If there is one person on the planet who always gets my dander up it is Daily Mail columnist Liz Jones. She is something of a pantomime villain in my life, I ADORE hating her. I relish how her stupid, self-obsessed columns, completely devoid of wit or irony, always manage to raise my blood pressure. The righteous indignation I feel after reading her nonsense sets me up for the day. She is journalistic Berocca.
My main objections to the daft, crazy-eyed bint are:
1. She pleads poverty constantly. Usually in the same 'pity me' column she mentions how she feeds her colony of feral cats M&S prawns and whines that her £1.5 million country pile is still languishing on the market, thanks to the credit crunch. She constantly, with astonishing crassness and insensitivity, draws parallels between her situation and the lives of regular, low-income and unemployed people around the country.
'Ahhh yes, I understand extreme poverty, why just last week Squeaky the cat had no Creme de la Mer for his nose and the hens had to make do with organic Alpen for their breakfast.'
Liz recently bitchily sniped that she was sick of 'paying for other people's children' via her income tax (which funds schools, child benefit and the like).
'You chose to have them, pay for them yourself!'
Yet, in the very same column she berated her local bank for refusing to increase her overdraft limit so she could buy pet food.
You chose to have them Liz, pay for them yourself!
2. Liz hates other women. I recall how recently she complained that, as a magazine editor, she despised working in a field that was 99% female. Women employees are (according to LJ) self-obsessed, emotional half-wits who do nothing but 'moan, bitch and complain'. This from a woman who has built a whole journalistic career on moaning, bitching and complaining - indeed Liz writes a column entitled 'Liz Jones Moans'. 'Ah,', I hear you say, 'but Liz Jones Moans is probably a piercingly insightful critique of contemporary culture, a forum for fierce political debate'. Hardly, Liz's recent moans have included;
1. Catherine Zeta Jones' shiny forehead at the Golden Globes.
2. The lack of hair conditioner in hotel bedrooms.
3. Julianne Moore, who recently admitted she liked to wear her yoga clothes all day, which is apparently letting 50+ year old women everywhere down, with her slattern-like sloppiness. (Go Julianne, is what I say, I love a day spent in my velour 'Mavis Riley' lounge pants)
The guppy-brained, inanity of Liz's fashion columns always amuses. In recent weeks she has feverishly announced women's emancipation from the cruel 'stiletto' law. You know, the law that compelled us all to wear 8 inch heels. Were you not aware of such a law? Funny that. Neither was I.
'At last, after torturing ourselves in cartoon heels, flats are back'
Apparently, thanks to some cove called Karl Largerfeld, women's 'decades of torture' are over. He has decreed we are allowed to wear ballet-pumps. God bless you Karl. You have freed us from our bunion bondage, our sprained ankle suffrage. You, and Ms Jones, are truly modern day Pankhursts.
So ladies, thanks to nutjob Liz's fearless reporting from the front line of Paris Fashion Week (I wonder if she wore a khaki flak jacket, like Kate Adie in Beirut) we can celebrate the life-changing news that flatties are now legal. I don't know about you, but I am feeling a little emotional. To think, that such a change could come in my life-time. ***weeps***
You know, it is not often that the North East is at the cutting edge of fashion (tragically, shell suits are still big here). It is an even rarer occasion when a meek and lowly primary school teacher is ahead of the trends, but Liz, some of us have been wearing ballet pumps for years (they are £9 in Tesco)! I don't imagine many teachers, nurses, doctors, social workers etc etc have ever spent a day in 8 inch heels.
After reading Liz's bonkers 'flattie-gate' column I pondered what revolutionary proclamations she would be making in her next fashion piece. Something along the lines of,
'Gentleman, I am thrilled to announce a bold new fashion trend for Spring/Summer '11. Cast aside those terribly uncomfortable doublet and hose. Behold these new-fangled, life-altering garments called TROUSERS.'
This week's fashion column was equally as daft. Liz was giving us all an education in how to wear the 1970s look.
'Avoid turbans, anything gold, jumpsuits and hotpants.'
Phew. Just as well I read that Liz. I could have made a right tit of myself at the SOHK parent's evening in my Sikh go-go dancer outfit. Liz, yet again, you have saved the day!
I even had a mini-attempt at being Liz Jones myself, on Twitter. Here are my fashion tips for February ladies,
'Avoid badger skin leggings, platform boots and trench-coats made of kippers.'
You know, I think I could be good at this!