Janet Street-Porter: Gwyneth Paltrow to Tamara Ecclestone, when celebs say they're normal, they're not
Last weekend, the cold wind was still blowing, the sun feeble and intermittent. I was eating a comforting breakfast of black pudding and tomatoes on toast, putting off the day to start losing winter flab.
The clocks may be on summer time, but as long as I’m wearing sweaters to cut heating bills, stodge remains on the menu.
I almost choked on my toast, though, reading that Gwyneth Paltrow — whose new super-faddy cookbook is clumsily entitled It’s All Good: Delicious, Easy Recipes That Will Make You Look Good And Feel Great — thinks she’s ‘normal’.
Not one Gwyneth's favourite superfoods gets shelf space chez JSP. Quinoa tastes like cardboard, no matter what Gwyneth may claimGwynnie says: ‘One of my most negative qualities is . . . perfectionism . . . it comes from self-doubt and insecurity . . . I’m just a normal mother with the same struggles as any other . . . trying to do everything at once, trying to be a wife and maintain a relationship.’ Ha ha ha.
This self-appointed queen of catering for the beautiful people is anything but normal — she’s decided to shun coffee, alcohol, eggs, shellfish, potatoes, tomatoes, peppers, aubergines, corn, wheat, meat or anything processed.
Her kitchen ‘essentials’ include kimchi (fermented Korean cabbage, not something you’ll find in Lidl), coconut water, Vegenaise (an egg-free mayo) quinoa and goji berries.
Not one of these alleged superfoods gets shelf space chez JSP. Quinoa tastes like cardboard, no matter what Gwyneth may claim.
Mrs ‘Normal’ recently posted suggestions for a new spring wardrobe costing £300,000 on her website Goop, telling fans they were suitable for ‘all aspects of your busy life’.
How am I managing without a £500 iPad case designed by Valentino? (It’s a struggle.)
The bizarre line-up on Britain's Got Talent is hardly normal - David Walliams is a dear friend and would balk at being described in this way, it's Amanda Holden who is the worstFor the rich and famous, demonstrating that you’re nothing special is the Holy Grail, the way to connect with fans and flog your latest book, movie or telly show. I grew up with working-class parents who were terrified of what the neighbours would think, and wanted to blend in at all costs.
Now, I couldn’t care less — most of us don’t even know our neighbours anyway. Last week, the BBC trumpeted their Great British Class Survey, devising seven different categories into which we all have to fit, from Established Middle Class, to Emergent Service Workers, to the deprived Precariat.
I immediately chose to be in the Elite 6 per cent (to hell with whether I actually qualify).
Who wants to be stuck in the dreary middle? These surveys are rubbish — most of us secretly think we’re interesting individuals in our own right, different and special in our own way, and we are.
Our vibrant culture is made up of countless tribes and we celebrate our differences.
That’s why Britain has spawned punks, rockabillies, goths, fantastic artists and world-class designers — people who didn’t fit in and who stood out from the norm. That’s why we have dozens of magazines and newspapers, brilliant bloggers and top comedians.
The Queen of Fake Normality is Kate Winslet and Tamara Ecclestone is my favourite 'normal' celebrity with her £3b trust fundSo why do so many rich and famous people blather on about being normal when they’re precisely the opposite? Being different is what we like about them.
Politicians are just as guilty. David Cameron is always popping down to the pub to be snapped having a pint (not fooling me), and George Osborne has adopted a strange Estuary accent. Nick Clegg goes skiing and stays in his parent’s chalet worth millions, but claims he’s not from a privileged
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Even the new Pope isn’t immune. He’s shunned palatial apartments, choosing to live in a bedsit with a kitchenette so he can make his own coffee in the morning and feel more in touch with his humble roots back in Buenos Aires.
Mind you, he still has the Sistine Chapel, a private bank and a world-renowned museum to wander around at will — so it’s fair to assume that normality for any leader of the Roman Catholic Church is a relative concept.
The bizarre line-up on Britain’s Got Talent is hardly normal — David Walliams is a dear friend and would balk at being described in this way.
But Amanda Holden, she of the tiny frocks, frozen face, teetering heels and immaculate hair and make-up, tells us she went back to work three weeks after she nearly lost her life giving birth to her baby Hollie because ‘being normal in my house is Mummy doing Britain’s Got Talent’. She’s honest, but I wonder what kind of example this sets to her seven-year-old daughter Lexi? That work must always come first, however fragile you feel?
Amanda gushes: ‘I am lucky to have a career . . . that allows me to spend so much of my time being a normal mother, living a normal life in a normal home.’
There’s that word again. The Queen of Fake Normality is Kate Winslet, six times nominated for an Oscar, who won an Academy Award for The Reader and made one of the most embarrassing, gushy speeches ever.
Kate is married to a ‘normal’ bloke who changed his name from Ned Abel Smith to Ned Rocknroll, and when they won a court battle to prevent semi-naked pictures of him being published, the couple announced they wanted ‘to live a relatively normal life’.
Since then, obviously eager to keep up appearances, the actress has been spotted in a supermarket in Hampstead.
But my favourite ‘normal’ person of all time remains the heiress Tamara Ecclestone, who manages to get by on a £3 billion trust fund and whose dad Bernie bought her a £45 million Kensington house as a starter home.
She told a reporter: ‘I’m just a normal girl . . I’m not an airhead. I enjoy shopping and going on holiday.’
Even the royals have been struck down by the bug. In January, after completing a four-month tour of duty, Prince Harry told a reporter: ‘Being in Afghanistan is as normal as it’s going to get for me. . . I’m one of the guys, I don’t get treated any differently.’
Matt Damon, who plays ‘normal’ guys in all his movies, says he’s lucky because ‘my wife (they met when she was working as a bartender) is a civilian, and that takes a lot of the pressure off’.
It’s so difficult being a millionaire and wanting to live the ‘normal’ life. Personally, I’d be happy with a butler.
You’re rolling in it, Mick — play for free!July 5, 1969, was a fantastic summer’s day. I walked from our flat in Chelsea to Hyde Park to see the Rolling Stones give a free concert (along with at least 250,000 other people), took a picnic and wine and camped out on a blanket.
Later on, after a nap and a few cups of tea, we walked down to the Royal Albert Hall and enjoyed Chuck Berry in concert followed by The Who.
The Stones hardly represent counter-culture any moreThe rockers at the top of the hall heated up pennies and chucked them down on the heads of the mods dancing below, furious that Chuck had shared a bill with their sworn enemies. I can honestly say it was one of the most exciting days of my entire life — the Stones were at their outrageous best, with Mick wearing a white frock by Ossie Clark — who had designed me a purple crepe wedding dress just over 18 months earlier.
These memories are why I won’t be shelling out £95 (standing at the back) to £330 (for a VIP package) to see them again. They’ve made enough money over 44 years, so why can’t they give something back to London?
The Stones hardly represent counter-culture any more.
Smooth FM won’t turn on a moody Panda
She’s gone off her food and is definitely grumpy, so keepers say Tian Tian — the female giant panda on loan to Edinburgh Zoo — is ready to mate and are testing her urine twice a day to predict the 36-hour window when she’s likely to fancy a spot of nookie with Yang Guang, her partner.
They are kept in separate enclosures and when the moment comes, it will be shielded from the public gaze in a ‘tunnel of love’, with smooth radio playing in the background. Yang Guang is said to be ‘ready’ — he’s been performing handstands and generally showing off.
Based on my experience, it will take more than Marvin Gaye and a couple of handstands to summon up interest in a chap you haven’t chosen yourself who spends all day eating. How about turning off the cameras, issuing a news blackout and giving the poor animals a spot of privacy?
Banged up for bangers
Former detective Nicholas MacFadden was convicted last week for making hundreds of thousands of pounds selling drugs that had been seized by the police. His brother Simon, a former debt collector, received a 16-year sentence for drug dealing and money laundering.
The court reports confirm that Simon spent a large part of his share of these gains on expensive sausages, washed down with gallons of champagne! What was in those porkers?
