Who’s up and who’s down this week’s Celebrity Watch gossip-o-meter, including Victoria Beckham and Ashley Cole
Victoria Beckham photographed for US Glamour magazine: www.glamour.com
DOWN: Victoria Beckham
Oh, Victoria Beckham. Was there ever a woman more misunderstood and maligned? Well, yes. The 2nd-century Christian martyr St Agatha was sold, along with her nine daughters, into a brothel, rolled around on hot coals, then had her breasts cut off. Victoria, on the other hand, is occasionally accused of being “too thin”. And yet. And yet. CW can’t help but feel, in the words of its six-year-old daughter, “sorry of” Posh. Why? Because she just doesn’t seem to ... get stuff. Normal stuff.
This week, for instance, in a photoshoot for the US edition of Glamour, we see Posh living her Posh old life. Here she is with an adorable puppy. But wait! What is Posh doing with it? Putting it on her face, then draping it around her neck as if it were a neck-warmer from Boots. Posh! The cervical and thoracic vertebrae are no place for a young animal!
Posh then ventures into the kitchen, where she has clearly been told to squirt cream into her mouth lasciviously, yet appears to be squirting it into her ear instead. In the final shots we see Posh supposedly returning from a grocery shop — naked apart from a pink mac and lavender-coloured stilettos, and with a plastic bag on her head. As you do.
You can also see how Posh clearly has a bag of frozen chips on top of her shopping, thus crushing any more fragile purchase below and leaving the chips vulnerable to defrosting in the bright LA sunshine. Oh, Posh. POSH! Just because you haven’t eaten a chip since 1996 doesn’t mean other people don’t want to. Consider your children, Malvolio, José and New Jersey. They’d bloody love a chip buttie.
Oh, CW despairs, it really does. Posh is as clueless on this earth as Mork was in Mork & Mindy. She probably tries to drink lemonade by sticking her finger in it. Na-nu na-nu, Posh. Na-nu na-nu.
Victoria Beckham was photographed for US Glamour magazine
DOWN: Ashley Cole
Oh, Ashley Cole. After getting busted for spraying his DNA all over a hairdresser in 2008, Cole is now bang to rights on “sex texting” a secretary whom he then, allegedly, invited to his hotel room for a night of sex.
Of course, CW is right in there with the pertinent details: to wit, that Cole and friend “watched two dud sci-fi films before getting down to sex”.
Wow. WOW. Well, obviously CW cannot rest until it knows WHICH sci-fi movies Cole sat through, presumably with a raging erection. Battleship Earth? Alien vs. Predator? Would Howard the Duck count as sci-fi? CW would put all three Star Wars prequels in this category — but would Cole’s one-night stand? Oh, it’s a cultural minefield.
UP: Lady Gaga
Lady Gaga won three awards at the Brits on Tuesday but, more importantly, looked absolutely barkingly brilliant throughout. Gaga not only had hair so big that it appeared to have its own wi-fi connection but, in a confection of white lace, seemed to have come not just as Miss Havisham but as Miss Havisham’s entire house.
Every other pop star should just take the rest of the year off. Being a pop star who isn’t Lady Gaga in 2010 is as pointless as being a European ruler who isn’t Alexander the Great in 325BC.
UP: R-Patz
Obviously it’s still only February and so a little early to call it definitively, yet CW doubts that there will be a more incredible headline this year than “Robert Pattinson: ‘I Am Allergic To Vagina’.”
Pattinson, for those who have not yet become aware of his works, is the latest young actor to make a name for himself by playing a sexy vampire. Sometimes CW wishes that teenage girls would just grow up and fancy someone proper — perhaps Serge Gainsbourg, or Daddy Pig from Peppa Pig, like CW.
Anyway, there’s not much more to be said. As it turns out, Pattinson was being sarcastic and the whole thing doesn’t amount to a hill of beans, really. But there is that headline. “Robert Pattinson: ‘I Am Allergic To Vagina’.” It has happened.
UP: Marilyn Monroe
Big developments in the world this week. A forward-looking company in Canada has designed, and subsequently released, a style of pants “inspired” by the iconic white grundies worn by Marilyn Monroe in The Seven Year Itch.
These, however, are no normal pants inspired by a sex goddess. No. Protec-Style’s new $21 (£13.50) range “boast a special padding which provides nearly 100 per cent absorption”.
Yeah. That’s right. They’ve invented the Marilyn Monroe incontinence pant. With its endlessly Pollyanna-ish outlook on life, CW can see this only as a thrillingly positive move. It genuinely hopes that this will be the cue for other, similarly borderline medical-yet-glamorous clothing innovations: a white Marlon Brando T-shirt but with secret built-in support for man boobs, maybe. Or Mrs Robinson stockings with a Bazuka-impregnated toe area, to work on mosaic wart clusters 24/7.
UP: Jedward
CW isn’t often wrong — unless it’s a maths thing, in which case its score drops alarmingly. It presumes it does, anyway. It’s not like it can add up the total or anything.
So on the rare occasions that CW does muff its call, it behoves it to admit so graciously. So. Yes. CW got it wrong about Jedward, the atonal, disrhythmic X Factor twins from Northern Ireland who look like the offspring of a spring onion and Beaker from the Muppets. CW looked at its watch and called time on their career in December. Yet here Jedward still are, going strong and doing gigs where they can request riders and stuff. And what have Jedward asked for on their rider? “10 kilos of fizzy worms and cola bottles from woolworths.co.uk”.
CW has one word. Well, four words, but when you abbreviate them down it works as one word. It thinks. It’s not sure, to be honest. Anyway: ADHD.
DOWN: Jesus Luz
Jesus, the on-off 27-year-old literal “boy”friend of Madonna, has found something to occupy his time, other than “modelling”, “DJ-ing” and “standing next to Madonna, looking like Madonna just barked ‘Stand there! And if anyone asks you if I told you to stand there, say no!’”
He’s got a tattoo! Yeah! Guess what the tattoo is of? His own name! Yes! On the back of his neck! Exactly where it says “MATTEL” on a Sindy!
CW worries that Madonna has started having “senior moments” and has begun labelling her boyfriends in case she starts referring to them all as “Sean Penn” — who was, let’s face it, the best one.
DOWN: The Swedish women’s ski team
CW wishes to use this space to share its deepest feminine outrage with those plucky lady Swedes, who have been lumbered with the most horrific outfits that CW has ever seen.
The thighs feature some manner of unkind strobing op-art, on the diagonal, while the “lap area” is highlighted with a disturbingly deep V-shaped splash of black — giving the combined impression of a black-hole crotch and infinite thighs. No wonder they want to get down that hill really fast. They can put their proper clothes back on at the bottom.
DOWN: Brad Pitt
Today, CW would like to present a masterclass in the difference between “the Bible” and “Hollywood”. In the Bible, the talisman of hope and peace is a single olive twig, borne by a dove. This is enough to make a whole Ark, full of every animal on Earth, happy. Meanwhile, this week Brad Pitt sought to counteract rumours of his and Angelina Jolie’s impending separation by buying her a 200-year-old olive tree, cost: $18,000. So. Just to recap. Bible: twig. Hollywood: $18,000 tree.
UP: Donatella Versace
CW has a lot of respect for the bright-orange fashion designer Donatella Versace. To be honest, CW has a great deal of time for any brassy old broad caked in slap who patently gives neither fig nor toss what anyone thinks about her. This is both by way of giving them their feminist dues, and clearing the way for CW to be like that by the time she hits 47.
Anyhoo, CW’s respect ratcheted up another six points this week, when Donatella barked — probably from a Lilo in the Adriatic, as the world’s press waited on her words — “I do not believe in totally natural for women. For me, natural has something to do with vegetables.”
Yeah, you go, Donatella! CW is prepared to bet that she doesn’t even know what vegetables are. She just read it, phonetically, off a card.
Oh, Victoria Beckham. Was there ever a woman more misunderstood and maligned? Well, yes. The 2nd-century Christian martyr St Agatha was sold, along with her nine daughters, into a brothel, rolled around on hot coals, then had her breasts cut off. Victoria, on the other hand, is occasionally accused of being “too thin”. And yet. And yet. CW can’t help but feel, in the words of its six-year-old daughter, “sorry of” Posh. Why? Because she just doesn’t seem to ... get stuff. Normal stuff.
This week, for instance, in a photoshoot for the US edition of Glamour, we see Posh living her Posh old life. Here she is with an adorable puppy. But wait! What is Posh doing with it? Putting it on her face, then draping it around her neck as if it were a neck-warmer from Boots. Posh! The cervical and thoracic vertebrae are no place for a young animal!
Posh then ventures into the kitchen, where she has clearly been told to squirt cream into her mouth lasciviously, yet appears to be squirting it into her ear instead. In the final shots we see Posh supposedly returning from a grocery shop — naked apart from a pink mac and lavender-coloured stilettos, and with a plastic bag on her head. As you do.
You can also see how Posh clearly has a bag of frozen chips on top of her shopping, thus crushing any more fragile purchase below and leaving the chips vulnerable to defrosting in the bright LA sunshine. Oh, Posh. POSH! Just because you haven’t eaten a chip since 1996 doesn’t mean other people don’t want to. Consider your children, Malvolio, José and New Jersey. They’d bloody love a chip buttie.
Oh, CW despairs, it really does. Posh is as clueless on this earth as Mork was in Mork & Mindy. She probably tries to drink lemonade by sticking her finger in it. Na-nu na-nu, Posh. Na-nu na-nu.
Victoria Beckham was photographed for US Glamour magazine
DOWN: Ashley Cole
Oh, Ashley Cole. After getting busted for spraying his DNA all over a hairdresser in 2008, Cole is now bang to rights on “sex texting” a secretary whom he then, allegedly, invited to his hotel room for a night of sex.
Of course, CW is right in there with the pertinent details: to wit, that Cole and friend “watched two dud sci-fi films before getting down to sex”.
Wow. WOW. Well, obviously CW cannot rest until it knows WHICH sci-fi movies Cole sat through, presumably with a raging erection. Battleship Earth? Alien vs. Predator? Would Howard the Duck count as sci-fi? CW would put all three Star Wars prequels in this category — but would Cole’s one-night stand? Oh, it’s a cultural minefield.
UP: Lady Gaga
Lady Gaga won three awards at the Brits on Tuesday but, more importantly, looked absolutely barkingly brilliant throughout. Gaga not only had hair so big that it appeared to have its own wi-fi connection but, in a confection of white lace, seemed to have come not just as Miss Havisham but as Miss Havisham’s entire house.
Every other pop star should just take the rest of the year off. Being a pop star who isn’t Lady Gaga in 2010 is as pointless as being a European ruler who isn’t Alexander the Great in 325BC.
UP: R-Patz
Obviously it’s still only February and so a little early to call it definitively, yet CW doubts that there will be a more incredible headline this year than “Robert Pattinson: ‘I Am Allergic To Vagina’.”
Pattinson, for those who have not yet become aware of his works, is the latest young actor to make a name for himself by playing a sexy vampire. Sometimes CW wishes that teenage girls would just grow up and fancy someone proper — perhaps Serge Gainsbourg, or Daddy Pig from Peppa Pig, like CW.
Anyway, there’s not much more to be said. As it turns out, Pattinson was being sarcastic and the whole thing doesn’t amount to a hill of beans, really. But there is that headline. “Robert Pattinson: ‘I Am Allergic To Vagina’.” It has happened.
UP: Marilyn Monroe
Big developments in the world this week. A forward-looking company in Canada has designed, and subsequently released, a style of pants “inspired” by the iconic white grundies worn by Marilyn Monroe in The Seven Year Itch.
These, however, are no normal pants inspired by a sex goddess. No. Protec-Style’s new $21 (£13.50) range “boast a special padding which provides nearly 100 per cent absorption”.
Yeah. That’s right. They’ve invented the Marilyn Monroe incontinence pant. With its endlessly Pollyanna-ish outlook on life, CW can see this only as a thrillingly positive move. It genuinely hopes that this will be the cue for other, similarly borderline medical-yet-glamorous clothing innovations: a white Marlon Brando T-shirt but with secret built-in support for man boobs, maybe. Or Mrs Robinson stockings with a Bazuka-impregnated toe area, to work on mosaic wart clusters 24/7.
UP: Jedward
CW isn’t often wrong — unless it’s a maths thing, in which case its score drops alarmingly. It presumes it does, anyway. It’s not like it can add up the total or anything.
So on the rare occasions that CW does muff its call, it behoves it to admit so graciously. So. Yes. CW got it wrong about Jedward, the atonal, disrhythmic X Factor twins from Northern Ireland who look like the offspring of a spring onion and Beaker from the Muppets. CW looked at its watch and called time on their career in December. Yet here Jedward still are, going strong and doing gigs where they can request riders and stuff. And what have Jedward asked for on their rider? “10 kilos of fizzy worms and cola bottles from woolworths.co.uk”.
CW has one word. Well, four words, but when you abbreviate them down it works as one word. It thinks. It’s not sure, to be honest. Anyway: ADHD.
DOWN: Jesus Luz
Jesus, the on-off 27-year-old literal “boy”friend of Madonna, has found something to occupy his time, other than “modelling”, “DJ-ing” and “standing next to Madonna, looking like Madonna just barked ‘Stand there! And if anyone asks you if I told you to stand there, say no!’”
He’s got a tattoo! Yeah! Guess what the tattoo is of? His own name! Yes! On the back of his neck! Exactly where it says “MATTEL” on a Sindy!
CW worries that Madonna has started having “senior moments” and has begun labelling her boyfriends in case she starts referring to them all as “Sean Penn” — who was, let’s face it, the best one.
DOWN: The Swedish women’s ski team
CW wishes to use this space to share its deepest feminine outrage with those plucky lady Swedes, who have been lumbered with the most horrific outfits that CW has ever seen.
The thighs feature some manner of unkind strobing op-art, on the diagonal, while the “lap area” is highlighted with a disturbingly deep V-shaped splash of black — giving the combined impression of a black-hole crotch and infinite thighs. No wonder they want to get down that hill really fast. They can put their proper clothes back on at the bottom.
DOWN: Brad Pitt
Today, CW would like to present a masterclass in the difference between “the Bible” and “Hollywood”. In the Bible, the talisman of hope and peace is a single olive twig, borne by a dove. This is enough to make a whole Ark, full of every animal on Earth, happy. Meanwhile, this week Brad Pitt sought to counteract rumours of his and Angelina Jolie’s impending separation by buying her a 200-year-old olive tree, cost: $18,000. So. Just to recap. Bible: twig. Hollywood: $18,000 tree.
UP: Donatella Versace
CW has a lot of respect for the bright-orange fashion designer Donatella Versace. To be honest, CW has a great deal of time for any brassy old broad caked in slap who patently gives neither fig nor toss what anyone thinks about her. This is both by way of giving them their feminist dues, and clearing the way for CW to be like that by the time she hits 47.
Anyhoo, CW’s respect ratcheted up another six points this week, when Donatella barked — probably from a Lilo in the Adriatic, as the world’s press waited on her words — “I do not believe in totally natural for women. For me, natural has something to do with vegetables.”
Yeah, you go, Donatella! CW is prepared to bet that she doesn’t even know what vegetables are. She just read it, phonetically, off a card.
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