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.
Her Weight In Gold
IT’S not too late to get that bikini body. Not if you don’t mind a bit of sweat. And what’s more, this diet is endorsed by a celebrity.
She’s called Keira Knightley. She’s 21. And yesterday she arrived in London’s Leicester Square for the premier of Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man’s Chest. And she came wrapped in foil.
The Star has front and rear shots of Keira (“DEAD FLAT CHEST”) and is stunned by her backless number, created from what appears to be gold foil. For the record, the actress is garnished in more than £100,000 of white gold jewellery.
Keira says she is “not going to apologise” for the way she looks. “I figured it was hot outside and if you can’t wear a dress like this on a day like today then when can you?”
While Keira sheds any retained water, and so loses weight, we note that clothes alone cannot achieve your ideal body shape. Keira’s weight loss regime requires exercise, and we turn to the Sun to see that while talking, Keira is walking, notably down a red carpet. She’s a “treasure”, says the paper.
But the Mail senses what might be a problem. It’s not just the pressure Keira is under to be thin, but what she herself calls her “X-rated” gown.
“I think the thing that made me feel cautious [about wearing the dress] is the fact that it’s the premiere of a kids’ movie. But it’s such a sexy dress. Any girl would feel marvellous in it.”
Surprisingly, the Mail does not seize on this comment, turning purple with rage at this sexualising of young minds.
Instead, like we, it realises that life is all about balance. And if British girls want to ape Keira and wrap themselves in foil then it might just be the only way to fight the fat and defuse the obesity timebomb.
Kingstoon Jafaika
“JAFAICAN is wiping out inner-city English accents.” So ran the Mail headline back in April this year.
The news was that in a desperate bid to look exotic and cool, white yoof were loping round the streets of London and conversing in a Cockney patois.
But now the Mail brings us the story of Lynda Walker, a 60-year-old retired administrator from Newcastle.
Lynda had a minor stoke. He voice was affected. And when it started to return, Lynda was surprised at what she heard.
Speech therapist Frauke Buerk, who treated Lynda after her stroke, says his patient is suffering from Foreign Accent Syndrome. Lynda is talking like a Jamaican.
“Everybody asks where I’m from and if I say Newcastle they laugh – they think I am lying,” says Lynda.
But it is not all bad for Lynda. She’s now the envy of many thousands of impressionable teens from Streatham to Staines.
Now if she can just pull her jeans down around her knees…
Seasons To Be Cheerful
IT’S hot. It’s that week of the year we Britishers call “summer”.
As the Star says: “IT’S HOTTER THAN RIO.” Over here temperatures have soared to 91.4 degrees Fahrenheit, while Rio de Janeiro can only mange a “paltry” 71 degrees.
The Brazilians might well argue that it is their winter time, but their excuses fall on British ears blocked up with sand, sea and suncream.
Britain is all things to all journalists. And while the Star sees Brazil, the Mirror looks at the south coast and sees Florida and Australia.
The Sun’s man in trunks thinks Britain is the new Bermuda. We’ve even got sharks. The paper has a shot, taken from the cliffs above Porthcurno, Cornwall, of a 25ft long basking shark cruising the waters.
Holidaymakers should not fear it. As the Mail says, the beast is not aggressive, and unless you are plankton, you should survive any encounter.
Meanwhile, up in Yorkshire it’s monsoon season. A picture in the Mirror shows lightning strikes and flash floods in Todmorden and Hebdon Bridge. The Mail shows a photograph of motorists pushing cars down a high street that now resembles a small part of the Ganges delta.
Who needs to go overseas when you can stay in Britain and get terrorised by sharks, third degree sunburn and drowned?
Not us.
Death Under The Sun
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
“Scientist prove mobiles do affect the brain” – Italian scientists investigate
“Yes, the Human Rights Act should go. But Dave’s alternative won’t save us from the lawyers” – Melanie Philips is scared of David Cameron’s suits
“Judges wasting days in cases that used to be decided in half an hour. Violent serial offenders walking free. Police and lawyers in despair. What our reporter found when he spend a week at the Old Bailey. So is this… JUSTICE DENIED?!” – Send everyone down!
“We’re woefully unprepared for a bird-flu pandemic, warns doctor” – Dr Steve Hajioff reintroduced bird flu to the Mail
TUESDAY
“JAILED FOR STANDING UP FOR DECENCY” – Josephine Rooney, 69, refused to pay her council tax until something was done about vice in her area. So she broke the law and went to jail. And..?
“The carpe baggers. Peckish Poles are blamed for plunder of our rivers” – They come over here, paint our houses, tend our gardens, catch our ornamental fish…
“The breast scans that may cause cancer in high-risk women” – More for women to worry about
“Labour blamed for cannabis pandemic” – Vote Labour and get stoned
“SATINS. They’re the new anti-cholesterol drugs taken by millions. But with side effects including muscle pain and depression, some experts are now asking: should they be dispensed more carefully” – News to raise heart pressure in sufferers
WEDNESDAY
“Super-casinos alert by doctors” – But it’s got to be more sociable than Internet gambling. No?
“RAUNCH. Is it liberating or destroying women? A life-long feminist argues that the obsession of today’s young women with sexually overt behaviour – from watching pornography to promiscuity – is not empowering, but damaging” – Joan Bakewell rages against the tarts
THURSDAY
“On borrowed time. Ex-Labour minister warning over Britain’s immigration timebomb” – Frank Field stirs the melting pot
“If we no longer treat the dead with dignity, what hope is there for the living?” – Melanie Phillips is alive!
“The 3in invader that could kill off salmon and trout” – The topmouth gudgeon could spoil lunch for ladies that do
FRIDAY
“What business is it of the Nanny State if I let my children eat strawberry-flavoured liquorice shoelaces?” – Tom Utley asks the question that matters
“I’m not finished with them yet. Strip-searched, thrown in a 3ft cell and forced to queue up with junkies for her asthma inhaler, the 69 year-old rates rebel reveals the full scandal of how her once-respectable street was destroyed. And sends a defiant message to those who jailed her…” – Josephine Rooney discovers that, contrary to what the Mail has said, jail is no holiday camp
“Cycle deaths rise as more commuters bike to work” – 4x4s for everyone!
SATURDAY
“The heatwave is here. But is your sunblock doing its job properly?” – Survey finds that some more expense suncreams offer better protection than some cheaper ones
“1m OAPS sell up to live in the sun” – Check your sunblock, grandma
“They shop and sunbathe all day and drink and bitch all night. So was a German paper right to brand the WAGS ‘hooligans with visas’” – Paying the penalty for binge drinking
“A very disturbing banality. We asked one of Britain’s top writers to assess the latest Big Brother with its mentally ill inmates. His verdict: a spitefully cruel, utterly mindless freak show which raises deeply worrying questions about TV and mordern life” – Of course, he could just switch the telly off
“Chilling truth about ice cream – Seaweed. Palm oil. Eel blood, and lost of thin air. We reveal what they REALLY put in your favourite ice cream” – I prefer a flake
The Pain Of Wayne
“WAYNE: I’LL SPLIT HIM IN TWO.”
The target of Wayne Rooney’s anger is Portugal’s Cristiano Ronaldo, who had the temerity to a) play in a team that beat England; b) score the decisive penalty to beat England; and c) wink at Rooney as the misunderstood striker was being sent from the field.
All Rooney did was rest his tender metatarsal in something soft, specifically the groin of Portugal’s Ricardo Carvalho, and then shove Ronaldo.
Understandably irate, the tin lid has been placed on Rooney’s boiling pot of anger by the undeniable fact that Ronaldo, his team-mate at Manchester United, is better looking than him. Not mincing his words, Rooney calls the player a “pretty boy”.
And, as the Mirror’s front page says (“ROOD MIST”), Rooney was so keen to show his displeasure he tried to get into the Portugal changing room to attack the man.
But he was stopped. Such are the ways of international football that smashing up an opponent after the whistle is frowned upon. Better to wait and “split him in two” back in England, where such things are everyday and part of the fabric of the country.
That’s if Ronaldo is let back in. “CHRIS OFF!” says the Star. “Now give that winker Ronaldo a red card from this country.” That’s right. Don’t let him back into this gilded isle. Send him to Real Madrid or some other hellhole where his brand of winning football matches passes for the norm. That’ll learn him.
And you too can help. Having supported the team by rubbing a picture of David Beckham’s injured foot and touching an orange circle, Sun readers are now invited to fix a picture of Ronaldo to a wall and throw darts at it.
“PUT A DART IN THE TART,” urges the Sun. “Here’s every England fan’s chance to get revenge on the world’s biggest winker.”
And with any luck the board will work like a voodoo doll, causing Ronaldo no little pain. So come on, show your support for Rooney by sticking pins in the enemy.
It’s the only language these foreigners understand.
Unwanted Baggage
WITH the team defeated, it is only right that the Wags should bid farewell to Germany.
Having painted the town red, and themselves orange, the girls have been sent packing. And there are many bags to pack. The Mirror watches the huge trollies full of to-die-for gear being loaded onto a plane.
It even dishes out “THE WAG AWARD”. Coleen McLoughlin scoops the “Best use of a platinum credit card award” for her shopping. And the keenly contested award for “Orangest tan” goes to Michaela Henderson-Thynne.
But her acceptance speech – “I’d like to thank Robert Kilroy Silk for being an inspiration, my mum and dad for buying me a Satsuma for my sixteenth birthday” etc. – is interrupted.
Several England fans have “surged” towards the Wags. “You’re s*** and you’re going home,” screamed supporter, his face as red as his shirt.
And he is not alone. Even the Wags of Portugal’s players are heard by the Sun jeering Victoria Beckham, Colleen and the rest of the England cheerleaders.
One man tells Elen Rives to *f*** off”, although he may be a German practising the brand of English the delightful Rives said to group of his countrymen.
And here’s Joanne Beckham, David’s sister, waving a one-fingered salute to the fans who had paid a fortune to watch the team.
And with that they were gone. And all that remained was a sprinkling of orange fairy dust and a pair of grinning teeth…
Goodbye England’s Dream
SHOW us a tragedy and we’ll show you Elton John.
He was there when Princess Diana died. He was there again when George Michael was caught napping at the wheel of his car. And he was there when Victoria and David Beckham wore matching leather outfits.
And now he’s on hand to see England through the pain of World Cup failure. Standing on a stage in Bournemouth, the man with the hair extensions shared his thoughts on all things football with his fans.
Says Elton: “There has not been an outstanding player at this World Cup…and I do not even want to talk about that f***ing Sven Goran Abba-dabba.”
As ever, Elton has tuned into the mood of the country. “As always the England fans heave been fantastic. They have been let down by the team and let down by people earning £125,000 a week. It is a disgrace.”
Cue a standing ovation, much clapping, cheering and even perhaps a growing chant of “Elton for England”.
Indeed, how long can be it before Elton releases a single and is heard singing: “Goodbye Sven Goran… and it seems to be that you managed the team by holding a finger in the wind…”
Repeat to fade…
A Tale Of Two Parises
PARIS Hilton is still in London. And Paris is looking for love.
As the Mirror’s advert runs: “Heiress, 25, likes cosy dinners and walking on beach, WLTM cute sporty guy for friendship and possible romance.” Only men with own video cameras need apply.
The Mirror catches up with Paris as she sits on a balcony at London’s Sanderson hotel.
“I want what most girls want,” says Paris. “Someone who is kind and considerate, who makes me laugh. A guy who can separate the public me from the private me.”
So there are two Paris Hiltons. There’s the one who poses for the Mirror in a sparkly bikini, and there is the other Paris who makes home videos. Right?
Why stop there. Maybe there are three Paris Hiltons? And at that we hear the Star announce the arrival of Paris Hilton the singing sensation.
“People are surprised I can sing and I think: ‘What’s the big deal?’ It’s a little insulting, but I love to surprise people.”
So here’s Paris eating a burger, grilled prawns and a Coke. And here’s Paris saying how she doesn’t take drugs. And for some reason she says: “I’ve met Kate Moss and she’s really sweet but I feel really sad for Pete (Doherty).”
And here’s Paris saying, “I consider myself a singer more than an actress.”
But that remains to be seen. After all, we‘ve yet to see the video that will accompany her debut single…
Party Of Five
ANY takers? This is, after all, “a unique opportunity for you and five friends to be Elton’s and David’s guests at their home to watch a movie together and join them for an Indian curry.”
That’s the lot Elton John and David Furnish, for it is they, have put up at their charity auction. Any takers?
Sure, for most of us finding five friends in a lifetime would be a tall order, let alone getting them to table for one meal, but in Elton John and David Furnish’s world, it is no big deal.
The couple have so many close and dear, dear friends that when they all get together they have to hire a big tent and call the meeting the white Tie & Tiara Ball.
And arriving for the party at their Windsor mansion is professional raisin eater Liz Hurley. The Sun says sees Liz appear dressed in a white gown and jewels – a 16-carat white gold necklace worth £2.5million and a tiara.
Liz calls this her “official coming out”. But before Liz goes the gay way, the Mail spots some really little princesses arriving.
It’s Princess Beatrice in an “eye-catching dress” (Mail readers may find their eyes caught in Bea’s exposed cleavage) and her sister Princess Eugenie (more bare flesh).
Neither girls wear a tiara, which is a flagrant breach of the dress code. And while Elton and David’s staff fashion the Windsors little crowns from paper napkins and spittle, more guests arrive.
There’s Tara Palmer-Tomkinson and her nose, and a tiara. And Kate Moss is at large once more. And there’s the pixie-voiced Sharon Osbourne and her vibrating husband Ozzy. And there’s Rod Stewart and his fiancee Penny Lancaster. And there’s Robbie Williams, Simon Cowell and James Blunt. And, of course, there’s Lulu, without whom no mention of Elton John is complete.
That’s at least five friends already and the Express has only just spotted the star of the show. Look everyone (but try not to gawp) it’s Kylie Minogue, or “brave Kylie”, as she is now known.
Kylie has spent the better part of the last year recovering from breast cancer and everyone is glad to see her looking well again.
So now all the guests are massed, what are we bid for that curry dinner and a movie? And, yes, Pamela Anderson, that does include a couple of stuffed nan breads…
The Book Of Posh
ONE woman missing from Elton John’s White Tie & Tiara ball was the singer’s close pal Victoria Beckham.
Vicky was otherwise engaged, busy walking in a London street. The Mirror says Vicky was also shopping for a present for Geri Halliwell’s new baby Bluebell Madonna. Overlooking a conical baby bra and some red string, Posh settled on a baby Bible.
And that she accomplished this mission while dressed in what the Sun notes to be “a slinky leather skirt and dark blouse left wide open to expose ther bra and cleavage” is testament to her talents.
The Mail has the same shot, only know we get to see Vicky’s shoes, which, like her bag and skirt, are dark and shiny. And just like her hair, too.
Vicky’s hair is looking very lush. The Mail, which first noted Vicky’s “bald” spot earlier in the week, looks afresh at her head. And the verdict is that the hair on it is full and curly.
The paper also catches up with her hairdresser, one Seleny Georghiou. The crimper informs us that her client’s hair extensions were “oily and separated”. Vicky has them changed every three months.
And, what is more, the hair glued to Vicky’s scalp is real. It comes from all over the world, “but mainly Poland, Russia and India”, says Miss Georghiou.
This is Victoria’s World Cup hair. Although someone should tell her that Poland have been knocked out and neither India nor Russian made it to finals.
But full marks for effort…
Water Fronts
WHILE Posh was having an Indian woman’s old hair glued to her head, the rest of the Wags were in Germany.
Victoria may well be “TOO POSH TO SPLASH!” as the Star’s headline says, but the rest of the girls know that life is not all shopping and hair. Really, it is not.
So the “WATER WAGS” went to Germany’s Europa themes park, a kind of wet Alton Towers.
In the Mirror, readers see the girls sat on a ride called Atlantica SuperSplash, their hands are raised high in the air as they hurtle down a ramp into the water.
Then it is onto a white-water rafting-style ride called Fjord-Rafting. The girls split into two groups and have a water fight.
And this means they not only got their hair wet but their tops soaking, too. The Mirror has a picture of a wet Coleen McLoughlin peering down her own top, a picture that also arouses the Sun’s attention.
And for the record, the top is a T-shirt…
A Poker Face
“OH Harry, give us a kiss!” The flame-haired Prince pauses.
Natalie Pinkham, 28, a TV presenter, is standing at the top of some steps. She and Harry have been at the Kensington home of Harry’s former “mentor”, ex-Welsh Guards officer Mark Dyer.
It’s 5am and Natalie wants a goodnight kiss. “Not here,” says Harry. So Natalie wanders back down the steps and… We may never know what happened in the magical twenty seconds they shared together. Natalie could well take the details to her grave, or to a tabloid.
Pah! Of course Natalie will not kiss and tell. The presenter known to tens of people as the face of the Poker Channel has, as the Mail reports, dated England cricketer Kevin Pietersen at the apogee of his fame as England won cricket’s Ashes series last year. She also dated England rugby player Matt Dawson in the aftermath of England’s World Cup win. And what did she tell us about her romances with them? Nothing.
But Coralie Eichholtz might tell us more. Pictured in the Star dressed in an airy pink bikini, Caralie is Harry’s babe No.1; Natalie is his No.2.
Like Natalie, Coralie has dated sportsmen, namely Australian star Shane Warne and England footballer Rio Ferdinand. And like Natalie she has dallied with the Prince.
Before retiring to Dyer’s basement flat, Harry danced at London’s Boujis nightclub with the former Page 3 stunner. The Express says that she too left the club to go to Dyer’s flat.
Which is all terribly intriguing and makes us wonder what Harry’s No.3 girl, Chelsy Davy, makes of it all. “This really isn’t a good sign,” a pal of Chelsy’s tells the Sun. Especially since Chelsy has only recently jetted into London from her native South Africa to see her lover.
But Chelsy need not worry. Nothing is going on with Harry and Natalie. And, in any case, like his dad, Harry has more than enough energy to manage more than one woman at a time. Chelsy need not fear of missing out…
A Lucky Zucker
WAS it the Mail’s shots of Victoria Beckham’s “bald” patch that caused Her Poshness to fly 550 miles to have her locks seen to?
Whatever the reasons for making the “emergency” trip, the horror is now over.
Although it is hard to spot the difference in the Sun’s “before” and “after” shots.
All we can say for sure is that before making the trip to see hair engineer Angelo Georghiou in London, Posh allowed herself to be photographed from the font.
On her return she gives the Sun’s snapper a good view of the back of her head.
Taking a magnifying glass to the newer picture we can see no trace of exposed scalp. Her stylist has done a good job. Just as with Posh’s good pal Elton John, it is hard to see the join between the old and new hair.
The £1,500 Posh has invested on her new fuller head of hair is money well spent.
But it may not be enough. Sure the new hair looks great, but it can’t stop Posh’s crown from slipping. And there to catch it is Carly Zucker. She’s dating England’s Joe Cole. And she’s the “Wag stunner” the Sun says everyone wants to see.
We are sure Carly’s hair is nowhere near as lovely and new as Posh’s. And as soon as the Star allows us to examine it, we will give our official verdict.
But until then, we are forced to make do with shots of Carly’s flat torso and curved backside.
Carly is out jogging in Germany and the Star’s man with a camera has managed to keep up with the fitness instructor long enough to take some shots. Readers get to see Carly jogging towards the camera, jogging away from the camera and stretching.
The Mirror has similar shots of Carly, and an additional shot of her warming up with a “leg-stretch”.
By now Star readers are just as warmed and ready for action as Carly. And having done the Carly work out, they may like to get the Carly look, which, as the Mirror notes, consists of a white vest, jogging bottoms and trainers.
And maybe some hair…
Kate’s Clean Slate
MUD sticks. And cocaine gets caught in your nasal hairs. And so it is that Kate Moss remains “cocaine Kate” in the Sun.
Of course, Kate is in the clear over those allegations that she took and supplied cocaine. But still the Sun keeps a close eye on the model.
It looks on as Kate, arrives at the opening of a new bar in London’s Dorchester hotel. Having adhered to the First Rule of Kate (the word “cocaine” must be mentioned in every story about her), the paper adheres to the Second Rule of Kate and tells us what she is wearing.
For the record, Kate sports a “revealing” leopard skin dress. And a new friend called Kelly Osbourne.
The Mirror has a shot of Kate in conversation with the mushroom-like Kelly. And another picture of Kate in the back of a car with a can of beer and Dame Shirley Bassey.
And it also hears Kate say a few words about her recent past. “I know I’ve been really stupid and childish,” says she. “I mean, I’m still very childish and always will be. But I am 10,000 times smarter than before.”
Of course, being childish, Kate means to say she’s a million, billion, trillion, gazillion times smarter than she’s ever been in her entire life. But it is rude to interrupt. And we would allow her to continue if it weren’t for Pete Doherty wanting to say a few words.
Pete has written a book, and some of its contents catch the Mirror’s eye. “Anyway, I love you so much it has estranged me from myself even,” writes Pete, whose book will hit the shleves of a bookshop near you very soon – and then slump into a broken heap on the floor . “To say it on paper is a bit off but marry me and I’ll do the crack off if you want.”
Beautiful words. And had Kate seen them, she would surely now be Mrs Kate Doherty. And to go with her new husband she’d have a new dress and a new epithet.
He Shoots..!
PARIS Hilton is in town and the Sun catches up with the professional model/actress/singer/blonde.
Paris is really getting into the swing of London life. But before she can stick a pearl on each of her nipples and execute a Lambeth Walk, she tells us about football.
Paris just loves football. The World Cup is just like so awesome. And she’s even picked her dream team.
But Paris is not yet up with all the rules and selects just three players. At Numbers 3 and 2, respectively, are David Beckham and Sweden’s Freddie Ljundberg. But Paris’s number one is German striker Lukas Podolski.
“I think Lukas is the sexiest man on the pitch,” says Paris. “I would really like to meet him.”
This may be possible. England are short on strikers just now and if Paris can impress coach Sven Goran Eriksson with her ball skills (or just send him a video of her in training) she may yet swap shirts with her man in a professional capacity.
Belly Laughs
FROM the vapid weltschmerz of Victoria Beckham and those Wags, we take a look at David Beckham, and notably those shots of the England skipper yawning in vivid technicolour over a patch of grass in Stuttgart.
Was it something David ate that caused him to hurl on the pitch? Is he the Beckham with an eating disorder and not his wife, as some wrongly suppose? Or was his vomiting an insightful comment on the way England play football?
German tabloid Bild thinks that could be the reason. In “David Brecham” (brechen is the German for vomit), the paper says it was England’s style, or lack of it, that caused Beckham to hurl.
The Sun is aghast. This is cruel kriegspiel. The paper notes how Bild has already labelled Beckham’s sister Joanne a “fat pig” and his children “dwarves”.
And now it has given over an entire page of its ‘Cup’ section to David being sick. This is a “stomach-churning attack”.
Why can’t the Germans fill their tabloids with shots of near naked, orange-skinned women, adverts for Viagra and Big Brother updates like a proper paper?
These Germans have no idea. They are wrong to say it was the sight of his wife’s credit card bill that caused David to chunder.
The Sun deals only in truth. And it puts them right. “Beckham was simply suffering from dehydration after his free kick sent England into the quarter-finals,” it says matter-of-factly.
David is not pregnant, as the German paper also supposes. Neither did he drink too much “thin, bad” English beer?
He is just celebrating a goal. And if the Germans doubt that they can head along to Gelsenkirchen this weekend to see many thousands of noble English yeomen doing just the same all over the strasse…
Mother Me Baby One More Time
SHE’S got the money. She’s got the fame. She’s got the looks. Ok, two out of three ain’t bad. And for most of us it would be more than enough to have a great life.
But Britney Spears wants more. She wants to live with her mum.
So, as the Sun reports, the poptart is moving back in with mum Lynne. She is to return to Kentwood, Louisiana. There, she will prepare to give birth to her second child.
Sources say Britney also wants her mother’s help in caring for young Sean Preston, her non-bouncing baby boy who fell from his high chair not too long ago.
Sources say Britney has become “nervous” after almost spilling her drink, and her son, over a New York pavement.
So it is back home to live with mummy. And husband Kevin Federline can come to. But not the troublesome high chair, obviously…
Age Before Beauty
KATE Moss has been crying, or “endlessly weeping”, as the Star puts it.
As a pal of the model tells the paper: “She’s out partying and drinking all the time and she thinks everyone’s watching, just waiting for her to mess up.” This source says Kate “hates her life”.
So Kate is going back into rehab. Having kicked the cocaine, she needs rehab to be herself. “She wants to collect her thoughts in rehab away from the public’s scrutiny,” says a source. “What she needs right now is an escape from being Kate Moss.”
But might there be another reason for Kate’s “black days”? Might she be depressed that she can no longer pull?
Having “been linked” with Pete Doherty, Big Brother presenter Russell Brand, model Jamie burke and Dirty Pretty Things Rocker Anthony Rossomando, Kate has been turned down.
Kate is said to have approached Artic Monkeys frontman Alex Turner at a gig and asked for his phone number. And rather than jotting it down and handing it to the supermodel on trembling hands, Alex talked it over with his mum. And she told him to leave well alone.
Might it be that Kate’s allure is on the wane? And, if so, can a spell in rehab restore it? And, remember, this all has nothing to do with that “constant partying and drinking”…
Getting Up Her Nose
JOIN us now for a look at Tara Palmer-Tomkinson’s nose.
Being a “telly toff”, Tara has, naturally, got her nose pushed high into the air, enabling her to look down at us and we to look up at her.
And from our viewpoint things are not looking good. The Star says Tara’s nose has developed a “large and worrying dent on the bridge”. It says that the eyes of the showbiz world are on her conk.
As are ours. The shot of Tara’s face in September 2004 shows a neat snub nose with a straight bridge. In June 2006, the nose has altered. The straight lines are disturbed by a bump, a mogul in Tara’s gentle ski jump.
This is the nose of a boxer – a fighter not the dog. But the Star wonders if Tara’s nose has been on the end of something less obvious than a fist.
The paper remembers Tara’s past cocaine addiction (she has been clean for more than six years) and hears from “plastic surgeon to the stars” Alex Karidis. “It appears her nose is collapsing,” says he. “The only way you can get this kind of effect is by using cocaine quite heavily – or from boxing.”
And Tara has only ever been a contender for the most off-her-face star on TV…
A Thinspiration
“SHE is horribly thin – you can see all her ribs – and she is not normal.”
Dr Dee Dawson of London’s Rhodes Farm clinic is right. She is not normal. She is Victoria Beckham and her special talent is to be painfully thin.
But even that is not so out of the ordinary as the Mail says Posh is the “thinspiration” for anorexics.
The paper has looked at what it calls “pro-anorexic” websites and the postings thereon.
“I envy her thin legs and chest. She has beautiful bones sticking out of her chest,” says one fan.
“Posh is major hottie! I love her arms!” enthuses another Posh wannabe. A third fan wonders if there is a “Victoria Beckham ‘diet’ out there”.
We have no knowledge of any Posh eating plan. All we know is that she eats “like a pig”. She told us that herself – although given her rake thin appearance the comment may be based on her eating habits rather than anything else…
The Dope
YOUR writer is minded of an incident he witnessed at Amsterdam Airport.
A young stoner wandered up to the armed border guard and asked where the coffee shop was. He wanted to buy some cannabis.
The guard resisted any urge to shoot him, preferring instead to laugh.
But Stephen West was not so fortunate. Sure, he was not shot – British police have yet to be routinely armed – but he was arrested. And he was carrying drugs.
Stephen was passing through a court security check in Wigan, Lancashire. He was to appear before the Beak to answer an allegation that he had breached bail conditions.
But on passing though the entry barrier he was struck by a thought. Who would look after his drugs while he was in the dock?
So he removed it from his pocket and handed it to security. They asked him to sign a receipt to say that it was his. Then they got a copper to nick him.
And very soon Stephen was in the dock, answering a charge of possessing the Class C drug.
Which, it is believed, was not returned to him. Which is an outrage. And he may sue…
An Officer & A Gentle Woman
“WE started kissing but he was quite a bit shorter than I am so I dragged him over to a beer crate and he popped himself on top.”
Natalie Loddo goes on: “I remember he put a cap on me – it was like a Richard Gere moment.”
Indeed. Only in this version James Blunt is cast in the Debra Winger part and Natalie is Gere.
Natalie is James Blunt’s “Escort girl”, at least that’s what is says on the Sun’s cover. But this is no sleazy tale of how the signer once paid for adult company but the tale of how he got it for free in the backseat of a Ford Escort.
As misleading headlines go, this one is right up there with “Queenie Does Coke” – the story of Queenie the Yorkshire terrier who refuses to drink anything but Panda Cola.
Though not what we expected to read, there is still news to be found within the story.
At the time of this An Office And A Gentleman re-enactment, Natalie, then married, was working as a military clerk. She scooped the young captain of the Household Cavalry into her arms and took him to her car.
Time has moved on since then, but last October the pair met when James was gigging in Natalie’s native Cardiff. “It was a real quickie,” says Natalie, now divorced. “There were people knocking on the [changing room] door because we had to leave the building.”
And she saw James again at a recent music festival in London. But his new girlfriend was there and nothing happened.
But, who knows, they may meet once more and he may get carried away again – on her shoulders…
A Clean Sweep
“WELL, I’ve always been a scrubber,” says Boy George as he leaves a Manhattan court.
Last year, the singer was arrested for making a false report to police. He said a burglar had been in his New York apartment. Police arrived. No burglar was found but they did discover 13 small bags of cocaine.
George was pinched and yesterday he wound up in court before the Beak, one Anthony Ferrara.
The Mirror hears the judge order George to sweep the city’s streets for five days. Should he fail to execute this task by August, he will go to jail.
“It’s up to you whether this will be an exercise in humiliation or and exercise in humility,” said Ferrara. “It’s your choice.”
George had hoped to do his community service at an Aids charity, where he would give fashion tips. But instead he received the order of the broom.
But the exact nature of what he will be cleaning is unclear. The Mirror says George is to clean the streets, but George’s lawyer, Louis Freemman, tells the Star: “We don’t know what the nature of the community service is yet. It’s probably raking leaves in Central Park or something like that.”
Is it? The fear is that the punishment will be something less bucolic and more karmic…
Silly Billie
“BILLIE MY BOOZE & COCAINE BINGE HELL.” Why, it’s actress Billie Piper telling the world about her experiences with drink and drugs.
Yes, we know. It’s as if celebrities are playing a game of Drugs Idol. They line up and tell us about how awful their experiences with drugs have been and the one we pity/envy most wins our sympathy and becomes the face of Celebrity Rehab Live.
Even if the celebs enjoy taking drugs they must not let on. They must use the word “hell” and say drugs were awful and taking them was bad.
So here’s Billie telling us that when she was 16 she “didn’t want to be here”. Billie, now 23, says: “I had my head in the clouds, was mad, neurotic and self-destructive, a very different character.”
In short, Billie was a teenager. Billie was also a child star, appearing in TV adverts and signing a record deal at 15.
So Billie turned to alcohol and drugs. “I still went to work – even though I had a face like a slapped a**se,” says she.
And then along came Chris Evans, the ginger DJ. He liked Billie’s slapped a**e and took her away from a failing pop career and made her his wife. Billie was 18. Chris was 34.
But – shock of shocks – the marriage didn’t work out. And Billie did not turn to drugs once more. Well, she was older and wiser now, and her acting career was on the up…
No Defence
“I AM absolutely delighted England beat Ecuador and hope they stay in the competition as long as possible.”
So says Tortora Carmine, owner of Garibaldi’s bar and spit roast. He is so happy with England he’s ordered 700 litres of strong beer and put a few hundred bottles of champagne on ice. Herr Carmine says it “should last a few days”.
The booze is not for him but for the Wags who have put his bar on the map. “People say my bar is now one of the most famous in the world,” says he.
And it’s all thanks to those Wags and the Mads (footballers’ mums and dads) who have brought a little corner of an Essex theme pub to Baden Baden.
But Tortora should watch out. He might not mind the girls dancing on the tables – “their stilettos haven’t left any scratches” – but it can be tricky to remove blood from the carpets and extract bits of tooth from the walls.
You see, a fight is brewing. “WAGS AT WAR,” announces the Mirror. “It’s like a 24-hour hen party (without L-plates)..Posh and Nancy think it’s all a bit out of hand.”
The Mirror says the goings on between the orange-skinned band of charmless lovelies is “almost” as gripping as the team’s performances on the pitch. Indeed, if we see a shot of Victoria Beckham emulating her husband by unleashing a technicolour yawn over Germany soil, it would be more so.
But we won’t. And neither will we see Victoria cavorting about the place. As a source says: “Victoria’s been in this game for years. She’s got decorum whereas some of the others couldn’t even spell the word.”
Not that they have to. Such is their wealth they can pay people to spell for them. But, never mind, the source goes on to say that Vicky is in Germany to support her David and not “compete against the other girls to get their picture taken in skimpy outfits”.
Victoria is bigger than that, metaphorically speaking. And to prove it, the Mirror produces a shot of her Poshness cheering on the lads in a pair of child-size denim shorts and a blue waistcoat over bare orangey flesh.
And there’s another picture, this one’s of Joe Cole’s lover Carly Zuker. She’s the one Victoria doesn’t approve of, allegedly. Carly is aged just 24 and looks “stunning” dressed in jeans and a plain blue T-shirt.
If a fight is brewing, Posh should get some bigger clothes on lest her exposed skin become scratched and her shorts constrict the flow of blood to her fists…
