The Edge: Kate Moss Has "A Little P" on Her Bottom, Which Leaves Her Free to Go out with Paul or Phil, Even Christopher. Now That's What I Call Commitment
Platell, Amanda, New Statesman (1996)
My first reaction on seeing the Rebekah Wade domestic saga unfold mercilessly on television was: there but for the grace of God go many of us. Shameful memories of the night I attacked my partner with a banana came flooding back. But what surprised me more was the excitement shown by her past and present colleagues at the thought of a fresh kill--by which I mean the much-anticipated death of her career, not her husband Ross Kemp's macho EastEnders alter ego.
And I couldn't help wondering if there was an extra degree of glee because Wade is a woman, and one of the most successful journalists of her generation, editing the News of the World at the remarkable age of 32, then the Sun at 35. She was described as a fiery redhead when actually she is cool and clever. And the broadcasters seem to delight in repeatedly showing an old clip of her arriving at Downing Street desperately adjusting an ill-fitting skin-tight dress. I can't remember such unflattering footage being shown of Piers Morgan when he was frogmarched out of the Mirror.
Despite the career doom merchants and however unfortunate the incident, Wade is a survivor and I can't help thinking she deserves to survive this.
For all the good work Charles and Camilla may have done parading around America, it was undone at a stroke by Sir Christopher Meyer's new book, The Ultimate Insider. Meyer reveals that, despite setting up "UK in New York" to promote British trade, Charles failed to attend a memorial service held by the organisers just a month after the 11 September bombings. Charles chose instead to spend the weekend killing birds at Balmoral. And so the Ultimate Insider exposes Charles, the Ultimate Outsider, for what he is--a man who can be relied upon to put self before state.
Whatever the sales of her new Confessions on a Dance Floor album, Madonna must now have achieved the status of No 1 Greatest Modern Hypocrite. One day she's flashing her 47-year-old crotch in a pair of fishnet stockings, the next she's back in her tweeds and pearls mewing about the marvels of motherhood and marriage. …