Tabloids Category
The news as told by the UK’s tabloid press – The Sun, Daily Express, Daily Mail, Daily Mirror, Daily Star and News of the World.
Toff His Head
“‘INSTANT JUSTICE’ TO NAIL THE YOBS,” announces the Sun, adding approvingly that police chiefs are demanding powers to bar the aforementioned troublemakers from town centres.
One candidate for such powers – let’s call him Harry Baseball-Cap – has been making a nuisance of himself in central London for some time, and his antics have gained him a certain notoriety in the pages of the Sun itself.
The paper describes how he smokes, drinks, “gropes pretty girls” and “enjoys lap-dancing” (whether as spectator or dancer it doesn’t say). He is often present during night-club brawls, although not as a participant, as the papers are always careful to add. Ditto his obvious refusal to join his “dope-smoking friends” in their filthy habit.
They are careful to add these qualifications because the estate from which this particular yob hails is a royal one. He is of course Prince Harry, and that makes quite a difference. Far from decrying his boorish behaviour, the Sun claims that “his popularity has sky-rocketed” and “he is now being hailed as the greatest playboy prince”. Furthermore, “Girls dream of a date while guys list Harry as the person they’d most like a beer with.”
A survey of the Anorak offices reveals a slightly different result. The “girls” put Harry below Tony Blair, Julian Barnes and Fred West on their list of dream dates, and he failed to make the “guys’” list of drinking companions at all.
Indeed, old Mr Anorak says he would rather be tied to a radiator and forced to drink Terry Waite’s urine. But no matter, we accept that the Sun is more in tune with contemporary Britain than we are.
“So what is it about this shy, loveable rascal that makes him impossible to dislike?” asks the paper. That is what’s known as a rhetorical question, as the answer clearly lies in the smoking, drinking, lap-dancing, etc.
But we ask the same question in a spirit of genuine enquiry. If any readers would like to persuade us of his hidden charms, we would be delighted to hear from them.
In the meantime, the paper asks another question: “Is Harry history’s WILDEST prince?”
Well, there was Prince Albert, whose name will go down in history as both a cock-ring and a genital piercing. Then there’s The Artist Formerly Known as Prince, who wowed a generation with his libidinous pop music and far-out threads. Then there was Prince Michael of Kent, with his masonic apron and his fun-loving wife…
But let’s face it, they’re history. Harry is the face of today and tomorrow. If fact, the Sun claims that “the future of the Royal Family may yet lie with the pin-up prince with a glint in his eye.”
Pin-up prince? Over to you, readers…
Diddy Rocks Up
P DIDDY is like the young lad who wants to be a rock star so spends hours in his bedroom practicing throwing his telly out of the window and calling down to his mum for room service.
We live in an age of non-singing celebrity singers. If it’s not Britney Spears appearing on a reality TV show, it’s Pete Doherty not turning up for a concert and P Diddy arriving in Blighty to promote himself.
The Mirror says Diddy’s bullet-proof car is waiting for him on the runway as he flies in from Ibiza. He heads to his central London hotel. But the car is too big for the roads. The obvious move is to make the roads wider. But time is pressing, and the car is forced to park around the corner. Another smaller car is summoned to take Diddy the 300 yards to the hotel door.
Then he’s off to Radio 1 for an interview. The Mirror looks on as the only one of Ken Dodd’s backing group to pursue a solo career arrives at the station’s offices.
The rules of pop stardom dictate that the star must behave in a certain way. So he rejects the food on offer because it is served on polystyrene plates. A lackey nips to a café to get the crockery.
Diddy is happier now. And happier than he was in Ibiza. The Sun says while on the island thieves stole Diddy’s £6million necklace.
As a spokesman for the star says (Diddy doesn’t even have to speak, let alone sing): “It’s a trademark for rappers. It’s a status symbol. He will feel lost without it.”
Not that he’s making much of a song and dance about it…
Dirty Harry
FOLLOWING the sensational news that middle-classes aren’t always white and law abiding (see the alleged plot to attack Heathrow Airport), the Sun brings more news of the changing social strata.
The paper’s front page (“DIRTY HARRY”) shows flame-haired Prince Harry on a “wild night out” in London”. Harry is in the company of one Natalie Pinkham.
But you’d be mistaken for supposing that the prince and the young gel are taking tea in the gazebo or discussing fine art in the vicar’s parlour in a racy manner. Harry is fianced to Chelsy Davy of the African Davys, say you, and having kissed her convention necessitates marriage.
But you are wrong. The picture of Harry, taken in London’s Boujis nightclub, shows the royal cradling Natalie’s breast.
Inside the paper, spread over two pages, we see another shot of “THE PAW PRINCE”, and yet another as Harry, now dubbed “SQUEEZER GEEZER” kisses the cheek of a second girl.
“Harry was really going for it,” says a source. “He had his hands all over her [Natalie] and was kissing her on the face. At one point he reached his arm around her and gave her a proper grope on the breast.”
It is a scene enacted in many less salubrious clubs and drinking holes and shows us that in touching a commoner Harry has developed the common touch.
The onlooker says Natalie seemed “very shocked” but didn’t mind much. “I don’t suppose it’s every day an heir to the throne feels you up.”
Indeed not. Being fondled in public by a royal is a rare honour afforded to only the truly fortunate. Natalie joins an elite band who can boast chests by royal appointment.
Off His Face
SO far the War on Terror has lacked the celebrity element that would get us all sitting up and really taking notice.
But things are changing. And as we read the Star’s story about how five-year-old Hannah Edwards had her passport application rejected because she was showing her shoulders in the photo, something the paper says may offend Muslims, a story in the Sun catches our eye.
Hannah is not alone. Indeed she now has a champion to fight her corner. He is Pete Doherty, saviour of the western press and scourge of what tabloids will surely come to call the passport Taliban.
Due to headline a show in Ibiza, Pete was forced to cancel. The Sun says he had lost his passport; the Star says it expired when he was in rehab. Whatever the reason, Pete needed a new one.
But in the race to get the paperwork completed in time, Pete failed to read the rules and submitted photographs of himself in the incorrect mode.
A source who saw the pictures says: “Pete’s head was leaning forward. It looked like he was nodding off.”
This is clearly pickiness on the part of the border guards. Rather than lowering the rules Pete is raising the bar, producing photographs that not only show his face but explain his character and general demeanour.
For his pictures, Pete could dress up in a tuxedo and sit with back erect, steely eyes staring straight ahead, but the snaps would fail to capture the essence of the person. They would be less than useless.
Pete is ahead of his time. And the visionless authorities rejected his passport application. And that meant Pete was unable to travel to Ibiza and play.
This is a disappointment. But at least now the War on Terror has a celebrity face – and if you crane your neck you can almost make it out…
A Man With Conviction
LOOK everyone! It’s Boy George and he’s wearing an orange bib and carrying a brush and spade.
Usually we only see stars from the Eighties when they’re performing in cabaret tours with their aging peers and Nick Kershaw.
But here’s George on the cover of the Mail, showing the world that he’d rather sweep the streets than share a stage with Duran Duran.
But things are not as they seem. And over in the Mirror (“Culture Scrub”) we learn that George is performing the role of road sweeper as part of his community service order.
Having been found guilty of falsely reporting a break-in at his Manhattan apartment, George was instructed to do five days’ community service.
So here is George at 7am in New York’s Chinatown sweeping up discarded pork buns. And things are going well until the photographers arrive.
If humiliation is the intention, then the punishment is correct. George is on display. Both the Sun and Mirror carry the same shot of George sweeping up as around 15 photographers and one film crew look on.
“F**k off,” says George. “This is pathetic, he says. “This is supposed to be community service and you’re just making it a nightmare.”
And: “F**k off. Go away. My mum was a cleaner…I’m no queen. I just want to do my community service. Now f**k off.”
But they don’t. And the Sun looks on a George breaks for a cigarette and eyes up his uniformed supervisor. “I am now going to have sex with the guard,” he says.
Well, the ground is now clean enough…
Introducing Suri Cruise
QUESTIONS still remain – Is she part alien? Is her head shaped like a flying saucer? Does she speak fluent French? But we can report that Suri Holmes-Cruise is here.
The Sun says Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes have “showed off” their baby at a Hollywood event. The occasion was the eighth birthday party of Will Smith’s son Jaden.
This was Suri’s big unveiling. For four months she has not left the Cruise compound, kept away from prying eyes and they who would stare.
But now she is out. And an insider who attended the party says what they saw. “Suri is a beautiful baby with no deformities that I could see,” says the source.
And: “She has gorgeous dark curly hair and looks like Tom.”
Where Suri’s curly hair appears, we are not told, nor if it is unusual for a child to resemble a 44-year-old man.
More to follow…
Posted: 14th, August 2006 | In: Tabloids | Comment (1)
PG Rated
FIRST she was banned from travelling to Ibiza in case she met Russell Brand. Then she was banned from heading to the party island lest she should happen upon Pete Doherty and score a modelling contract. Now Peaches Geldof, daughter of Bob Geldof and the late Paula Yates, is in Ibiza.
And the Star spots her giving a demented ‘V’ sign to the camera – a kind of Kajagoogoo meets John Prescott. Peaches is DJing at a club.
Peaches performs under the name Trash Pussies, the name a variation on the girl bands Atomic Kitten and the Pussycat Dolls; a name seemingly made by committee.
And Peaches’s adventures in music may make her famous. Indeed, the Sun says Peaches is on course to be a “huge” star – “but not necessarily for the right reasons.”
The paper’s Victoria Newton says everywhere she has seen her, Peaches has been the most visible face in the crowd. She’s dancing on podium and “making sure she’s seen. Look, there she is in the sun, flipping her trademark ‘V’ for vapid.
At one point Victoria spots Peaches taking off her thong and chucking it to the audience from the “VIP balcony” at the island’s Bar M. She flashes a boob as she changes her top.
Peaches seems to crave attention. “She sniffs them [the famous] out and tries to get involved.”
She could be called a hanger-oner. But she’s making her own way. And if Bob will let her go, she’s sure to make it…
Edward Syringehands
HERE comes Pete Doherty. He’s got syringes where his fingers should be. He’s Edward Smackhands.
The Star says that Doherty is just like Edward Scissorhands, the man of fiction. And just as Edward was not by woman born, Pete has been manufactured – by a press eager to tell us stories of his life.
And now you can buy Pete memorabilia. On a certain well-known Internet auction site, fans can purchase one of Pete’s old heroin implants.
Chances are that a dose of smack is not included in the lot – Pete says, “Don’t worry, it is clean and has no drugs or blood on it”.
But not to worry, the high comes from knowing that you own something that has been inside the man with the great rock ‘n’ roll lifestyle, if not the great rock ‘n’ roll songs.
And it might even be an implant that Kate Moss once caressed through Pete’s pasty flesh.
And the model is caressing him again. As the Mail says (“I’m still hooked on Pete”), Pete and Kate are back together again. And it may be a permanent reunion.
In “I’m with the band”, the Sun spots a big silvery ring on Kate’s finger. This, it says, is an engagement ring. The band, and the Mail’s news that Kate told newlywed friends “It’s going to be me next”, point to a wedding.
It’s sure to be a do the papers will cover in no small detail. And we can already reveal that for it Pete will be wearing a new implant…
A Scary Kind Of Love
IT is a lucky break. Having foiled the alleged plot to blow up ten airliners, the Mirror reports that the “teenage girlfriend” of one of the suspects is blonde.
This means her picture must appear on the front of the paper (it does). It’s a far more inviting proposition for readers tired to shots of swarthy, wire-haired men.
This blonde is called Faith Wall. She is just 17. And she says that when she heard Muslim convert Donald Stewart-Whyte had been arrested in connection with the alleged plot she “was shaking and crying. I kept saying ‘They must have made a mistake.”
That remains to be seen. But for now the paper tells us more about the woman with “MY LOVE FOR TERROR SUSPECT”. And before we go on we should say that Faith no longer dates Donald. They couple split when she found out he had been seeing another girl behind her back.
Donald then converted to Islam, changing his name to Abdul Waheed and marrying a Muslim girl.
And now Faith tells us about the man she knew. He was very romantic”. He bought her roses and sent her cards.
He wrote her poems. The Mirror reproduces one. It goes: “…Take life seriously/ And live well not die young as I will/ If I follow this path/ This lonely/ dark/ off-road path.”
It doesn’t rhyme – Faith never said he was good at writing poems. But “he was very cheeky”. He was “very nice”. And “you felt you cold trust him”. And that’s better than “Faith, your love is better than an eighth…of hash” – the Sun says Donald was once hooked on dope.
And sure he had a temper. But a spell at anger–management classes revealed him to be just a “typically middle-class, anti-establishment teenager”.
There was nothing to worry about. Donald was what passes for normal. And if you doubt us, you can ask his blonde lover…
Weather Or Not
EVERY day of every week the Mail thinks up imaginative ways to remind you that life is cruel and you are going to experience pain and die.
Here is a selection of things that will kill you and yours from last week’s paper of doom…
MONDAY
“BIRTH DRUG’S CANCER LEGACY. Thousands of women face double risk of breast cancer over pill their mothers took” – Beware the “wonder drug” DES. It’s the “silent thalidomide”
“Pushy parent syndrome. Children suffer stress and depression as middle-class mothers demand success” – I blame the nanny
“Cannabis law is boosting hard drug use” – Better stick to the legal stuff, like Prozac and Valium
“Unhappy and unfit. Family break-ups leave British children among Europe’s most deprived” – Deprived of what? Crisps..?
“Divorce raises heart risk in women by 50 per cent” – So say researchers at University of Texas
TUESDAY
“Like so many tourists, I didn’t take my malaria pills. It was a mistake that almost cost my life” – TV presenter Kate Humble tells us all about her cerebral malaria
“A new breed to ‘super cereals’ claims to lower cholesterol, aid digestion and boost all-round health. But while some live up to their promise, others aren’t all that they seem…CEREAL OFFENDERS” – Bacon and eggs all round
WEDNESDAY
“Blair flies out to Barbados as Lebanon death toll grows” – They say he lacks the power to do anything; they want him to solve the crisis; they want him to go; they don’t want him to go to Barbados
“Breathing pesticides ‘can trigger MS and Parkinson’s disease’” – So says the Energy & Environmental Research Centre at the University of North Dakota
THURSDAY
“Long, hot summer takes its toll on our wildlife” – Look on the bright side, the heat may even kill all those foreign invaders, like the American signal crayfish
“NO WONDER HE’S WORRIED. This week John Reid (and even the Guardian’s high priestess Polly Tonybee) admitted being seriously concerned about unchecked immigration…with good reason, as this chilling dispatch from the gangster capital of Europe shows” – Bulgaria is coming to a town hear you
“PARADISE LST. As a Sixties hippy, Irma Kurtz spent a blissful year in Ibiza – then an unspoilt haven of innocence and peace. This year, she returned. What she found shocked even this most liberal of agony aunts…” – Irma had grown old!
FRIDAY
“Will we be so lucky the next time?” – Who says it was luck that foiled the alleged terrorist plot at Heathrow Airport?
“NHS prescribing blunders kill 36 patients in a year”
“Gambler, womaniser, drinker and brawler. So that’s why John Terry has been made captain of England” – But can he play football?
“The death of physics” – Can physics die? Discuss using examples where relevant
This Is A Bomb
“DID THEY FOIL A NEW 9/11?” asks the Mail’s front-page question. It’s a 15-page special. It’s a good effort.
And it would have been the most extensive reporting on the alleged plot to destroy ten passenger-laden airplanes had it not been for the Mirror. “MADNESS,” it says. And you can read all about the insanity right up page 17.
The Mirror wins! The Mirror has delivered more in-depth reporting on the big news story. Or has it just padded out its newssheet with spurious detail and guesswork?
We look again. And we see that over two pages headlined (in a big font) “MASS MURDER AT 34,000FT” there is an artist’s impression of what might have happened had the terrorists boarded a plane.
The Mail, which came in second in the coverage stakes, uses half a page to show us what a terrorist might have looked like as he took liquid chemicals from an onboard accomplice and set off to the toilets to make a bomb. He has a beard, full lips and wears a blue jumper.
Over in the Mirror, the accomplice is wearing a white shirt. He passes through airport security. In scene two of four, he hands the liquid to the bomb maker (blue shirt; no beard) who, as in the Mirror, goes to the airplane’s toilet to concoct his deadly device.
The Mirror then shows the man (still in his blue shirt) planting a bomb in the toilet. And the result? Well, over an entire page, Mirror readers get to see a cartoon of what a plane would look like with an orange flame coming out of one side.
But it’s not all art. There are photographs in the Mirror, too. And one page on from the big bang is a big picture of a British passport in a plastic bag and the caption: “Only essential items…will be permitted”…
Air Bags
THIS is a day for questions.
What turns a radical Muslim into an extremist prepared to board an airplane to America and murder hundreds of people at random? It’s hard to say.
The Mail wants to know: “Why did Blair go on holiday?” Perhaps to show the Islamicists that we Britons cannot be cowed. We will holiday if we want to. We shall not be beaten on the beaches etc.
But the big question is the Sun’s headline poser: “Is this the end of hand luggage?” This is the “WAR ON FREEDOM” and the enemy wants to take away our right to carry hand luggage onboard a plane.
It’s the thin edge of a wedge. First hand luggage, next footballers’ wives Chloe handbags in lurid shades of yellow and green, and onto those huge backpacks sported by antipodeans. The enemy cannot be allowed to defeat our right to bear bags, however hideous and invasive.
“UP YOURS,” says the front-page headline in the Star. “TWO FINGERS TO THE TERRORISTS” is the clear message. It’s always the message in times of war.
And on the point of mentioning the Dunkirk spirit, the Express spots a gaggle of six girls dressed up in spangly tiaras and scarfing bottles of booze at London’s Gatwick Airport.
They can take our hand luggage but they can never take our alcopops.
Other holidaymakers tell the paper that they will not surrender their summer holidays.
“Terrorists or no terrorists, I am having my holiday,” says Spain-bound Gabrielle Gibbs. Eden McEwan, age 6, puts on a “brave smile” and hands over her favourite teddy bear to the authorities at Heathrow Airport. Teddy (name not supplied) is shrink wrapped and ready to be detonated in a controlled explosion.
And this defiance has a celebrity face. The Star spots French footballer Djibril Cisse waiting to board a flight to New York.
“No one is making a fuss,” says Cisse, who “refused to jump the queue”.
But still not everyone can catch a flight. And in trying times the Mirror acts as a hub of information. As the paper’s headline advises: “If you can’t fly, try train, car or ferry.”
The paper equips its piece with pictures of these alternative modes of transport. And enlarging on the Mirror’s good work we’d like to add hot air balloon, racing yacht and hovercraft to the list (pictures available on request).
And through the din of defiance, the Mirror hears a “voice of reason”. It belongs to Saira Khan. She’s appeared on the reality TV show The Apprentice, and is ideally placed to offer her views on the attempted destruction of 10 passenger planes. Saira is also Muslim.
She says that living in the UK is a good thing and that she loves being British. She urges the moderate Muslim community to “wake up to the radicalisation” of their community.
They must join the democratic debate – is this the end of hang luggage? Or not?
The Will To Live
FETCH the last will and testimony.
There is news that Sir Paul McCartney may not be feeling that well.
On the day the Mirror hears Charles Stapely, step-dad to Paul’s estranged wife Heather, say that his daughter “deserves £200m” in any divorce settlement, the Express brings news of Paul’s health.
The picture of the old head-bobbler shows a man looking gaunt and thin. Another shot shows The London Clinic in Harley Street where Paul was given a thorough examination.
A source tells the paper that Paul had tests on his heart, hair and wallet. OK, not his hair, and not his wallet. But medical staff did check him out.
And they had good reason to. A source says: “Paul came in with his daughter Mary and was complaining of not feeling well… He looked quite pale and was obviously feeling out of sorts.”
But there is nothing to worry about. Paul’s spokesman tells the paper that his client has “regular MoTs as recommended for anyone of his age”.
But might the stress of divorce from Heather be affecting Paul’s health? And might it be an idea to check his will.
And for Heather to avoid giving him any sudden shocks or surprises lest he keel over and leave it all to her…
G Whizz
“I’M GINORMOUS.”
On a day of drama, we wonder what would have occupied the nation’s front pages had it not been for the new developments in the War On Terror.
And we get some idea in the Sun where “mega-boobed” Katie Andre is wearing a bra made entirely from sweets – jelly rings, cola bottles and love hearts. She’s a “jelly babe”.
And the big news is that Katie’s Jordans are not the 32DD it said on the packet when she bought them. No. They are a 30G.
“I know I’ve got big boobs but I never realised they were THAT big,” says Katie. The mo-del is gob-stoppered.
But why the sweets? The Star, which carries the same photo of Katie, explains. It tells us that Katie has launched a range of lingerie.
The designs are based on sweets and feature colours like marshmallow, popcorn and jelly beans. There may even be a Parma Violet-coloured bra.
But for the last word in underwear, the Sun introduces readers to the bra with a TV screen on each cup. It’s the future.
And if Katie produces one, you’ll be able to pick up terrestrial and satellite TV…
When Suri Met The Beckhams
SURI Holmes-Cruise where are you?
We have yet to see pictures of Suri. But the Star says a representation from the UK will soon be granted an audience with this mythical creature.
Victoria and David Beckham have been invited to gaze upon the child. But that is pretty much all.
The Star says that Tom Cruise has decreed that his guests observe a set of requests.
As the doctrine of Scientology says, parents are forbidden from “fawning” over their children or taking photographs of them during their first few months on planet Earth. And the rules extend to their relatives and guests.
As a source says: “David and Victoria are honoured that Tom and Katie have asked them along.” Indeed. The source continues: “Apparently they can’t take any photographic equipment, they’re banned from touching Suri and they’re not allowed to do any baby-talk around her.”
And: “It will be very difficult for Victoria, because she loves babies.” For sure. But Victoria must take care when she talks, especially to Day-vid, lest Suri become “mentally unstable”.
That would be terrible. Although mental upset can have as much to do with inherited traits as nurture…
Lindsay Lohan Tat
YOU can get bored looking at Lindsay Lohan. Although the Sun, which dubs the actress “Lazy Lohan”, seems to be utterly captivated by the “seriously idle” star.
Lindsay might not do much, but when she does do something you can rest assured that the Sun will be on hand to tell us all about it.
And while we look at the freckly one doing very little, numbering her many freckles and joining them up to make interesting shapes (look, there’s a sardine on her arm), the Sun sees Lindsay’s new tattoo.
Lindsay has joined up some of her freckles on her hip. She has formed the words “La Bella Vita”. This, apparently, translates into English as “The Beautiful Life”.
This, of course, is the name of a restaurant in the Garforth area of Leeds. And if Lindsay is going to do very little we applaud her decision to use her body for advertising.
And more Loh-Ads may be in the pipeline. The Sun says Lindsay is to open a “boutique-style” tattoo parlour “to cater for her Hollywood pals”.
So look out for other Loh-Ads for things like Paris Hilton’s new perfume, Kate Moss’s guide to rehab and much, much more appearing on Lindsay’s barely moving body soon…
Queen Of Tarts
WHAT with her blonde-ish hair, choice of lawyer and patronage of a landmine charity, Heather Mills could be the new Princess Diana.
If only she’d give an interview with Martin Bashir and tilt her head to one side in the manner of a demure budgie we could all take her to our hearts.
But it is not to be. The dye is cast and it has been decided that Heather is not someone we should like.
On the Mail’s front page we see Heather on her way to a meeting with her lawyer, Dr Anthony Julius. Heather wears a pair of white trousers and an equally white waistcoat over bare skin. It’s a tragic outfit, suggesting to us that Heather’s mind is a whirl and that she is letting her appearance go.
But the Star employs a psychiatrist to tell us that the outfit is a deliberate choice. Heather’s clothes say she isn’t “going to be intimidated by £1,000-an-hour Julius”. His rates might well have doubled (the paper had him on £500-an-hour yesterday), but Heather’s Status Quo-chic will put him in his place.
Or not. The Star’s woman in the know says Heather’s “spangly, disco vest top” “backfired badly”. “Wearing a scruffy top was both disrespectful and arrogant,” says this shrink.
So Heather puts on something else. And the Sun spots her dressed in a pair of shabby blue trousers and a grey velour top. She’s cycling along the promenade at Brighton. Like Diana, Heather’s outfits are big news, and she likes to keep fit.
The Mail, which sees the same scene, says the picture is “loaded with symbolism”. Heather is joined on her ride by two minders. And she is paying for them out of her own pocket.
What this symbolises is pretty unclear. Heather is paying for her own protection and that suggests a new freedom from estranged husband Sir Paul McCartney? Or are two minders on pushbikes symbols of a woman desperate to be noticed?
And then there is the nickname. While Di, allegedly, had extra-marital affairs and was called “Shy Di”, “Princess of Hearts” and “squidgy”, Heather, who has remained faithful throughout her marriage, is “Lady Mucca”.
And the Mirror leads with a front-page story on “THE REAL LADY MUCCA”. Dianna Karmal, the sister of Heather’s first husband Alfie Karmal, says Heather “creates a persona for herself to fit the situation”.
The “dumpy girl” was “prone to lying”. “She was a complete fantasist.” “She had terrible hair and was nothing like model material.”
She’s nothing like Diana at all. Not one bit…
Intimately Yours
YOU’VE got the hair, the perma-tan and the bust, now all you need is the expression and you too can be just like Victoria Beckham.
And hold the collagen gun. All you need to get that pout is to do as Vicky does and suck on a lemon. But take care, as the Star says: “She sucks on lemon to get preggy.” Lemons can make you pregnant? And not just lemons but oranges, grapefruits and apples.
A source says that someone told Vicky that eating a highly acidic diet will boost her chances of giving birth to a girl.
But if fruit is not your thing, do not despair. The Mirror says that Vicky is bringing out a new fragrance – your body can smell like hers even if your breath doesn’t.
Called Intimately, the eau de Vicky will come in a pink and silver box. What it smells like is anyone’s guess but don’t rule out a heady bouquet of lemons.
And take care not to confuse Vicky’s essence with her husband’s. Day-vid perfume is also called Intimately and might not smell of lemons but of something more in keeping with his life, like sweat, grass and new money…
Calling Cads
“HAS CHARLES BEEN BUGGED?”
It’s the big question on the front page of the Mail. And we cannot give a definitive answer either way.
If this were the Express, there would a phone poll for readers to say “yes” or “no”. But the Mail has no such devices and just leaves the question hanging, something to discuss at the Women’s Institute meeting and bowls club. Or to put in a letter to the editor of the golf club.
But we need some substance, and the paper obliges by telling us that three men have been arrested; and not just any three but three journalists, one a senior hack at the News of The World.
He’s called Clive Goodman. He’s the NOTW’s royal editor. And it is alleged that he has listened to “dozens” of messages left by senior courtiers at Buckingham Palace.
Sources tell the paper that the Crown Prosecution Service says charges against the men are “extremely likely”. A police spokesman says there could be “grave consequences” for the alleged eavesdroppers.
It’s all just too awful. And though the Mail is above such things, we cannot help but wonder what has been overheard.
And such a matter is not without form. The Mail recalls the Squidgygate scandal, when an amateur radio enthusiast apparently intercepted a phone call between Princess Diana and James Gilbey. (Gilbey was heard calling Diana “Squidgy” a number of times.)
And there was the Camillagate incident, the unsavoury overheard conversation between Charles and his then mistress is which the heir to the throne expressed a desire to be reincarnated as his lover’s tampon.
Perhaps in time we will learn what Charles and Camilla talk about over the phone now they are married. And if Charles ever got his wish…
A Battle Royal
LOOK out for the official rose, the Lady Heather Mills McCartney memorial tartan and the Heather Portrait of a Young Wife Sheer Enchantment figurine.
As the front-page of the Mirror tells us, Heather has secured the services Anthony ‘Genius’ Julius, the very lawyer who represented Princess Diana in her divorce from Prince Charles.
Dr Julius is Vice-President of the Diana, Princess of Wales Memorial Fund, which currently offers to lend her sainted name to all manner of memorabilia, including a mother and baby range of goods (available only in Japan), a silk rose based on Jackson and Perkins’s Diana, Princess of Wales Rose (USA) and four 1,000-piece jigsaws (UK).
If Julius fails to get his client a big settlement – Diana scooped £17million – it is encouraging to think of Heather earning a few quid by lending her name to all manner of books, games and novelty devices.
And while we look forward to the Heather Mills Salt ‘n’ pepper mill, the Mail tells us that Sir Paul will be represented by Fiona “The Steel Magnolia” Shackleton, who – shock of shocks – was Prince Charles’s brief in the aforesaid royal divorce.
It a “RIGHT ROYAL SHOWDOWN” says the Star. And to help build the tension, the paper hears from Fiona. Says she: “I like sticking up for people, making sure they are not taken advantage of.”
And it hears from the actor Stephen Fry. He calls Julius “the most intelligent man I have ever met”.
Both sides will surely disagree on much. But they have reached a consensus on one key point: both Julius and Shackleton are worth £500-an-hour.
Who says no-one wins in a divorce?
Hullo Dave
“HULLO clouds, hullo sky.”
There is something of the Basil Fotherington-Thomas about David Beckham.
The former England captain is not all that unlike the “gurl” from the Molesworth books. Hullo clouds, hullo sky, hullo angel at the top of my arm. Hullo.
Becks has a new tattoo. In time to come, Dave may just use photographs of his skin to form the substance of his autobiography. These days you don’t look at Beckham, you read him and appreciate the artwork.
And what art it is. The Sun has a picture of Dave’s new-look right arm. It features an angel and some clouds.
We can gaze at the clouds all day and see what shapes they make as Dave flexes his muscles and, in time to come, surely puts on weight.
And finally get to play in goal…
Mini Bea
AS soon as we saw the picture of Princess Beatrice braying like an eroticised donkey and sucking on a wealthy Texan’s toe our only question was why it had taken so long.
Of course this is not true, we made it up. Princess Bea might have a shortened name like her mum Sarah ‘Fergie’ Ferguson, but that is where the similarities begin and end.
Although Bea wants more. As the Mirror’s headline says, Bea wants to be the “MINI MUMMY”.
“Looking strikingly like mum Sarah”, Bea joins her mater on a tour of young cancer patients at University College Hospital (Sarah is patron of the Teenage Cancer Trust).
Both dressed in tailored jackets over white tops, Sarah and mini-me Bea are photographed doing the rounds. This is Bea’s first official engagement.
It is Bea’s 18th birthday today and she delivers her thoughts and dreams for the future in what the Sun calls a “cringe-worthy interview”.
“I see myself as a mini-mummy,” the Mail hears her say. She turns to her mother. “I kind of have this image that anything you can do, I want to do better.”
It’s a noble ambition. And we look out for Bea trumping her mother’s many notable achievements – getting her hair redder, her children’s helicopter to soar higher and her boyfriend’s toes to be longer and fuller.
Bea goes on: “She is the best advice-giver I could possibly ever wish for. She leads by example and her behaviour is one that I’d really like to follow.”
We wish Bea well. But there aren’t all that many princes around these days and she may be forced to kiss a few frogs’ feet before she can emulate her mummy…
Kate Moss Does Doherty
THE Mirror has a big photograph of Kate Moss.
Kate is wearing a black leather coat of the type once favoured by the Gestapo and effete men in the mid 1970s.
But this is not the only news. The still bigger story is that Kate and Peter Doherty are “CRACK TOGETHER”.
There are no shots of the pair in a recording studio sniffing sherbet/cocaine/talcum powder/anthrax/etc., only one of Kate and Pete at the Rhythm music festival.
The Mirror looks on as Kate and Pete arrive together. “It’s a small intimate festival,” says one onlooker, “and the last person we expected to see was someone as glamorous as Kate Moss. But to see her and Pete was just phenomenal.”
It could be the Mirror talking. News that Cocaine Kate and pop f***wit Pete are back together should fill the considerable gap in the paper brought about by the imminent end of TV’s Big Brother.
And it could still be the paper’s man on the spot talking as the eyewitness says: “They were acting like a couple of honeymooners.”
The source goes on: “You’ve never seen a couple so tactile.” They were “stroking each other”, “laughing and touching the whole time” and “whispering sweet nothings”.
But it was not always so and the Mirror does not miss the chance to give its readers a potted history of Kate and Pete’s life, focusing on the drugs, the drugs and the, er, drugs.
Anyone would think that without drugs Kate and Pete are not so interesting. But they’d be wrong. Just get a load of Kate’s leather coat!
Little Miss Mucca
IS the Mail angling for a post-divorce interview with Lady Heather Mills McCartney?
In a piece on how the estranged wife of Sir Paul McCartney arrives at the London home she once shared with the singer to find the locks not responding to her keys, she is called “Miss Mills”.
The locks have been changed and Miss Mills is said by a source to be “mortified”. For five minutes she fights to get in.
Things get worse when the security guard “failed to recognise her” and calls the police.
While the Mail’s Miss Mills struggles, the Mirror’s man in the street spots the police arrive and speak with “Lady Heather Mills-McCartney”.
This is front-page news. The paper senses her “public humiliation” in “another low” in her “increasingly acrimonious divorce” from Paul.
And there is a shift in the tale. Rather than Miss Mills waiting forlornly outside the house, the Mirror has her ladyship’s security guard scaling the mansion’s wall. This is why Paul’s guard called the police.
There seems to be some confusion. But at least the Sun is clear in its approach. In the front-page story “Mucca’s cop quiz”, the paper hears a “Mucc, Mucc” on the door.
There is mention of Lady Mucca’s “seedy porno past”. The whole thing is a “muck-up”. “Lady Mucca” is “embarrassed”.
And over in the Mail, Miss Mills is pictured standing next to her husband in happier times. At least this paper understands. Perhaps the Mail will understand when demure Miss Mills speaks to it after the divorce..?
Victoria Beckham’s New Diet
HAVING removed her hair extensions, Victoria Beckham might be lighter than ever. Indeed, there are rumours that if she removes her sunglasses and lip gloss she will blow away. It’s not just her family that keep her grounded.
And now there is news that Victoria is changing. In a new career move that will shock and amazed her fans, she is planning to put on weight.
The Mail reports that David Beckham has put his wife on a “carbohydrate-laden diet”.
Since no-one who isn’t a celebrity or American has a clue what a carbohydrate is, let alone how you pick one and cook it, the Mail finds a source willing to explain.
“Her new diet will be very carbohydrate-driven,” says the source, “and rather than picking at sushi and steamed vegetables, she will be tucking into lots of bread, pasta and brown rice – even crisps if that’s what she fancies.”
Interesting. And all the more interesting when we learn that such a diet can help you get pregnant.
The feeling at the Mail is that Posh is going for child No. 4 and carbohydrates are just what she needs to create a new Beckham.
And crisps…
