Brand Beckham, Tara Palmer-Tomkinson and Campari: Things of the week


This week I mostly...

...found myself reminiscing, fondly, of my days as a law student. 

You do well to raise your lid in lieu of an eyebrow, ill-gotten 2:1. And don't worry, I won't be resuming my bi-annual visits to Glasgow University's law library any time soon.

Rather than deep-rooted vocational regret, I suspect this newfound nostalgia was prompted by:

a) my several-episode-a-day Good Wife Netflix habit b) all kinds of kick-ass judgery going down over in the US

I shall dig out the nearest weighty volume of 2006/7 tax law and allow my true feelings to re-emerge.

Shortened odds of the week

Difficult times for Brand Beckham. As David's squeaky-ish clean reputation (then: ‘softly-spoken; grammatically-challenged’) sinks under a wave of tabloid mudslinging (now: ‘craves knighthood; swears at publicists'), Victoria has taken to swooping about New York in an ominous range of blood red jumpers and nail-heeled boots.

It’s the uniform of a woman considering all kinds of unpalatable options. A woman painfully aware that her concrete-fronted fashion empire isn’t all that financially viable sans-internationally marketable husband.


Victoria's bejewelled if mothballed mic still finds itself a good way down the list - well after ‘get Cruz on I’m A Celebrity’ and ‘Coming to America Part II’ - but a five-piece Spice Girls reunion just went from ‘In Mel B's dreams’ to ‘A Mel C recurring nightmare’ for the first time since Geri’s X Factor guest judge flameout in 2012.

Alternative fact of the week

Fergie's London Bridge. The best single of 2006?

In hindsight: YES.

Even more enjoyable than the unintelligible middle eight? The bizarre spoken word outro from two 100%-not-hired-and-actually-LA-based London 'bruvs'.

*adds to gym playlist*

Glaring obituary omission of the week

Tara Palmer-Tomkinson’s untimely death hit me surprisingly hard.

While most media outlets chose to reminisce, variously, about snorkels, cocaine, ghost-written columns and Prince Charles, I headed straight to YouTube for evidence of that little-remembered 2007 TRIUMPH - beating 'Tricia Penrose' from Eastenders and Colin Murray off 'football' to whatever it was you won for winning Comic Relief Does Fame Academy.

Tara. Fame Academy. Both highly watchable, terrific fun, and gone before their time. RIP.

Quote of the week

[unbearable screeching]
— Our friendly neighbourhood foxes, most of Friday night

This week I was mostly having...


...the fuck off, february

  • 1 x dash Campari
  • Prosecco
  • Seasonal Affective Disorder self-diagnosis

After pouring one's customary pick-me-up on a Sunday morning, take a moment to take stock of your surroundings.

Mottled grey. Everything. Sky, pavement, contents of fridge, skin under eyes. And February's not even halfway done yet? Fuck it all to hell.

Steady one's shaking, shrivelled, frost-bitten hand. The answer is simple: Campari.

What will add a splash of colour to this listlessly fizzing prosecco? Campari. What can bring some joy back to your miserable, wind-blasted visage? Campari. What's that on your breath? Campari? Woah there, steady on.

Add a dash - that's right, and a second for luck - to your prosecco. Now raise your glass: a metaphorical middle-finger to this most useless of months.

Drink, defiantly.

Two more weeks to go.

More things of weeks