus’ . Hang on while I savour the moment…).

Gordon (we’re on first name terms — I might even go on his show) mentioned the ‘credit crunch’ (it’s compulsory now on practically every television show — they have to demonstrate that they are socially aware) and how we should eat more offal, as it’s cheap. Or something to that effect — I wasn’t giving it my full attention, as I was in the middle of trying to move a piano (lost earring).

The thought that came into my cynical little head then was that it’s a safe bet to say that the moneybags-anus-eater will not be making a habit of dining out on anything offal-related. Old Ramsey will be giving cooked bums a body-swerve too, no doubt.

No, what I think they were getting at is that the riff-raff should get used to the idea of eating animal body parts that we now think of as unsavoury and not suitable for human consumption. So if the economic situation does go into complete meltdown, our offal-eating will keep us alive, stop us revolting and prevent us from eating the rich.

Nice try Ramsey/Posh Guy but I’m on to you.

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This photograph is from Elf: a Photoblog. I love it.

I love rain — especially when it’s really bucketing down. Rain makes me feel even more alive than usual — must be a scientific explanation for that, electricity in the air or something like it. I’d look it up but I can’t be bothered just now. Hope it’s nothing embarrassing.

I think I’m going to like ‘Elf’s’ photoblog — I usually know within seconds if a blog is going to be one for my favourites list. Have you noticed that I’m–using–even–more–dashes–than–usual  tonight? No idea why. Thinking and writing in *telegraph-style, too. Will stop doing that now.


I thought Natalie Cole was out of order with her moan about Amy Winehouse winning a handful of Grammys. Cole’s argument was that it was akin to rewarding bad behaviour and sends the wrong message to young kids. I kind of get what she means, but the awards were for musical talent (which Winehouse clearly has — in truckloads) and I don’t think they were intended to be given only to those who follow a clean-living lifestyle. Otherwise they’d be called something along the lines of: ‘The Good Music & Best Role Model Awards’.

*While I’m on the subject of telegraphs — check out 16 Sparrows 1920’s telegraph-style stationery. I’ve been writing about it on Larkin & Catcher’s Very Best Things — but I know you can’t be everywhere at once (darn those dashes — they crept up on me again).

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But you’ve no doubt noticed that already. She’s back in the limelight again, thanks to Sweeney Todd (which is a musical? — I don’t know why I think that’s so strange…).

Bonham-Carter has always taking a fair old pounding from the press over her ‘unusual’ fashion choices — to the extent that the words ‘homeless bag lady’ can trigger an automatic association with her name. The British public have a bit of a liking for her, though — partly because we have a soft spot for genuine eccentrics but also because, in a world of ‘plastics’, she stands out as don’t-give-a-damn real. Plus, she can actually act, which — although not a compulsory skill for someone in her profession — must come in handy as the years go by.

Anyway, the Daily Mail have just gone and made a great big fuss about the fact that she was sporting a moustache to the premier of Sweeney Todd. Not that her whiskers were all that noticeable from far off — but the zoom did show that she could give Johnny Depp some competition when it comes to upper-lip foliage.

I’m not going to post that photograph here.

No. I’m not going to encourage that type of thing.

Oh, OK then.


If you’re really desperate to get the full-sized verision  go here.

In her defence I would say this (though there’s no excuse for the teeth):

  • at least she had the decency to bleach it (though that may have made things worse — in terms of a false sense of security brought about by viewing the results in low-light situations)
  • she’s just had a baby — so upper-lip waxing may figure pretty low in her list of priorities
  • no-one over the age of around ten can get away with that kind of close-up without some imperfections showing up

I know that last point is a fact, because I bought a x12 magnification mirror last week (to do my eyebrows) and the thing has had a devastating effect on anyone who’s looked at it. I’m thinking of taking it out and burying it in a deep dark hole somewhere because not only does it make everyone feel bad about themselves — revealing previously invisible open pores, acne scars, moustaches (on girls), spider veins, dangling nose hairs (mostly, but not exclusively, on men) — but the bloody thing is virtually indestructible and mysteriously finds its way back out of waste bins.

Yesterday, a girl I know — who is twenty-two and very beautiful — insisted on looking in the mirror of doom.

“I’m REPULSIVE  — HIDEOUS!” she cried. “And I have a moustache! Why didn’t any of you tell me I have a moustache? I look like… like…”

“Hitler?” suggested someone, helpfully.

I don’t know about you but I think that if any woman was going to get away with a tache — it would be Bonham-Carter.

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amyblonde.jpg Hold the front page — Amy Winehouse has ditched her trademark dark beehive and went for a new short blonde hairstyle. What’s that you’re saying? You don’t give a rat’s behind (I didn’t waste all those precious daylight hours watching Judge Judy without picking-up some of her quaint little utterances, you know). Well, when I stop to think of it, I’m not that bothered what our troubled songstress does with her barnet — but the sight of her as a blonde is just slightly unsettling and leads to highly predictable (get) Back to Black suggestions in every second report of her recent transformation.

I know her exaggerated beehive came in for a good deal of criticism, but I really liked that look and think it had a while to run yet. I can understand why she wanted a change, though — once you get it in your head that you’re sick of the same old look, there’s no stopping you. My obsession just now is a blunt cut. Sharp, no layers. After my last disastrous (many layered) so-called haircut about six months ago, I’ve been determined to get rid of these effing layers. DON’T EVEN MENTION LAYERS TO ME. Just don’t.

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sg.jpg   So how excited are you about that?

I’m pretty sure that the answer from most people would be “not much” or something a lot more emphatic but I think I’d be tempted to go to one of the concerts — if only because it would be a such an event — a minor part of entertainment history. And it would just be kind of weird seeing them all together up on a stage performing — I can’t even imagine what it would be like.

I don’t know if you’ve seen any of their joint press conferences but the one thing that stood out for me about the one I watched was how ill-at-ease Posh seemed. I know she always seems a bit like that — and most of the time she appears to be putting far too much effort into striking a pose — but you’d think she’d have picked up some tips by now on how to appear more relaxed during public appearances.  I just get the feeling she really lacks self-esteem and that she is acting a part most of the time. People sense she’s not ‘genuine’ and don’t warm to her, despite her vulnerabilities.

The other thing I noticed was how glowing Gerry looked — I think I’ll look up what kind of *skincare products she uses and get me some (and don’t give me any of that ‘good genes’ or ‘ditch the junk food’ business’ — I know there’s some magic ingredient out there that will eliminate the need to put in any effort).

Anyway, must go — this is just about the busiest time of my entire life and I’m wasting precious minutes writing about the Spice Girls.

*On second thoughts, I think I’ll probably have to give them a miss, as they’re bound to be more than my upper spending limit (about £10.99).

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