Poor Magonna! Her backward dive at The Brits is precisely why I NEVER wear a sparkly hooded cape when I am dancing on the stairs. Er, make that hoovering the stairs. One good thing about her tumble is that she gave the world an opportunity to enjoy her ladygarden from a previously unseen angle. And who knew there was one of those?
Talking about what not to wear, waddabout the Oscars? Where did the sparkle go this year? I watch (slavishly) because I want to covet the outfits but none of them did it for me .
Biggest laugh of the night was the walking rose bush Gwyneth Paltrow. Her dress made her look like a two headed monster and could have come from the Dr Who props department. I thought her face looked somehow odd, too, but maybe she was just coming down from the effects of steaming her vulva. Read all about that must-do part of her booty regime on her website ‘Goop’ (short for loopy-loo).
I can picture Gywnie perched on a porcelain teacup enjoying a delicate mist of eucalyptus and mint wafting around her pale and wrinkle free vayjayjay. If I was to give steaming my funparts a try I’d need a wheelie bin, Jeyes Fluid and a pressure washer.
I do love Eddie Redmayne and I’m super-duper delighted he won the Oscar but now I want him to get, and stay, butch. The pedigree labrador that’s been to RADA schtick is about to become less charming in 10, 9, 8 seconds and counting…….
