Fashion fascism

There's something about reading the Daily Telegraph on a morning that makes me want to go out and strangle the nearest squirrel. Since the squirrels in my neighbourhood are far too sensible to come within catapult range of my front door the only catharsis available is the blog.

The first thing that had me choking on my cereal today was a review of Trevor Nunn's Royal Shakespeare Company production of King Lear. Deprived of his leading lady at the start of the run, Nunn chose not to invite newspaper reviewers before her recovery. So they whinged. The Telegraph's reviewer, Charles Spencer, was still whinging this morning.

"Only yesterday did Trev graciously condescend to let the press in to review it," wrote Spencer. Hang on a minute Mr Spencer. You and every other journalist could have seen the play at any time had you done what every other theatre goer would do and bought a ticket.

Had you done so you could have provided the service to your readers that they deserve . But you didn't do that because, along with the rest of the press, you think you have a God given right to a free ticket when, in fact, the review invitation is a privilege not a right. The arrogance of journalists.

But Spencer was only raising the temperature of my blood. What brought it to boiling point was an article by Celia Walden who wrote the cattiest piece about middle aged men who wear jeans.

"At 45, it goes without saying that all jeans must be surrendered to a charity of your choice," she wrote.

My charity of choice is devoted to ending any further wastage of precious wood pulp on drivel like this. Sadly this charity does not yet exist so I will spend as much of my savings as I choose on whatever clothes that I choose and that includes jeans.

We all have a right to choose. Ms Walden, daughter of the former Tory MP, George Walden, has revealed something about her own taste in dating the bungling former editor of the Daily Mirror, Piers Morgan, whose own good judgement extended to buying shares in a company ahead of a Mirror story that tipped those self-same shares as a good buy. It looks a great match. They can wallow together in their mutual prejudices.

Virtual talent

I’ve created an imaginary “talent basket” for people with imaginary talent. To be internet trendy I might call it “virtual talent”. The idea is to have a balloon debate, chucking out those with the least talent, leaving anyone who has real talent in the basket.

Here are a few candidates: Jade Goody, Heather Mills, Eddie "The Eagle" Edwards, Piers Morgan, Pete Doherty, Liz Hurley, Tracey Emin and Damien Hirst. Who should go and who should be saved?

Jade Goody and Tracey Emin, as far as I can see, have no talent whatsoever. Of these two, I think I would chuck out Emin first simply because - although I can’t find any evidence of her ever having said so - she believes she may have some talent. Jade Goody, on the other hand, I’m sure, has never given it much thought.

Eddie "The Eagle" Edwards had guts, no doubt about that, but there wasn’t any talent, not even any showmanship. He simply launched himself down a ramp with a pair of skis, bounced over the edge and fell over. So he has to go.

Heather Mills has a famous ex-husband-to-be but not much discernible talent as far as I can see. Out she goes. Liz Hurley? Like Mills she has good looks. Specifically she has a big chest that was shown off in a Versace dress with gold safety pins which she wore when accompanying her then boyfriend, Hugh Grant, to a film premier in 1994. Thus she became famous. But does she have talent? Well not as an actress, her chosen profession. For superior acting talent pick any one of the Woodentops. Goodbye Liz.

So what about Piers Morgan, former daily Mirror editor? I would contest that Morgan does have some talent. Not much; certainly nowhere near enough to edit a national newspaper. He has plenty of chutzpah which you could say of most of these people. In fact they are brimming over with chutzpah. But talent has to be more than that. Sorry Mr Morgan, I just don’t think that “a little bit more talent than Jade Goody” is quite enough to secure your place in this balloon basket. Out you go.

That leaves Pete Doherty and Damien Hirst. My eldest son tells me that Pete Doherty has some talent because “he writes good lyrics”. Some say he’s a poet because he steals lines from people like Emily Dickinson.

This is a bit from a song called Stix and Stones:

“They said that I was as good as dead
And there was hope, but not for us together
My friend, oh my friend, oh my true friend, my phony friend
Oh well you know that that's the end, that's the end,
so far away down, down.”

Great lyrics? Poetry? Whoops, he’s out of the basket. And that leaves Damien Hirst. I do think that Hirst has some talent. His spot paintings were original and nicely arranged, as were Jackson Pollock’s paintings. Even the dead animals Hirst suspended in formaldehyde had some originality in the arrangement. So what about his pill boxes on pharmacy shelves? No. They were just pill boxes on pharmacy shelves.

Comparing greatness in art is the hardest thing. How do you compare Michelangelo with Monet, or Vermeer with Rothko? Impossible. But all were talented. Against all my expectations when I started this blog, I’m going to leave Hirst in the talent basket for his spot paintings alone. I might be wrong here, confusing fame with talent as many do. But there you go.

If I can think of any other potential talent basket rejects I will list them here in the weeks to come. Or list some yourself. But the idea is that they have some fame. I’m looking for people whose fame and earnings (on the back of their imaginary talent) have surpassed their real talent by some margin.

Tara Palmer-Tomkinson would be a difficult candidate since she does have real talent as a classical pianist but she is famous for being famous, not as a pianist. I would argue that there is some honesty in that. She is not pretending to be an artist or a poet and that thought has led me to another candidate: Yoko Ono. There must be many more.