The death of celebrity gossip
When I was in hospital for almost half a year, learning how to face life as a 'Halfling' – a person in a wheelchair, patronised and petted – the thing I looked forward to most was a normal, some would say banal, event. I longed to be in my local Pizza Express, in Hove, reading Heat magazine to my husband as he 'savoured' his American Hot. To put it mildly, I am a far faster eater than Mr Raven, and rather than chatter to him and expect an answer, thus hindering his progress still further, I read to him. To add to the fun, I framed the problems of the Beckhams or the Sussexes as those of people we actually know, doing the appropriate voices, which rendered it delightfully bitchy.
But when we went searching for Heat on my homecoming, it took half an hour and six shops to find it; we finally located one in W.H. Smith. None of the shops with 'newsagent' above their door had it – indeed, only a couple of them even had newspapers. And how long is Smiths going to exist? After a whopping 233 years, the truly iconic blue and white sign will not be seen for much longer, with the brand having been sold for £76 million to Modella Capital, which will change its name on the high street to T.G. Jones. A Modella spokesperson said: 'T.G. Jones feels like a worthy successor to the W.H. Smith brand. Jones carries the same sense of family and reflects these stores being at the heart of everyone's high street.'
Really? To me it feels like yet another step towards the death of that gorgeous invention, the magazine. Though the sales figures of The Spectator have long been a cause of celebration round these parts, it is the exception that proves the rule. Very few magazines – like newspapers – are in a healthy state and when I opened my longed-for copy of Heat, I wondered whether it had been worth the search. For example, the old Heat would have found the concept of gender-fluid-nepo-babies hilarious; the new Heat is a humourless 'ally'.
Heat was always different from other celebrity gossip magazines. It was neither slavish nor sleazy; it was knowing, and cheeky, and very much the brainchild of its editor Mark Frith. A boy from a Sheffield comp, he attended the University of East London, editing the college magazine but failing to graduate. He didn't need to – at 20 he joined Smash Hits, becoming editor three years later. Smash Hits was a wonderful thing; on the surface an excitable chronicler of the teen idols of the 1980s and 90s, it was sarky and playful, written by clever journalists who loved pop music while understanding how sublimely silly it was.
Frith was perfectly placed to spread this sensibility to entertainment generally, developing and becoming editor of Heat, launching in 1999 and going on to sell half a million copies every week with a readership of around two million. Heat was such an insider that it became the medium through which the squabble between Elton John and George Michael was conducted after it published the former snarking at his friend to 'get out more'. It was such a force that when with the porcelain-pale member of Girls Aloud Nicola Roberts it conducted a campaign calling for the banning of sunbeds for under-18s, a bill was passed in parliament.
The old Heat would have found the concept of gender-fluid-nepo-babies hilarious; the new Heat is a humourless 'ally'
Heat wasn't perfect; in 2007 it gave away a sheet of stickers, one of which bore a photograph of Katie Price's severely disabled son with the words 'HARVEY WANTS TO EAT ME!'. No matter how much one believes in freedom of speech, it was hard to disagree with Janice Turner in the Times that 'if a sticker mocking a blind and profoundly disabled boy doesn't mark some new low, what possibly could?'. Mind you, it was hard not to feel a flare of defensiveness when Turner also revealed: 'Recently at a magazine industry dinner Alastair Campbell told me he'd forbidden his teenagers from bringing Heat into his home. 'It poisons the minds of women and children.'' It was also described as a 'dirty, filthy piece of shit' by Ewan McGregor, which very much implies that it was doing its job properly.
The year before the sticker business, at 35, Mark Frith won the most prestigious award in magazines, the Mark Boxer Trophy, having already taken PPA Editor of the Year twice. The year after the Harvey Price debacle he left to write an excellent book, The Celeb Diaries: The Sensational Inside Story of the Celebrity Decade, in which he showcased himself as a sometimes sensitive soul, refusing to publish snaps of Amy Winehouse where she bore the marks of self-harming. Perhaps understandably, so much having happened so young, he now seems rather publicity-shy, with a LinkedIn page simply saying 'Editorial Director at Bauer Media'.
The NME in the 1970s, Smash Hits in the 80s, the Modern Review in the 90s, Heat in the Noughties: what they all had in common was the ability to create a cool club which the nerdiest of kids could join if they had the cover price. Magazines are ruddy expensive these days; I came out of Smiths with four of them, costing me nearly 20 quid. No wonder so many people stand around reading them from cover to cover in the shop. But there's still a lovely feeling about sitting outside a watering hole having a drink with a mate and an armful of mags on a sunny day and exclaiming over scandal together that staring slack-jawed at one's phone can never recreate – a feeling of transcendent frivolity and ease.
Such moments are increasingly rare. Many things have led to this: the internet, the rise of PR, cancel culture – as G.V. Chappell wrote here recently: 'Sadly, because everything's now so carefully choreographed, there's no danger of anything spontaneous and, therefore, interesting happening. This isn't a rallying cry for bad behaviour for its own sake – or an argument against common courtesy, which is already in decline – but rather a call to loosen the fetters that mean, in today's world, it's easier and safer to say nothing at all.' Even Popbitch, the online gossip hounds, once so eye-wateringly frank, have lost their bite. A recent item ran: 'Eamonn Holmes fell off his chair live on air on GB News a couple weeks back. Spookily this exact same thing on the exact same chair happened to Christopher Biggins a while back, off camera, we think. After a short inquest – and to head off the threat of future C-list legal claims no doubt – GB News have dumped the slippy studio chairs and ordered new ones.' The nearest that remains to the spirit of Heat is the Mail Online 'Sidebar of Shame'; but crucially, without the wit, and seemingly written by AI – 'a busty display' is used more times than seems reasonable any time a female celeb shows a hint of cleavage.
In Pizza Express, I finally admitted defeat, put down Heat (there's only so much pure molten excitement about Danny Dyer's daughter I can muster) and switched to regaling Mr Raven with gossip about my actual friends. Because these days, they seem far more scandalous and fascinating than celebrities.
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
Metro
9 hours ago
- Metro
90s pop icons missed out on Glastonbury legends slot for devastating reason
The Glastonbury legends slot almost turned a deeper shade of blue, Ian 'H' Watkins has revealed. For almost 30 years, Ian has been affectionately known as 'H', an acronym for Hyperactive – his energetic character being an instrumental part of Steps' success when personalities in pop weren't just all the rage, they were essential. It's a moniker which is a lot to live up to, though, particularly when you're in a band as exposed as Steps were. If they weren't playing to a sell-out arena, they were rarely off television, almost on SM:TV as much as Ant and Dec. In 1997, 5,6,7,8 was unleashed on the world to moderate success in the charts, but ruled school discos. It was a steady rise to the top of the charts for Steps when their fourth single, a cover of The Bee Gees' hit Tragedy, and a B Side of ballad Heartbeat got to number one in such an extraordinary fashion. It's sold more than 1.2million copies in the UK alone, a remarkable feat for any pop act from the Smash Hits era, and almost got them a spot on the Pyramid Stage at Glastonbury when it was saturated with nothing but guitar bands and 90s house DJs. 'The Bee Gees asked us to join them on stage,' Ian tells Metro. 'But it was a really late request, and we literally couldn't get it all together in time. Of course, some of them have passed away now, so that will never happen again. But that's another little jewel in the Steps crown.' With their own critically acclaimed musical, Here and Now, about to tour the UK and eventually make it to the West End, there are few things left on the Steps bucket list to tick off but they're not deterred from one day getting on that coveted Glastonbury bill, either in the Legends slot or the festival's first pop-friendly stage, Avalon. 'We're the only ones, really, from that era that have all the original members and are still going, so it feels like we've earned our stripes by now.' More than earning their stripes, Steps are still headlining festivals and breaking records. In 2022, they joined an exclusive club of bands to score a number one album across four decades. But now Watkins is on stage and topping charts as his true, authentic self. He has nothing to hide anymore – it's not the 90s when, if you were a good-looking male, the press was frothing to uncover secrets about your sex life. For Ian, there was always an underlying fear that they would discover he was gay when the press had a field day outing gay pop stars like Will Young and Stephen Gately. During one holiday with his then-boyfriend, Ian got the call he'd been dreading. 'They knew where I was, who I was with, and why I was there – I had a boyfriend. Immediately, I flew back from holiday, told my loved ones, told my family, told my parents, and then the next day, they didn't run the story, because I didn't give them quotes. 'But they threatened me for many years, and I felt like my coming out story was taken from me; my power was taken away, so it was a really emotional, dark time for me.' He wasn't alone, though. There were several pop stars gathered in the same closet, cautiously able to give solace to one another. Ian became particularly close with Lance Bass of N'SYNC and Boyzone's Gateley, but concedes: 'If the press knew you were gay, it was a really tricky thing to be seen together or to even admit that you were friends with another closeted gay person.' Instead, he clung to his closest straight women. His bandmate Lisa Scott-Lee, the girls from Liberty X and S Club… and Britney Spears. 'All of her dancers were gay anyway,' he says. 'People thought I was dating Brittany a long time ago, but that obviously wasn't the case – that was strange.' Ian is about to turn 50. Hyperactivity is no longer the personality he's defined by. His life is calmer, albeit busy with running his two children to school, walking the dogs, building a home, and organising his local annual Pride with his partner. 'Since having children, I've realised that education starts really early on, and it drowns out the bigotry,' he says. 'I go to all of the local schools and talk about how being different is something to be celebrated. My partner and I organise Cowbridge Pride, which is in its fifth year now. 'Cowbridge used to be the most conservative, laidback town, but now we have 2000 people marching every year, and we raise money for all of the schools to have LGBT resources in all of their libraries.' Ian is exactly where he's meant to be in life, and with Steps on a hiatus, he's finally managed to turn his passion project into a reality – a children's book, Pride and The Rainbow Warriors, educating children (and some parents) about LGBTQ+ history. All of the main characters represent a different colour in the original Pride flag, and all have traits corresponding to the original meaning. More importantly, Ian is finally cool to his children. 'Two of them are named after my kids – it's lush,' he grins. To view this video please enable JavaScript, and consider upgrading to a web browser that supports HTML5 video For those of us old enough to remember sneakily watching Queer As Folk with the volume turned down to one and one eye on the bedroom door in case anyone walked in, a children's book about LGBTQ+ was inconceivable. More Trending Now, with shows like Heartstopper becoming so hugely popular and a plethora of openly LGBTQ+ popstars ruling the charts, the world feels unrecognisable compared to just a few years ago. How children look at and look up to LGBTQ+ people is completely different today. 'It's something that I felt we needed, because there's a real lack of resources for children of all ages, also parents to be educated too,' he says. 'It's all about celebrating your superpower, and being different is an amazing thing. 'I was bullied terribly growing up because I was different, and I didn't know at that time what that different was. Luckily, I had an amazing art teacher, Mr. Owen, who is still one of my dear friends today, but if it wasn't for that man, who knows where I would have ended up.' Pride and The Rainbow Warriors is available in paperback now . Got a story? If you've got a celebrity story, video or pictures get in touch with the entertainment team by emailing us celebtips@ calling 020 3615 2145 or by visiting our Submit Stuff page – we'd love to hear from you. MORE: I went to Glastonbury and discovered it's just really overrated MORE: Heartbreaking reason Glastonbury nearly ended in the late 90s MORE: Glastonbury mystery performer 'gives away' appearance with arrival in the UK
Graziadaily
2 days ago
- Graziadaily
This Is The New Pizza Menu You'll Keep Coming Back To
We all have our old favourites at Pizza Express – dough balls, Sloppy Giuseppe and American Hot for us, thanks – but you'll be pleased to hear that they have switched up their menu for the summer - and it's delicious. The top chain's new menu, which launched on 10 June, sees fresh twists on old regulars along with some new additions. And if you think that all Pizza Express have to offer are pizzas and dough balls, then you may find yourself pleasantly surprised... So what's new at Pizza Express this summer? This menu is Grazia approved, as tried and tested by the entire team... Hawaiian Hot Dough Balls ©Pizza Express Say Aloha to this new take on the iconic starter. Tossed in garlic butter and loaded with crispy pancetta, pineapple pieces and parsley, then drizzled with The Sauce Shop's fiery Pineapple Habanero Hot Sauce, this dish is hot to go. Calabrian Feast ©Pizza Express A fiery meat lover's feast, this creation – which is packed with some serious heat – is loaded with 'nduja, Calabrese sausage, pepperoni and crispy pancetta, then layered with two types of creamy mozzarella, Gran Milano cheese. There's an extra addition of chilli and topped off with a drizzle of hot honey. Four Seasons Speciale ©Pizza Express There's something for everyone on this reimagined 1965 fave. Each quarter features different pizza toppings. One quarter has baby plum tomatoes, basil and pine kernel pesto and mozzarella, the second has pepperoni and Calabrese sausage, the third quarter features mushroom, truffle oil and Gran Milano cheese, while the fourth section is full of anchovies, capers and olives. on this iconic pizza. Buffalo Chicken Wings ©Pizza Express These are the latest addition to their current starters – which includes calamari, meatballs al forno, mozzarella sticks, Caprese salad and bruschetta. These chicken wings are smothered in spicy buffalo sauce, sprinkled with parsley and served with a classic cool blue cheese dip. Tasty! Birthday Cake Sundae ©Pizza Express Finish off your meal with this party in a glass. The perfect sharing treat, it has creamy vanilla gelato, a mini vanilla sponge cake filled with buttercream and raspberry jam, topped off with raspberry coulis, whipped cream and a sprinkle of Joe and Seph's gourmet Birthday Cake Popcorn. Find your nearest Pizza Express here. Shereen Low is a senior news and entertainment writer for Grazia UK, who has covered some of the biggest showbiz news from the past decade.
Scotsman
2 days ago
- Scotsman
The Death of Shame by Ambrose Parry review: 'rattles along compellingly'
Sign up to our Arts and Culture newsletter, get the latest news and reviews from our specialist arts writers Sign up Thank you for signing up! Did you know with a Digital Subscription to The Scotsman, you can get unlimited access to the website including our premium content, as well as benefiting from fewer ads, loyalty rewards and much more. Learn More Sorry, there seem to be some issues. Please try again later. Submitting... Edinburgh 1854: a successful society doctor, Cameron Tuck, climbs to the top of the Scott Monument on a winter's night and throws himself over the edge. We know it is an act of suicide, but his daughter Eugenie will not believe this. Marisa Haetzman and Chris Brookmyre, who write together under the penname Ambrose Parry. She herself is married to a young doctor, Will Raven, who is setting up his own practice with no help from his father-in-law. A former pupil of the great Sir James Simpson, the obstetrician, famous for first discovering the value of chloroform as an anaesthetic, Raven is being partly funded by another of Simpson's students, a young woman called Sarah Fisher who herself aspires to be a doctor, though another woman tells her she has no chance of becoming one and would be wiser to serve as a nurse with Florence Nightingale in the Crimean war. Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad This, after the leap from the Monument, is a suitably convincing, matter-of-fact opening to what proves to be a grim tale of vice and crime. One might add that it is clear from the first that Sarah is in love with Will, and as his marriage crumbles we are likely to hope they will come together in the end. Edinburgh has long been recognized as a two-faced city, a gift to the novelist exploited by, among others, Scott, Hogg and Stevenson, more recently by Spark and Rankin: virtue on the surface, vice flourishing in its lower depths, these also being explored by the well-to-do. Ambrose Parry, the husband-and-wife team of of Chris Brookmyre and Dr Marisa Haetzman, are in a well-established tradition, therefore, and write with gusto and understanding. There is a richly complicated plot - but one happily easy to follow and also admirably credible. It has two strands: first the question of what caused Tuck to leap to his death, the second a search of the city's brothels, with their often rich and supposedly virtuous patrons. Sarah's 12-year-old niece has come to the city for a position as a domestic servant but then disappeared. Has she been picked up in the street and taken to work in the sex trade? Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad On the one hand, Raven is confronted by the problem of his late father-in-law's finances: he has drawn money from his bank, which has disappeared. On the other, there is the question of Sarah's niece. There is, Raven discovers, a possible link. If young girls are vulnerable, so, in a different way, are their respected patrons. Raven soon learns of distinguished doctors being blackmailed. Was Dr Tuck one of them? To add to the dangers, a vigorous Gutter Press eagerly spreads stories of vice and corruption. The Death of Shame is a long novel but one so well devised and plotted that it rattles along compellingly. It is full of horrors, yet at the same time the characterization and the authors' mastery of pace means that you are likely to read it very happily at the gallop. I found it thoroughly enjoyable, a fine piece of craftsmanship. It is well anchored, partly because the relationship between Raven, Sarah, and Raven's wife Eugenie is rooted in convincing reality, something rare in this kind of fiction, partly because even Raven, a worthy hero, has a dark and disturbing Past himself. That said, I did wonder if it was normal for a doctor to have a key which would admit him to the Scott Monument in a winter's night.
