How the other half lives

Oscar winner, singer, wife, mother, and now celebrated blogger, Gwyneth Paltrow certainly knows how to keep herself busy. Apart from a guest appearance on Glee and a turn in new movie Country Strong, she's been keeping a fairly low profile the last couple of years. Which has given her time to focus on her babies, Apple, Moses and Goop. I know, it's hard to decide which is the oddest name.

But of course I jest. Anyone who's ever spent more than five minutes on the internet knows that little Goop isn't a toddler, but Gwyneth's lifestyle newsletter. A regularly updated, ongoing response to that staple 'Hello' magazine question - "Gwyneth, how do you juggle your hectic lifestyle with your home life".

If you haven't read Goop, I suggest you bookmark it right now. Because if you've ever felt like you let that handsome millionaire slip through the net, or cursed the drudgery of your subsistence-level existence, Goop will quickly remind you that you're not missing much.

Sure, while the rest of us are content to play the 'fantasy dinner party' game (compile your dream guest list of famous people) Gwyneth gets to do it for real, rustling up a tofu and nut loaf for Stella and Kate. But Goop also offers a disturbing insight into the realities of life on the A-List.

In a recent post, Gwyneth decided to share an average day with her loyal readers, and in doing so opened herself up to a relentless parade of abuse. Whether it's the 'ERROR 8' message on her coffee machine, the 'lemon flavored flax oil' she gives her kids every day, or her 'fitting with super stylist Elizabeth Saltzman', Gwyneth's existence couldn't be more removed from the average working mother's life. Out of touch? Like trying to read Braille in woolly mittens.

There's nothing wrong with a little aspirational living, it's a principle on which most magazines were founded. Everyone enjoys looking at pieces of occasional furniture that cost the same as a family car. Deep down, we know that we're simply indulging in a harmless flight of fancy.

The problem with Goop is that Gwyneth seems to think her excel spreadsheet, home-made cupcakes and vocal exercises existence is entirely attainable for the average housewife. You know, the woman who gets halfway round the supermarket before she even realises she's wearing her sweater inside out. She's more concerned with finding her car keys than baking gluten-free muffins and practicing her pelvic-floor exercises.

It's hardly surprising that half of Goop's impressive readership only seem to visit the site for something ridiculous to laugh at - after all, it makes The Lady look like Bella. Interestingly, displaying an out-of-character level of self-awareness, Gwyneth knows only too well how much of her lifestyle guidance falls on deaf or indifferent ears.

Although she established Goop to help readers "nourish the inner aspect" of their lives, she's been shocked by the level of vitriol she's inspired. This month, she tells readers of Harpers Bazaar (perhaps ASDA Magazine couldn't find the space for an article), "There were a couple of times when I thought 'I'm just gonna stop doing it'. People are so mean to me. I don't want to do it. But then I was like, 'Who cares what some lame person out there says?'"

Admittedly, Gwyneth is displaying a thicker skin here than many of us gave her credit for. Those kelp and quinoa facials must be working wonders. But I can't help wondering whether she has the same supercilious view of anyone who can't find the time for radio interviews and a trip to Morocco to buy scatter cushions in between the school runs.

What a load of Bullocks

Think of a famous Oscar speech. Chances are, you're picturing Gwyneth Paltrow's meltdown, Sally Field's "You like me, you really like me..." or Halle Berry's sobbing self-love. To be honest, after seeing one Hollywood diva dissolve into snot and tears, they all become a little interchangeable.

So it was nice to see Sandra Bullock hoisting the little gold fella last night and managing to crack a few jokes while she was up there. Delivering what most people considered to be the best speech of an otherwise rather dull evening, Sandra started by asking "Did I really earn this, or did I wear you all down?"

Rather than talking about herself, Sandra kept the orchestra at bay by gushing about the other actresses in her category and thanked her parents for "reminding her daughters that there's no race, no religion, no class system, no color, no sexual orientation that makes us better than anyone else. We are all deserving of love."

It's hardly surprising that she handled herself so well - she's certainly had plenty of practice in the last couple of months. As The Blind Side marched inexorably towards quarter of a billion dollars at the box office, Sandra kept herself busy picking up every award that was going for her portrayal of Leigh Anne Tuohy, who took in a homeless young man and nurtured him to football stardom.

But although her mantelpiece may be straining like Chris Moyles when he has to take the stairs, not all of Sandra's awards worthy of pride. Just 24 hours before her moment of glory in the Kodak theatre, Sandra was on stage in the Barnsdall Gallery Theatre, to collect a Golden Raspberry for her performance in All About Steve.

It's very rare for a Razzie winner to turn up in person, even more so when the lucky recipient is hot favourite to win the Oscar a day later. In fact, Sandra's double win is an industry first that's almost as monumental as Katherine Bigelow's landmark victory as the Academy's inaugural female winner for best director.

Ever the joker, Sandra rocked up to the Razzies hauling a cart full of All About Steve DVDs which she kindly distributed to every person in the audience. The key, of course, lies in never taking yourself too seriously. Although her role in The Blind Side was one of Sandra's few excursions into 'serious drama' - she's ensured that people will remember her for being self-deprecating rather than self-absorbed.

Not everyone was quite so impressed with Bullock's moment of victory. A number of comments posted on sites like Huffington Post have sniffily derided her long-standing popularity as a reason why she was a less than worthy winner. With several people comparing Sandra's Oscar to the one Julia Roberts won for Erin Brockovitch, the mentality seems to suggest that films can either be art or commerce - never both.

To put it simply, the less seen a film is, the more worthy it is of accolades.

When 'Oscar' rewards big, successful movies, he's accused of selling out. Conversely, when he hands out gongs to movies that nobody saw, he's condemned for being out-of-touch with movie audiences.

Unlike Sandra, I guess some people just can't win.

Girls just wanna claw each other's eyes out

If the papers are to be believed (note to self: never believe the papers), there's trouble brewing on the set of Iron Man 2. According to reports, which amount to little more than tip-offs from anonymous sources keen to make a quick buck, Gwyneth Paltrow hasn't exactly rolled out the yoga mat for franchise newcomer Scarlett Johansson.

Having played improbably-named love interest Pepper Potts in the first film, Paltrow was probably expecting a beefed-up role in the sequel. Instead, it seems that Gwyneth is seeing red about Scarlett, who's onboard to play Black Widow, a Russian spy, in the big-budget follow-up.

Speculative stories have been hitting the web for a couple of months now, suggesting that Paltrow and Johansson are at loggerheads. Strangely, one report even went so far as to suggest that Gwyneth was trying to physically 'deflate' Scarlett by sharing her personal trainer and doing daily workouts together. Sharing and togetherness - hardly the first signs of a woman gripped with insane jealousy.

In typically nonsensical style, the Daily Mail once again manages to state 'fact' and then negate it within a couple of paragraphs, by saying that Gwyneth is planning to boycott a promotion in San Diego later this month, only to then quote a spokesman who rubbishes the entire story.

But there's no smoke without fire, or so says conventional wisdom. The problem is, stories like this tend to emerge whenever successful women come together.

There was the rivalry between Sharon Osbourne and Dannii Minogue on The X-Factor, and then, when the Wicked Witch of the West (coast) left, the rivalry passed on to new judge Cheryl Cole. The Sex and the City movie was almost a no-go due to the supposed in-fighting between Kim Catrall and Sarah Jessica Parker, and even when the movie was finished the rumours persisted, over ridiculous details like who stood where on a photoshoot. And who can forget the time when All Saints broke up over a jacket that Shaznay and Natalie both wanted to wear at a Capital FM Christmas concert?

The funny thing is, these exposés never seem to surface about male stars. Were the papers full of made-up stories about George Clooney and Brad Pitt battling over who stood where on the Ocean's 11 poster, or punch-ups between Shane and Kian in Westlife?

There's a fundamental misogyny at the heart of all this, that weakens the position of every one of these women each time these rumours are presented as fact. And once again, it means that they have to work twice as hard, and keep their noses twice as clean, just to be treated as equals.

Weirdly enough, Gwyneth herself may have put her finger on it when talking about the clash between Pepper Potts and the Black Widow in the plot of Iron Man 2: "The men want it to be, like, 'Ooh, the girls are fighting over Tony,' but it's not as standard as that. There's a weird male catfight fantasy."