Celebrity

On the train home tonight, someone had left a photo glossy magazine on a seat behind me, Heat I think it was called. I was falling asleep reading my book, so I decided to retrieve it and give it a read through. It's not the kind of magazine I would buy, but I quite like a skim while at the doctors surgery for example.

Instead of it showing great photos of celebrities looking their best it contained papparazzi style photos of celebrities looking horrid. Some were of fashion disasters at premiers or parties. Most unpleasant, even photos of ladies underwear showing as they were getting out of cars.

One shot of Julia Roberts was particularly bad, showing her with no make-up and with a bad hair day. It destroyed my illusions.

I like stars. To me they are beyond normal human beings. I'm not saying they can't be nasty people but to an ordinary citizen they are icons of coolness or sexuality. I don't want to see the colour of their knickers as they make an unceremonious exit from a taxi cab. I want them to be beautiful, I want to suspend my disbelief and keep them fresh in my mind - unsullied by normal duties like parking the car or carrying a carrier bag from a grocery store.

So I shall avoid certain magazines in future. And why do they foster this type of naff photo by paying snappers thousands of pounds for photos that show people looking bad. The world is quite sick sometimes.