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.

We'll take a cup of kindness

Well, this is it. The final post of 2010. And what a year it's been. I hope this series of memory joggers has helped you reflect on the ups and downs of the last 12 months, and that not all the memories gave you a headache.

George Bush had his own troubling moment of reflection in November as he reflected on his eight years in the Oval Office. Strangely, it wasn't the economic meltdown, Hurricane Katrina, 9/11, an illegal war, corporate corruption or dubious election results that caused him sleepless nights. It was being called names by Kanye West. Still, at least he has a newfound empathy for Taylor Swift.

Speaking of music, Katy Perry, P!nk, Ke$ha and Lady Gaga plucked their pens from behind their ears and scribbled some inspiring songs to show their support for their gay fans. One person who was unable to contribute to this musical outpouring was Michael Jackson, although that didn't stop his canny record label from cobbling together an album from recordings of the King of Pop clearing his throat and practicing his scales.

Nadine Coyle also released her long-awaited debut album, but only on the shelves of Tesco. As a result, she shifted fewer units than a warehouse worker on long-term sick leave. Poor promotion was blamed for the project's failure, but ultimately, it came down to what her bandmate Cheryl repeatedly refers to as 'the likeability factor'. In that she didn't have any.

The celebrities were also out in force this November - another bunch of desperate 'stewing steak' stars tried to convince us they were still fillet, by gobbling down all manner of marsupial genitals in the Australian jungle. Hungry fans were also able to join in the fun of the Bushtucker Trial this time, thanks to the release of witchetty grub chocolates.

If you prefer your celebreality entertainment with fewer dry-heaving scenes, you could have tuned into Celebrity Coach Trip - a remarkable show which stretched the concept of celebrity to its illogical conclusion. Forget about BAFTAs, what everyone needed to see was Barry Chuckle sharing a beer bath with Ingrid Tarrant.

The Daily Mail continued its war on logic, tolerance and professional journalism, by writing an article warning its white readership that they're just fifty years away from being a minority. Less politically minded readers had to content themselves with a remarkable story investigating the science of celebrity. Its stunning conclusion: famous people mix with other famous people in expensive place. Mystery solved. There were also some handy hints on how to buy your wife the perfect Christmas gift. If you missed this incisive piece, here's the summary - listen.

The recession maintained its icy grip on the wallets of the nation, so David Cameron commissioned the Office of National Statistics to conduct a survey assessing how happy we all are. It's just a shame no-one has found a way to measure the happiness of Britain's turkeys, who had good reason to celebrate on Thanksgiving (for once) when Bernard Matthew finally bit the big Golden Drummer.

The True Clean Towel was also made available, promising to put a smile (and nothing else) on the faces of anyone with a phobia of letting their damp parts touch. The surprisingly graphic ad shocked and amused in equal measure, although if anyone does want a pair of balls rubbing in their face, I can recommend a number of clubs.

Finally, November was a month of shocking revelations, as Michael Moore received a long-awaited apology, Tomasz Schafernaker showed his casual side, and Hobbits were uncovered as a bunch of undersized white supremacists.

Which, rather neatly, brings us to December. As five inches of snow managed to bring the whole country to a standstill, we found ourselves under house arrest, much like Julian Assange. The Australian journalist was eventually released on bail to await extradition, having ironically found himself on the receiving end of a tactical intelligence leak.

Bernie Ecclestone showed his battered features in an ad for Hublot watches, making it the desirable timepiece for anyone who wants to be beaten and robbed in the street. In contrast, Nike became a much less desirable brand when the shoe manufacturer decided to sue a guy who mistakenly bought a fake pair of shoes on the internet.

A school in Memphis waged war on low-slung denim, by creating a wall of shame for slouchy students revealing a little too much underwear. And Disney tried to help out the kids by bringing in Britney Spears to teach the next generation of child stars about how to handle the pressures of fame. Which was a little like asking Katie Price for advice on getting the 'natural look'.

We endured the finals of the X-Factor and The Apprentice, both of which ended rather predictably, with winners that most viewers had picked out in the first couple of weeks. However, both shows did give us some fantastically entertaining highlights, thanks to the most objectionable contestants since Goebbels and Goering appeared on Double Dare with Peter Simon.

So here we are. It's December 31st, the Prosecco's chilling in the fridge, and many of my work colleagues are shivering in the cold by the banks of the Thames, waiting to trigger the fireworks. Whoever and wherever you are, I'd like to wish you a Happy New Year and thank you for spending some of your time on this blog. I hope you'll be back again in 2011.

Now, to play us out, here's a mash-up of 25 of the biggest hits of the year, courtesy of DJ Earworm (Warning: may contain traces of Ke$ha)...

Do it yourself

It's almost as if the world has actually stopped spinning. There is literally no news about anything. So what's a blogger to do?

I could try and write about Katie Price driving her hot-pink horsebox in a reckless manner. But would that really come as any surprise?

How about covering Pete Doherty's arrest over cocaine possession? That's like the Pope being arrested for wearing robes.

Oooh, hang on a minute. Lord Sugar has announced that the new Apprentice hopefuls are all 'credible'. Nope, can't really do anything with that either. They're all likely to be slick of hair, loud of mouth and wide of tie.

This is the problem with writing a daily blog - you're dependent on interesting or surprising things happening. Without them, it's just a random selection of words with little or no reason for being.

Since the celebrities of the world are unwilling to cooperate today, here's a 'build your own p0pvulture' - simply choose your own elements and chuckle away.

First, pick a name:

Katie Price, Amy Winehouse, Paris Hilton, Liz Jones, David Hasselhoff, Simon Cowell, Susan Boyle, Angelina Jolie, Demi Moore, Madonna, Jan Moir, Ann Coulter, Beth Ditto, Lady Gaga, Christina Hendricks, Louis Walsh, Posh Spice, Cheryl Cole, David Beckham.

Now choose a news item:

Cheating, smuggling, whoring, snorting, lying, quoting, slamming, driving, drinking, drinking and driving, adopting, bitching, Tweeting, auditioning, interviewing, singing, judging.

Kick off your sentences with a few loose conjunctions:

However, given that, on the other hand, with this in mind, nonetheless, it's funny, surprisingly, unsurprisingly, predictably, with, but and although.

Then finally throw in a few similes, a little alliteration and a couple of snippy remarks at the end of every other paragraph.

It's that easy. Let me know how you get on. And if you have any ideas for new posts, please let your blogger know...

p0pvulture comes of age

Well, it's finally here - the 500th post. When I started this blog it was an experiment to see if I had the discipline to write something every day. And, with the exception of a few days where work or excessive alcohol consumption got in the way, I've managed to stick to my guns.

Of course, I probably wouldn't have bothered, were it not for the comments and encouragement I've received from all the people who, for whatever reason, have clicked on a link somewhere and spent a few minutes with p0pvulture. So thanks to everyone who stopped by, I hope you'll continue to frequent this grubby little corner of the interweb.

I've been trying to think about what today's post should be about. As usual it's something of a slow news day. Kerry Katona's been out and about in a pair of leggings, the youngest Kardashian sister is causing a stir with a sexy, jailbait photoshoot and Lady Gaga's on the front of Vanity Fair alongside some utterly nonsensical headlines that look as though they were written by an 'English as a second language' student. All gripping stuff, I'm sure you'll agree.

But in keeping with the whole "I'd like to thank..." Oscar speech tone of this post, I thought I'd give a few shout-outs to the great sources of information that inspire the stories on here. People often ask where I find 'this stuff', so consider this a peek behind the scenes. I shamelessly use their content in writing the blog (although I always post links to the original stories) but I thought it was worth mentioning them by name. You might even become a regular reader of some of them.

DListed is a snarky, sarcy and hilarious blog by Michael K who, as well as being one of the funniest people I've ever read, is also a bit of a cutie. He's created a whole 'slanguage' of his own, and managed to rename virtually every pointless celebrity that ever managed to score a feature in People Magazine. With countless new stories uploaded every day, he's such a prolific writer that he makes James Patterson look like JD Salinger.

Towleroad is another gay blog, but with less emphasis on bitchy putdowns and more focus on political issues around the world. It's well written, authoritative and the worthy winner of several blogger awards. Great links to all sorts of other content as well, the phrase 'you read it here first' could have been coined by Andy Towle, the site's creator.

Holy Moly (which most of you will already know) started out as an illustrated alternative to Popbitch, featuring blind items, idiotic celebrity quotes and random weirdness. It's now more like the bastard offspring of Perez Hilton and Heat Magazine - no bad thing in itself. Its readers (or at least the ones who comment on the stories) seem to be a fairly misanthropic bunch, wishing all kinds of ill-harm on the celebrities they enjoy reading about. But the copy is always funny, and they seem to get their hands on the paparazzi pictures before anyone else.

Of course, I have to also mention the Daily Mail which proudly flies the flag for bitter, acrimonious, poorly researched journalism. My distatste for the Mail, and everything it stands for, is no surprise to anyone who's spent more than five minutes reading this blog. People often ask why I read its website if I hate it so much - isn't that like repeatedly sticking my head in the oven to see if the gas is still on? Firstly, the Mail does a great job of aggregating the celebrity stories from around the world, even if it does maintain a toxic level of disdain for everyone that isn't Jerry Hall or Joan Collins. Secondly, its editorial style, and outspoken columnists mean that there's always an argument ripe for picking.

Big Hollywood is another resource that's as much an irritant as it is an information source. Established by right wing publisher Andrew Breitbart, the site was intended to offer a voice to conservatives working in the movie industry who feel underrepresented and excluded. In fact, it's a place where reactionary writers and woefully unfunny (we're talking Russ Abbot-levels of humourlessness) comedians come to pour scorn on anything involving the environment, feminism, racial equality, gay rights or non-Christian beliefs. The comments section under each post are worth a look, if only to see how widespread a problem mental instability seems to be in the US.

OK, that's enough negativity. Let's also give thanks for Digital Spy, which is the UK's fourth largest British entertainment website, with over two million unique users. It covers pretty much anything that happens in the world of celebrity, and I do mean 'everything'. For instance, an average day might feature six different 'news' stories about Katie Price, one for every time she opens her mouth. Unfortunately, in the rush to break stories first, the site doesn't always check its sources - so many of its stories open with "it's rumoured that..." or "according to an insider..." As a consequence, Digital Spy has more retractions than a Stanley knife, given that approximately half its 'news' content involves someone repudiating a story that's already run.

A few honourable mentions should also go to chud.com (for interesting, if slightly 'fanboy' film news), AfterElton (gay and lesbian news blog, and a daily picture of men in their pants), Popjustice (the world's best pop music site) and E!Online (which is great for celebrity gossip, despite its unhealthy obsession with the Gosselins).

Writing 500 posts may have been hard work, but it's made immeasurably easier thanks to these great information sources. So thanks to them for the inspiration, and thanks to you for reading. Meet you back here for the 1000th...

Small but perfectly informed

Anna Wintour, fearsome editor of Vogue magazine, should be looking nervously over her shoulder right now. Because there's a thirteen year-old girl creeping up behind her, and she's not here to sell girl scout cookies.

This gawky, weird-looking 13 year-old is currently being touted as this season's fashion must-have, thanks to her hugely successful fashion blog 'Style Rookie'. While most of her contemporaries are still writing odes to their teddy bears and colour-coding the contents of their pencil case, Tavi Gevinson is sharing her opinions on what's hot and what's not. And the fashion world, never the easiest clique to penetrate, is sitting up and taking notice.

Looking like the dorky best friend in the flashback scenes of your standard chick flick, this curiously self-possessed tween has been spending the last few days gracing the front row of New York Fashion Week. It doesn't seem to matter that her bold fashion ensembles remind most people of a child raiding her mother's closet while her parents are out, she's scoring over 1.5 million hits a month and counting.

Although some of her posts show an awareness beyond her years, not all of them are well composed thought-pieces. Her review of Marc Jacobs' Monday night show read:

MAAAAAAARRRRRRRCCCCCCCC
What. an. insane. night.
Like I said before, the real review in which I articulate will be at my Pop blog, but for now?
KJWRHGAROIGREIYT598YTUREIGJFVKDSNVLKFDSNVKJFDHKDFNBLKFD

Similarly, much of the extensive photography that features on her blog resembles the kind of images usually captured when the lens cap is accidentally left off and the camera gets sat on.

Nonetheless, she's bold, confident and successful, even if she still needs to ask for a grown-up's help when using scissors. And I can't help but have a grudging respect for any teenager willing to leave the house looking like an Amish child with a pair of superhero's underpants stuck to her head.

If anyone's going to lead the way in fashion industry, it may as well be a pencil-thin 13 year-old. After all, she's one of the few people left who'd be able to fit into any of the fashion houses' increasingly unrealistic samples.