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The Herald Scotland
20 minutes ago
- The Herald Scotland
I found Sarah Vine's book unexpectedly heart-wrenching
If you were an aspiring politician seeking to annexe a seat anywhere south of Liverpool (and you'd be amazed how many Scots have done so) then be conversant with this woman's weekly chronicles. When I met her to discuss her book amidst the streets that form her Kensington hunting grounds, she'd written that day about the kitchen psycho-drama of Prince Harry's fractured (and probably irredeemable) relationship with his father, King Charles. In Scotland, we who fancy ourselves to be above these royal tribulations, dismiss them and cite them as evidence in the case against the Union. In England though, and most especially in working-class neighbourhoods, the Windsors' bizarre rituals are Shakespearian. They take sides and cheer on their champions from this cursed House. Read more Kevin McKenna: It's not long though – just a few pages, really – until (horror of horrors) you find yourself emotionally captured by her story of being married to the former Tory cabinet minister, Michael Gove. And how a once happy union was chiselled out by Brexit and by the class structure that still exists at the top of the Tories on which they spend a lot of money and time to conceal from the rest of us. You begin investing in this story about how Westminster's political thresher (and maybe Holyrood's too) can steal your soul if you're foolish enough to believe you can surf it and remain upright. It's also about surviving as a woman amidst the casual sexism that still pervades my industry and the outright misogyny that runs through Big Politics. There are startling moments, not least an egregiously misogynistic insult aimed at her by the comedian, Stewart Lee, in his Observer column. 'As a student, David Cameron is rumoured to have put his penis into a dead pig. To outdo him, Michael Gove put his penis into a Daily Mail journalist.' On a family trip to New York, they're spotted by another British couple. Not even the presence of their two children – 10 and 12 – spares them. 'W****** like you shouldn't be allowed to have children,' shouted the woman. 'The point I was trying to make, is one about the one process of dehumanisation,' she tells me. 'They don't see you as a person. I write for the Daily Mail and I was married to a Tory. So the normal rules of decency are suspended.' Vine admires current Conservative leader Kemi Badenoch (Image: Stefan Rousseau) She admires the current Conservative leader, Kemi Badenoch. 'She's got the balls to do it; she's got the appetite and is feisty and she has a vision and isn't afraid to ram it home. We're told that one dog year equals seven human years. It's the same with politicians.' She's right, of course. Politicians seem to age before our eyes in the term of a single parliament. Ms Vine's story – even without the politics and the tiaras – is a compelling one. Of a girl living in Italy where her affluent parents had moved to embrace la dolce vita amidst their extra-marital affairs and the tantrums that followed them and who felt like an ugly duckling in a school full of young Mediterranean beauties. Of being psychologically abused by her dad, who seemed embarrassed at his daughter's physical appearance (she still frets about her weight and discusses her alopecia and her anti-depressants). One entry leaves you shredded. It's when, as a teenager, she returns to Italy for the summer from boarding school in England where she'd starved herself into something approaching svelte. Her dad now felt she was fit enough for him to be seen in public with her in Italian café society, at one point instructing her 'to wiggle for a table'. I found this heart-wrenching to the extent that I immediately resolved to call my own two daughters and just, you know, be closer to them. What things were said and unsaid; how many were the hugs not given? She tells me that the stuff about her dad needed to be in there 'to explain who I am and what I am and why I'm so flawed'. She'd sent the book to her brother. 'Is this okay? You were there too; you remember all that stuff.' He'd called and said: 'Sarah, honestly, you've been far too nice.' She had called her dad to tell him there was material in the book he may find uncomfortable. 'He said 'Oh alright then, and went back to watching the telly'.' Back to England then and university (languages) and falling into journalism after a fateful encounter with some of Fleet Street's finest in one of their taverns. And then meeting Michael Gove on a skiing trip with the nucleus of what would later be called 'the Notting Hill Set': There's a perception among Scottish journalists that the old English newspaper titles are populated by the scions of old families who weren't considered smart enough for high political office and thus favours had to be called in. Ms Vine though, is a proper old-school journalist who has held down most jobs in the gnarly business of producing newsprint. There's no question of her not having earned her position. I was once asked what had made the Mail so popular across all classes in England. The best I could come up with was that they represented the Margo Leadbetter character in The Good Life. In one episode, she's in a long Post Office queue being truculently fobbed off at the counter. 'I am the voice of the Silent Majority,' she'd said. Margo seemed to embody those English stereotypes we both love and hate: of enduring challenges with stalwart resilience because, well … being English obliges you to care without showing it; to be silent in adversity, confident perhaps that you'll have your moment and that it will be a terrible one indeed. I love them for it and loathe them in equal measure. Perhaps though, it's that early Italian influence on Ms Vine that enkindled her desire in this book to settle a few scores; to chivvy those who were inconstant or who disappeared when she was deemed no longer to possess a social cachet. It's not revenge, as such, more an abjuration that they should perhaps have known that this day would come when the smart, sassy columnist – the Wednesday Witch in Daily Mail parlance – would strap on her stilettoes and have her day in long form with one of Britain's top publishers. The inside story of Brexit and how it laid waste to relationships and brought families to the brink of breaking up is a dominant theme. Did it wreck her own – happy – marriage to Michael Gove who is now out of politics entirely? Or, would they still have split? Would he always have been drawn like a moth to the flame of politics; while she with her daily, acerbic registers refused to adopt the role of dutiful Tory wife bred to endure and to absorb and to be silent? In the end it wasn't a clash of personalities, or infidelity or excessive drinking; or abnormal behaviour which sealed the split, but the sight of her husband choosing to absent himself with a book in the upstairs bedroom of their new home while she and her elderly mum (who had flown from Italy to help with the flitting) did all the heavy lifting. Before then, a sense of isolation had begun to settle on them both. The gradual, wretched realisation that for all their brains and unprivileged endeavour; for their wit and charisma, they'd never quite been accepted within their set. And that, when the chips were down and the balloon was up and the lights had gone out, a process of social exclusion by stealth was well underway. They had committed the cardinal sin of failing to acknowledge their place in the grand scheme: deference to the upper classes of High Toryism. To the naked, unschooled eye, they were both at the very apex of England's social, political and cultural food chain. But when Michael Gove had defied his friend, David Cameron, by becoming a chief Brexiteer and Sarah Vine had backed him they were brutally disabused of any notions about parity of esteem. Read more Kevin McKenna: In these circles, your status is conferred for eternity by the title deeds of 13th century land-grabs. They were best of friends with David and Samantha Cameron and Ms Vine had been Godmother to their daughter. When you step outside the role laid down for you though – absolute obeisance – you get voided. The book though, also slakes your appetite for dinner party capers among the horsey set and names are dropped like confetti. It's all rather glorious and we're treated to occasional forays into the inter-marital houghmagandie of the upper crust, because, we all know that the High Tories are all fond of their shagging and probably still claim a bit of your 'droit de seigneur' This is most memorably narrated when a bright and loyal Tory adviser, is hinted to be conducting an affair with Samantha Cameron's stepfather, William Astor. This unravelled in what seemed a most cut-glass, English manner. There were no names and no big red-top screamer … just an unmarked entry by the Mail's kenspeckle diarist, Richard Kay hinting at a tryst. And lo, she was gone and never heard of again, while the old goat emerged relatively unscathed. It's here that I must offer some words of advice to Ms Vine. If her book makes it into paperback and thence into a Netflix adaptation (virtually guaranteed) please be rid of the cover on this hardback edition. It's dreadful and exceedingly low-calibre, showing a woman lying fully prone and face down. It channels an energy that's entirely at odds with the dynamics of Ms Vine's rise, fall and recovery. How Not to be a Political Wife: HarperCollins £20
Daily Mirror
37 minutes ago
- Daily Mirror
American living in UK visits Poundland for the first time and shares honest verdict
A man couldn't believe his eyes when he went into Poundland, but then admitted he expected something completely different than what the popular shop actually offered An American in the UK visited Poundland for the first time, a staple on most British high streets, but he's been left feeling a little bit 'suspicious' of the shopping experience. TikTok user @kjordyyy, who is an American living in the UK, shared he had to check out the shop "for the name alone," possibly making the assumption that everything would be just £1. When he went through the entrance, he said he walked "approximately 10ft" and it was giving "Dollar General vibes," but he said: "Their things aren't a pound, which is kind of crazy" - and it's a conversation Brits have likely had between themselves again and again. He flipped the camera around to show some laundry detergent that was actually £3, rather than the £1 he thought it would be. "They also sell clothes as well," he said, as he explored the aisles of the store, likening it to a "low-key mini Walmart". He continued: "I'll be honest, most dollar stores back home are sort of dirty, dingy, but there's something so clean and sterile about this one. "Like it's so pristine, everything's so in order for a dollar store - pop off UK." But he did share he thought it should have a different name other than Poundland, joking it's good it wasn't called "Pound Town". Exploring some more of the store, he stumbled upon the Party Rings, saying his British friends shared with him they were a "staple" when they were growing up - but he never had them. He then filmed himself walking round saying he was "living the dream in Poundland" and he was "generally shook with the variety" of things you can buy in the shop. "It's not a big store from the outside," he shared, but "they have a little bit of everything" for you to buy. He joked: "I think I've explored every square inch of this store. I don't know what I was expecting from a Poundland, but it's pretty legit." TikTok user @kjordyyyy ended the video by asking his followers to recommend other "odd stores" to him, so he could visit. Someone suggested he needs to go to Home Bargains, joking he would "never leave" once he entered the shop, as there are so many cheap things. A woman wrote: "It used to cost £1 for items, now they're all different prices. I'm 29, but I've seen that change since my childhood. The future is bleak. Party rings are the best, though, so as long as they exist, it will bring me a small joy." Another pointed out there was actually a shop called Pound Town, saying: "There is genuinely a shop called Pound Town in Kingsbury (on the Jubilee line in London)."
Daily Mail
6 hours ago
- Daily Mail
ALEXANDRA SHULMAN'S NOTEBOOK: Marvellous Michelle will be utterly fab... as me
As a general rule, fashion biopics are hysterical, overblown dramas filled with characters far too ludicrous to be accurate depictions of the inspiring creatives they're based on. So when I heard there was a film in the works about the late Isabella Blow – the maverick fashion editor and early muse and associate of Alexander McQueen – I assumed the worst. But The Queen Of Fashion, which has just wrapped, might be an exception. There's a first-rate cast and it has been endorsed by many of Issy's closest friends and collaborators. The excellent Andrea Riseborough is cast as the eccentric and visionary Issy, and – trumpet sound here – apparently I am played, as editor of British Vogue, by Michelle Dockery. Dockery is one of my favourite British actresses. She can display hauteur and brutality in equal measure. As Lady Mary in Downton Abbey she perfected the cut-glass accent, while in Guy Ritchie 's The Gentleman she was transfixing as the drug baron's hard-bitten Cockney wife. So I am delighted by her casting. In truth, it's not only her acting skills I'm thrilled about. She's just fabulous looking. Who wouldn't want to be portrayed by this elegant beauty? I know nothing of the movie's storyline but I strongly suspect my character won't be treated kindly. Although I was a huge supporter of Issy, introduced her to Vogue and gave her licence and encouragement to produce the stories she was keen on, her own recollections differed. She ultimately saw me as someone who let her down. If the film takes that angle, at least being played by someone as attractive as Dockery will be some compensation. Stop treating Mr Fox as fantastic Last Monday, while we were away, guests staying in our house sent me pictures of several rooms. They showed shoes scattered everywhere, including a pair of half-destroyed sheepskin slippers lying on our bed. One of my Adidas Gazelle sneakers had been dragged from one room to another and torn apart, while the guest's own shoes were in pieces. She was sure the garden door hadn't been left open at any time and there was no sign of a human intruder – nothing of value, such as our laptops, had been taken. Even more oddly, no food in the kitchen had been attacked. We still don't know what happened, but assume the wretched foxes that plague our lives managed to get through the cat flap. Some people have fond feelings toward the vulpine creatures. Not me. I have previous form with them. A few years ago, I discovered one in the living room sitting calmly on the sofa watching Netflix. Once it had been shooed out, I stupidly sat down where it had been and promptly contracted the most painful condition I have ever had – fox scabies. Anyone who thinks these are sweet little creatures who should be fed and cared for is insane. Unfortunately, round our parts they are now as prolific as squirrels. As is the trail of rubbish they leave across the back gardens and pavements. AI can't capture our true beauty I wrote a few months ago about how some modelling agencies are starting to licence the rights to images of their models for use in AI. Then, last week, a story broke about a flawless AI-generated model in a Guess advert in Vogue. While AI models will no doubt become more popular, it's unlikely that they will replace models at the top end of the industry. Although being a clothes horse is the core of the job, a large reason why the most successful models have got where they are is their personality. Linda Evangelista, Cindy Crawford, Gigi Hadid, Kendall Jenner and Kate Moss are all bright women who bring a large dollop of character along with them. Linda Evangelista, Cindy Crawford (pictured), Gigi Hadid, Kendall Jenner and Kate Moss are all bright women who bring a large dollop of character along with them. They have become famous because they are interesting and look fantastic. AI can generate a flawless looking model but she won't exist off the page. And I doubt her looks will have that coveted kink, the slight 'strangeness in proportion' that philosopher Francis Bacon claimed is key to true beauty. See a playlist? I'd rather roll with it I'm off to see Oasis tonight and someone's offered to send me the playlist in advance. Why would I want to know the song line-up? Despite bingeing on Instagram snippets of the reunion tour, I have avoided finding out whether Don't Look Back In Anger or Wonderwall is the encore, or whether they will play Champagne Supernova. I've enjoyed prepping myself with lesser-known songs, just in case. Wanting to know a concert's playlist in advance is as baffling a concept to me as reading a restaurant's menu before you arrive. Anticipation is such a vital part of the experience. Put to shame – by a cool 11-year-old The young of today are different, that's for sure. I took an 11-year-old to see Jurassic World Rebirth at the cinema, with assurances that should he find it too frightening we could leave. As character after character was threatened and devoured by terrifying beasts, I kept glancing at my companion to check he was OK. He sat impassively through it all. Meanwhile, I was scared stiff and found the tension as unbearable as England's penalty shoot-out in last Sunday's Euros final. Is Gwynnie really such a mean girl? Amy Odell's biography of Gwyneth Paltrow paints her subject as a mean girl who becomes the toxic boss of Goop. Funny isn't it how it's always female employers who get tarred with this label? I have no idea how Gwyneth ran Goop but I do know it is frequently women leaders who are portrayed as demanding and cruel. And most often their accusers are other women – as the unnamed employees would have been at Goop. So much for the sisterhood. I hope the Isabella Blow biopic doesn't paint a similar picture of me.
