Diary entry for Monday, 25th June 2007
It seems that the world of celebrity has never been in better shape. As I write these very words, little skinny Victoria (Beckham, by marriage) is running to the bank with a little windfall gained from Star Magazine. (Sorry, it is a Google cached page as they are off-line at moment)
It appears that the ignoble tome published some article where a crew member mumbled that VB could be “full of herself and not very nice.” Now, although all of us at one time or another have probably suffered far worse slurs than this, when you are such a little wall flower, like our Victoria, these comments really cut to the core.
It is all that thing about image, I suppose. It has become frightenly important in society these days. Time was that image was all about who your father or mother was. Riches were not so much earned as passed on, and the magazines were respecting of the people that filled their pages, and therefore justified the cover price.
Mind you, most celebrities of that time did hunt on a weekend, and magazine editors were all too aware that there is a fine line between guest and prey, if you get my drift.
Of course, times have changed, and it is now the celebrities who are wary of the editors. This is fine for those who have come from nowhere to fill that job vacancy of “being famous.” But for those born to it, it has become most tiresome. Many of the traditional celebrity families have gone into business, shoved the stately pile into the trusting hands of The Trust or English Heritage, and are far more likely to be found parking their Yacht in lesser know ports like Puerto Andrax than getting fleeced by the paparazzi outside of some club. Not all succeed, though. One royal prince has made a couple of errs in that direction and as for certain Heiresses, especially to hotel chains, well, this is what happens when the parents have no notion as to when and how to debut their daughter. She ends up doing it herself all over the internet!
Back to Little Mrs Beckham, I can’t really see her causing over much trouble, except if she got panicky. Many years ago, when the Spice Girls first launched their debut single, they came into the studio to record a syndicated radio interview. While they were there, we also asked them to record some A Cappella little idents for various DJs – the resulting flattery would help get the interview played. A little wobbly on their platform heels, they did an okay job – nothing so bad that a bit of reverberation wouldn’t sort out. And since Mel B had been performing in Cabaret in Blackpool for several years already, I kept her voice strongly out the front.
As for Victoria, however, initially I thought she hadn’t been singing the level was so low. But a little fiddling and I realised she was there – bless her, but I think the girl was nervous.
Remember, these were early days for this lot, and despite their brashness and bravado, and desperately trying to live up to the “girl power” image their management had dreamed up for them, they hadn’t yet come across many knackered old sound engineers like me, who tended to keep proceedings going at an almighty pace, and has an unfortunately good ear and hatred of using Auto Tune.
They did okay in the end. None of them are stunning singers or musicians or actresses or beauties or anything else really. But together they were a bit of fun – and sometimes that is all that is needed.
So, Little Victoria, go and bank the money and tell the nasty little magazine to go and stick it’s head in a bucket!
Nobody
