Saturday, 29 January 2011

Vanessa Feltz Needs Her Sugar Fix Or The Free World and All Its Interns Are Gona Get It. No Joke.

Read how Vanessa starts taking out hits on interns here:

Vanessa Feltz bullies work experience girl over intellect

Breaking News: Work experience girl with degree in media doesn't know who W. B. Yeats is, civilisation is officially crumbling. I'm not sure if Vanessa Feltz is a G or a psycho. Does not knowing who a very dead poet is warrant a proverbial slap from your supposed better and elder? As an English Lit student I can kind of relate to the inner snobbery about what you like to think of as soul feeding knowledge. On the other hand I am not arrogant enough to think I'm an expert on what topics matter more than others and I never expect people to know who Yeats is unless they've somehow intimated they're qualified to or have interests that would imply that they would. I mean really why should they?! Yea if you want to spend a few hours musing over whether he was a god of Modernism or an old skool mystic in poems such as "The Second Coming" fair enough, clapity clap for throwing your hat into the academic ring but I kind of respect those of us who don't spend hours musing over these abstract dilemmas. Some of these little people as Vanessa would probably call them really have better things to do or are doing things I would love to learn more about: you know normal shit like trying to keep a roof over your head or exceptional shit like trying to save a country from economic ruin or becoming a gynaecologist...I don't know!  I'm certain there is plenty of very important stuff that those outside the literary loop know about that I don't and I would hope they wouldn't judge my level of intelligence or worthiness in this world on the basis that I know next to nothing about anything that really matters in life: like how to convert feet into meters or how to read anything financial without wanting to claw my eyes out of my head after 15 minutes.

Are standards of general knowledge slipping to an alarming low? Do people like Ms Feltz need to check people for not knowing what people 30 years ago would have been more likely to have known irrespective of their class or education bracket? Is Vanessa just doing what a lot of other people want to do by acting as the culture police or is she just sour cos that dude from Phats & Smalls liked her better pre-lipo and she has to keep up 5 media roles to make up for the alimony her cheating ex husband was awarded many a year ago. Bitter woman without a PHD but with a lot of a superiority complex or crusader riding against the chav-tastic tide in the name of the English language?! All I know is that every time I see her name I am reminded of the tongue slobbery that is this kiss between her and this slightly dishonest looking fella below and I wonder if crimes anymore heinous can be committed against the general publics' retinas. Maybe looking disgusting is far worse than sounding disgusting for not knowing a W. B. Yeats poem. For a beacon of high culture Vanessa is definitely dipping her toe over the border into low class behaviour. I personally don't think snogging the face off your guy for the cameras, your children and your ex to see is anymore low class than being ignorant of the fathers of the Western canon; I am after all an equal opportunist when it comes to culture (read my by line, you know I love the trash and the highfalutin goodies, that's how I roll) Maybe Vanessa needs to loosen up the gastric band and eat some cake? That always makes me more willing to accept the seemingly unacceptable, for instance a slice of tiramisu cake from the local newsagents made me think that it might be acceptable to watch that new Reese Witherspoon and Paul Rudd movie even though I knew it was embarrassing to even know of its existence in my own head. Cake also allowed me to reconsider whether sex with someone like David Hasslehoff in the imaginary realm would be a yes in spite of a lack of intellectual attraction.  It all might taste good, the movie, the guy circa 1979, the cake and yea none of it is very clever but isn't that what makes life varied Vanessa?! I have no scientific study to throw at you about serotonin and cake but happiness makes us more accepting no? and perhaps Vanessa needs some of that cake high to stop her from mauling young women who pay for the privilege of being in her presence. The kissing is clearly not making her happy enough, that Phats & Small guy needs some tongue control methinks....and a stash of sugar for his lady.

Monday, 24 January 2011

Ladies, We Should All Eat Breakfast at Tiffany's Sometimes.

It is the contrasts in the way Audrey Hepburn carries herself that are poetic. She is as upright and neat as the column shape of her dress but the dress is nothing special without the slightly gaudy faux princess shimmer of costume jewellery. It transforms her from Park Avenue princess to lost princess; entirely out of place wandering the streets the morning after whatever party or date happened the night before. The body beneath the column is architectural perfection and yet she is wolfing down a danish.  Without speaking the film has already enchanted us into creating a million backgrounds for this errant and slightly bizarre contradiction of a woman, it has already given us insight into its heroine and confirmed she is iconic. It's a bit like the opening of "BUtterfield 8" where Liz Taylor silently stalks around the apartment of last night's conquest, admiring herself in its mirrors and helping herself to its perfumes and furs as if she were in a department store. Maybe all this standing in front of shop windows and mirrors is part of the female ritual that is all the more captivating on film without the baggage of words.

I took myself out on a little date last night to see "Breakfast at Tiffany's" at BFI Southbank and came away thinking every woman is a princess in waiting no matter how she makes her money or how many material things she is willing to attach herself to, we all seek a little solace at the window of aspirational beauty.  For Holly Golightly escapism is the protective expanse and clean freedom granted by wealth. It is also the assurance of quality and permanence that is Tiffany's. It is ridiculous and yet understandable because Tiffany's signifies a timeless brand with timeless manners that gives her an immemorial "something" to believe in, a way of living where people are courteous and kind and nothing filthy gets lodged under your fingernails, nothing darts too close to the heart to make any lasting dents.  Tiffany's is just enough beauty, just enough emotion to not bowl you over, to not disappoint, to not break your heart (unlike the handsome and emotionally solid George Peppard)  This uncomplicated charm is what a woman like Holly thinks she needs to survive, just enough to mentally digest for her breakfast to fight the 'mean reds' of everyday life; of unutterable grievances and lost dreams. 
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