I thought she couldn't get into fashion shows because of the bad write ups she gave certain designers? Her behaviour towards security people is just her usual rude and pushy self.
But at Vivienne Westwood I was shouted at and pushed about by the security men. ‘This is a fashion show, not the Balkans,’ I spat at them, trying to remain upright.
So, it’s not overwork that makes fashion types impossibly rude.
Of course, Liz, you are always the epitome of politeness and grace. :rolleyes:
‘You’re too early,’ said the beautiful young woman with the walkie-talkie. ‘But Simon Le Bon and Suzy Menkes have gone in,’ I said. ‘Yes, but your space isn’t ready. Come back at nine.’
Alarm bells went off. I’m going to be herded into an unheated pen, I just know it, I thought. My fears were well founded. I was eventually exported upstairs, to a balcony area, where the press were able to gaze down at the real guests as they were eating. For two hours.
And while it was fun to study Rihanna’s dark roots and watch Anna Wintour move her saffron risotto around her plate (a Stella-clad model — Amber Valletta, Yasmin Le Bon, Shalom Harlow and Kate Moss — was installed at each table: I can’t imagine anything that would put me off my food more), I began to get more and more angry.
My job is to report on this collection, which would have just about been possible had I packed a telescope. This was an expensive affair: hire of the building alone was £15,000, plus the cost of the orchestra, catering, champagne, flowers, security and, of course, models.
Yet again she makes it about her again and as usual can't resist a bitchy poke at the rich and famous. She talks about being 'put off [her] food' - for an anorexic it wouldn't matter.
She witters on about it being 'an expensive affair' - for a woman who blows 700 quid on Prada boots she'll never wear whilst waiting for a plane, she'd hardly have wanted it to be held in a church hall with food from Burger King.
This little snippet at the end of her 'article': "And,lastly, let's be polite: why,every year at Topshop Unique, does Philip Green say to me, without fail: "Who let you in?".We are all in this recession together" ,makes no sense whatsoever. .Ideas anyone?
This little snippet at the end of her 'article': "And,lastly, let's be polite: why,every year at Topshop Unique, does Philip Green say to me, without fail: "Who let you in?".We are all in this recession together" ,makes no sense whatsoever. .Ideas anyone?
Nope. But admonition to be "polite", from a person who drones on about snarling, snapping and shouting at just about anyone who enters her air space, made me smile.
is Rachel Cusk the new Liz Jones? I think we should be told! :eek:
Oh dear god, yes. I had the dubious pleasure of reading this the other day.
Both writers are humour-free zones, and in RC's case the reader can lose the will to live before managing to glean any form of entertainment/information of value.
I do feel sorry for her RC's soon to be ex-husband. Having agreed to give up his career to be the full time stay at home parent to their children, RC now does not wish to pay him any (partner-related) maintenance.
is Rachel Cusk the new Liz Jones? I think we should be told! :eek:
I just hate this lay-it-all-bare-to-the-world form of confessional writing. Whether it's a book, a blog or a diary, I don't think anyone's half as interested in the minutae of their lives that these journos think we are.
Liz's diary would certainly benefit from no descriptions at all of her Brazilian waxings, dubious phone sex and Hanro Swiss undies.
Oh dear god, yes. I had the dubious pleasure of reading this the other day.
Both writers are humour-free zones, and in RC's case the reader can lose the will to live before managing to glean any form of entertainment/information of value.
I do feel sorry for her RC's soon to be ex-husband. Having agreed to give up his career to be the full time stay at home parent to their children, RC now does not wish to pay himany (partner-related) maintenance.
Oh dear god, yes. I had the dubious pleasure of reading this the other day.
Both writers are humour-free zones, and in RC's case the reader can lose the will to live before managing to glean any form of entertainment/information of value.
I do feel sorry for her RC's soon to be ex-husband. Having agreed to give up his career to be the full time stay at home parent to their children, RC now does not wish to pay him any (partner-related) maintenance.
(Don't even ask why I was browsing Craigslist myself but this is definitely not what I was looking for but the advert title "The strangest proposition ever" did grab my attention and opened it up only to find exactly how Liz met her RS !!!!)
Maybe Liz Jones could provide some tips on how to revive one's finances overnight, without explanation.
According to Jane Street Porter's column this week.. LJ bought the "cupboard" in Clerkenwell not renting as she maintained. Not sure what's going on at DM but in reader letters page comment printed slating LJ's non-existent journalistic skills, face-lift articles... and to add salt praising a couple of other DM female journalists. Hope it's a sign she's on the P45 list but knowing DM track record she'll probs get a pay rise and extended contract. Think the DM editor is a completely useless wimp from what I've seen. :rolleyes:
I wonder if this 'live-in housekeeper' is the same 'aupair' that according to Shona's facebook 'did a runner' in September 2011?
Oh well, that answers my question.
I had been expecting a heartrending article about skint Shona having to fire the housekeeper ... and then hiring her back via the JSA/workfare work experience scheme (a la Tesco's). Every cloud having a silver lining and all that :cool:
tee, hee - the Heil is one long girl-on-girl mud wrestle, Paul Dacre holds the coats
*throws Paul another coat...or two:*
At the library earlier, I took a peek at today's DM Weekend Magazine. ( )
(For the sake of respectability, I took care to hide it inside a copy of Boy Band Botherers, Fortnightly).
The two 'big' interviews - with Anne Robinson and Julian Clary- were handled by Chrissey Iley. The rest -with one exception- by other assorted female journalists, including one Ms Jan Moir.
Wherefore art thou, Jonesy?
LJ has been on the missing list since 20th Feb. Given that she never ever takes time off, should we send out a search party?
At the library earlier, I took a peek at today's DM Weekend Magazine. ( )
(For the sake of respectability, I took care to hide it inside a copy of Boy Band Botherers, Fortnightly).
The two 'big' interviews - with Anne Robinson and Julian Clary- were handled by Chrissey Iley. The rest -with one exception- by other assorted female journalists, including one Ms Jan Moir.
Wherefore art thou, Jonesy?
LJ has been on the missing list since 20th Feb. Given that she never ever takes time off, should we send out a search party?Should we?
Oh, don't bother - please don't bother.
Since the link to the diary show's last week's effort, I took the trouble (how sad is that?) to investigate further and came up with this:
Now if this is this week's diary (and since the title begins with 'In which I...' which is, I suppose, a clue), then it is stunningly awful. I won't bother to go into why.
Now if this is this week's diary (and since the title begins with 'In which I...' which is, I suppose, a clue), then it is stunningly awful. I won't bother to go into why.
Tis stunningly awful indeed.
And she says she gets paid a pound per word...
:eek: :eek:
Now if this is this week's diary (and since the title begins with 'In which I...' which is, I suppose, a clue), then it is stunningly awful. I won't bother to go into why.
Your link doesn't work.
This Sunday's diary seems to be a repeat performance of last weeks.
The link is either coming up as 'not working' or going back to last weeks Dreary.
The actual content is dire. Its not even a 'dreary' diary entry. Its like filler , which could have been written by someone else, or LJ from her padded room at the nice hospital, if they haven't taken the pens off her. Or perhaps she wrote it on the plane to Australia?
Since the links are not working, here is some of it copied and pasted and you'll get the drift of it.
Few words or phrases that I have brought into the vernacular, and that I think should be in the Oxford English Dictionary…
I’ve been puppied verb This occurs whenever anyone gets close to Grace Kelly or Mini Puppy. Grace will dabble her paws in her own stress wee (see below) before planting two feet on your front or derrière, as though she were making potato prints. If your cuffs are frayed, your nose bleeding, your wellingtons have become mere shoe boots, your sofa a pile of feathers, then you have well and truly been puppied. If you return from a walk ashen, and hoarse from shouting, you have been Mini puppied.
Poor me adj This began as a saying when I worked on the Evening Standard, when I would dispatch the young, pretty female writer off on difficult doorstepping assignments and she would wail, ‘I don’t want to do this stupid story! Poor me!!!’ It has transmogrified into ‘Poor, poor me’, such as when I learned from my insurance firm that they had written off my BMW after I drove it through flood water. This particular ‘Poor, poor me’ was closely followed by ‘sodding Somerset!’
Oily bath noun There have been far too few of these of late. Traditionally, an oily bath entails a generous glug of Acqua di Parma bath oil but, for reasons unbeknown to mankind, this has now been discontinued. A good substitute is Ren Rose Otto bath oil. During periods of extreme poverty, I have been forced to bathe in plain water, which is obviously horrendous, exposing as it does one’s cellulite and unwaxed legs.
Stress wee noun Grace Kelly has, sort of, got the idea she should do a wee wee from her bot bot (I swear this is actually how I talk to my animals) when we are on one of our long walks. Generally, though, Gracie saves up her wee wee so that she can get her own way. ‘Don’t make Gracie stress wee!’ is now a common cry. All Gracie has to do to avoid being shut in the kitchen, or told to go downstairs and not eat the cat biscuits, or be told please do not chew the sofa, is to squirm, show her pink tummy, and threaten to stress wee. The other day, she even did one when I placed her new collar around her scrawny little neck.
She included FWD, puddled,LOL, night night biscuits and a few more. Its all a bit odd.
Comments
I thought she couldn't get into fashion shows because of the bad write ups she gave certain designers? Her behaviour towards security people is just her usual rude and pushy self.
Of course, Liz, you are always the epitome of politeness and grace. :rolleyes:
Yet again she makes it about her again and as usual can't resist a bitchy poke at the rich and famous. She talks about being 'put off [her] food' - for an anorexic it wouldn't matter.
She witters on about it being 'an expensive affair' - for a woman who blows 700 quid on Prada boots she'll never wear whilst waiting for a plane, she'd hardly have wanted it to be held in a church hall with food from Burger King.
the Graun's Jess Cartner-Morley seemed to enjoy the McCartney bash - maybe their world view is more in line with Stella's than the Heil
Nope. But admonition to be "polite", from a person who drones on about snarling, snapping and shouting at just about anyone who enters her air space, made me smile.
is Rachel Cusk the new Liz Jones? I think we should be told! :eek:
Oh dear god, yes. I had the dubious pleasure of reading this the other day.
Both writers are humour-free zones, and in RC's case the reader can lose the will to live before managing to glean any form of entertainment/information of value.
I do feel sorry for her RC's soon to be ex-husband. Having agreed to give up his career to be the full time stay at home parent to their children, RC now does not wish to pay him any (partner-related) maintenance.
I just hate this lay-it-all-bare-to-the-world form of confessional writing. Whether it's a book, a blog or a diary, I don't think anyone's half as interested in the minutae of their lives that these journos think we are.
Liz's diary would certainly benefit from no descriptions at all of her Brazilian waxings, dubious phone sex and Hanro Swiss undies.
I think in his place, I'd have bumped her off
What an unpleasant-sounding person.
Exactly.
It's all 'I, I, I, me, me, me' as well. She and LJ must be related.
I wonder what her husband's view of things is?
http://london.craigslist.co.uk/m4w/2844072315.html
(Don't even ask why I was browsing Craigslist myself but this is definitely not what I was looking for but the advert title "The strangest proposition ever" did grab my attention and opened it up only to find exactly how Liz met her RS !!!!)
'Stuck in the rent trap: How one family kept remortgaging their home until they could no longer afford the repayments'
*Weep as an impoverished Mail journalist is 'forced' from her posh mortgaged residence into a ........ £2000 per month rented house!
*Marvel as she manages to churn out yet another shitey article to help pay her children's school fees! :eek:
How ever will the plucky lass manage?
http://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-2012483/I-survive-live-housekeeper.html
http://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-1332846/Take-girls-private-school-Id-starve.html
Maybe Liz Jones could provide some tips on how to revive one's finances overnight, without explanation.
According to Jane Street Porter's column this week.. LJ bought the "cupboard" in Clerkenwell not renting as she maintained. Not sure what's going on at DM but in reader letters page comment printed slating LJ's non-existent journalistic skills, face-lift articles... and to add salt praising a couple of other DM female journalists. Hope it's a sign she's on the P45 list but knowing DM track record she'll probs get a pay rise and extended contract. Think the DM editor is a completely useless wimp from what I've seen. :rolleyes:
ARGHHHHHHH SHONA SIBURY!!
DONT. EVEN. GET. ME. STARTED!
Oh well, that answers my question.
I had been expecting a heartrending article about skint Shona having to fire the housekeeper ... and then hiring her back via the JSA/workfare work experience scheme (a la Tesco's). Every cloud having a silver lining and all that :cool:
*throws Paul another coat...or two:*
At the library earlier, I took a peek at today's DM Weekend Magazine. (
(For the sake of respectability, I took care to hide it inside a copy of Boy Band Botherers, Fortnightly).
The two 'big' interviews - with Anne Robinson and Julian Clary- were handled by Chrissey Iley. The rest -with one exception- by other assorted female journalists, including one Ms Jan Moir.
Wherefore art thou, Jonesy?
LJ has been on the missing list since 20th Feb. Given that she never ever takes time off, should we send out a search party?
Should we?
Oh, don't bother - please don't bother.
Since the link to the diary show's last week's effort, I took the trouble (how sad is that?) to investigate further and came up with this:
http://www.dailymail.co.uk/home/you/article-2104273/In-I-coin-choice-words.html
Now if this is this week's diary (and since the title begins with 'In which I...' which is, I suppose, a clue), then it is stunningly awful. I won't bother to go into why.
Tis stunningly awful indeed.
And she says she gets paid a pound per word...
:eek: :eek:
OMG!! Jonsey gets named-checked with Dickens!!!! :eek:
Your link doesn't work.
This Sunday's diary seems to be a repeat performance of last weeks.
http://www.dailymail.co.uk/home/you/article-2100965/Liz-Joness-Diary.html
The actual content is dire. Its not even a 'dreary' diary entry. Its like filler , which could have been written by someone else, or LJ from her padded room at the nice hospital, if they haven't taken the pens off her. Or perhaps she wrote it on the plane to Australia?
Since the links are not working, here is some of it copied and pasted and you'll get the drift of it.
Few words or phrases that I have brought into the vernacular, and that I think should be in the Oxford English Dictionary…
I’ve been puppied verb This occurs whenever anyone gets close to Grace Kelly or Mini Puppy. Grace will dabble her paws in her own stress wee (see below) before planting two feet on your front or derrière, as though she were making potato prints. If your cuffs are frayed, your nose bleeding, your wellingtons have become mere shoe boots, your sofa a pile of feathers, then you have well and truly been puppied. If you return from a walk ashen, and hoarse from shouting, you have been Mini puppied.
Poor me adj This began as a saying when I worked on the Evening Standard, when I would dispatch the young, pretty female writer off on difficult doorstepping assignments and she would wail, ‘I don’t want to do this stupid story! Poor me!!!’ It has transmogrified into ‘Poor, poor me’, such as when I learned from my insurance firm that they had written off my BMW after I drove it through flood water. This particular ‘Poor, poor me’ was closely followed by ‘sodding Somerset!’
Oily bath noun There have been far too few of these of late. Traditionally, an oily bath entails a generous glug of Acqua di Parma bath oil but, for reasons unbeknown to mankind, this has now been discontinued. A good substitute is Ren Rose Otto bath oil. During periods of extreme poverty, I have been forced to bathe in plain water, which is obviously horrendous, exposing as it does one’s cellulite and unwaxed legs.
Stress wee noun Grace Kelly has, sort of, got the idea she should do a wee wee from her bot bot (I swear this is actually how I talk to my animals) when we are on one of our long walks. Generally, though, Gracie saves up her wee wee so that she can get her own way. ‘Don’t make Gracie stress wee!’ is now a common cry. All Gracie has to do to avoid being shut in the kitchen, or told to go downstairs and not eat the cat biscuits, or be told please do not chew the sofa, is to squirm, show her pink tummy, and threaten to stress wee. The other day, she even did one when I placed her new collar around her scrawny little neck.
She included FWD, puddled,LOL, night night biscuits and a few more. Its all a bit odd.
this is her other article. Shame, she never got her freebie coat.