This giant romper suit would never pass my fashion litmus test which is: "Would Anna Wintour wear this?" The chances of her owning a onesie, let alone wearing one, even in the privacy of her own home, are roughly in line with the chances of Ed Milliband joining the BNP. Probably even lower.
As a showbiz journalist one of the things that bored me senseless about the Games was the countless number of stuffy old curmudgeons praying it would finally wipe clean the smear on British culture - the dreaded obsession with celebrity.
Five days a week, 52 weeks a year, the hard-working commuters of Essex flood into London's financial Square Mile and the towers of Canary Wharf to help keep the wheels of the British economy turning. Let me put it this way: Essex is a county of entrepreneurs, risk takers and dreamers.
Despite its mega-success, knocking shows like TOWIE - and the people who appear in them - has become a national pastime. The problem is, despite a stereotype fuelled by years of Essex Girl jokes, we're not all uneducated idiots, no matter what the critics might think.
I believe most people would like to have a taste of fame, and I am guilty as charged to that crime, but I would like to be recognised for my writing ability and not for appearing on Prancing On Ice as a failed X Factor contestant who once slept with a footballer.
We're all probably getting sick of hearing about breast implants, but they are big news right now, pardon the pun. The Only Way Is Essex star Lauren Pope is understandably upset about having the potentially dangerous PIP implants.
Tired of the car crash tv 'reality' shows? Are you screaming at your TV sets when the best philosophical questions between two people are whether th...
Judging by its opening gambit, Scousewives clings safely to the template laid down by its southern cousins in Essex and Chelsea, opening with a conformist series of oddly stunted conversational scenes resembling the awkward preliminary stages of a porn film, and concluding with some party or function to usher in the histrionics.
It did seem a bit mad though to pack everything up myself and just as I was thinking how on earth I would manage this myself, I bumped into some of the mums from my daughter's old school at our local Co-op and after telling them about my cacao butter sorrows, they immediately offered to come and help. So the next Monday morning three mad mums, armed with a digital radio, hammer, chisel, hair nets and gloves were ready to rock and pack!
As every magazine editor knows, if you combine a life crisis - and they don't come much better than a sham divorce coupled with the potential ruin of your media empire - with potential weight loss or weight gain, you've got headline GOLD.
When I was growing up, the celebrities I looked up to were actors and musicians. They were people who had sacrificed normal lives and showed up on red carpets looking glamorous.
Michelle Obama! Your long wait for fame and recognition might be over. On a recent episode of Daybreak, Veteran neurotic and film director Woody Allen revealed that he's not averse to offering the First Lady her big break.
This week I asked seven of Britain's foremost media go-getters to choose between television's current top reality shows. Unfortunately they were busy. But these hacks had some spare time to share their opinions instead.
Thanks to Twitter, and Hitler, there is now such a thing as bad publicity. And so the job of the publicist becomes a delicate balancing act, where they heroically endeavour to keep their charges in the public eye.
Geordie Shore is but the latest in a long line of televised regional case studies showing how crap the world is. As propagating cartoonish stereotypes for cynical commercial gain is worth mega bucks these days, small wonder MTV are milking their Newcastle cash cows for all they're worth by sending them to Magaluf.
For me, it was Miss Piggy that started it. The "eyelash effect". The way she used to flutter those lashes at Kermit. I was hooked.