Karen Fenessey
ANOTHER Mother’s Day passes and once again we all take a moment to remember that special woman who sums up the entire event: Jade Goody. But can I be the only one who absolutely insists we look more closely at the legacy she has bequeathed us?
No one would have believed that someone raised single-handedly (if you’ll pardon the pun) by a soap dodger would one day become a woman who wrote several pieces of literature. It is wonderful that our society offers a ladder to such wretches, allowing them to climb out of the gutter and up to the attic conversion of glamour and success.
But as we all know, ladders mean only one thing – snakes. And for me, the biggest snake now hissing at us from beyond the grave is the cervical cancer vaccination campaign, famously inspired by La Goody. Don't get me wrong: I think it's just super that we now offer vaccinations against it, and there's no doubt it will save the lives of thousands of women.
But what kind of women will they be?
Everyone knows what sort of behaviour leads to afflictions of the 'vaginal' area. What we've done is given the green light to battalions of already orange school girls to go out and repeatedly copulate with train conductors and weathermen. And nobody needs to see that.
The annoying thing is, girls like Jade always seem to get their way even though they use phrases like 'ain't never' and 'I've went'. Watching Celebrity Big Brother, I found myself identifying completely with Shilpa, even though I'm almost certainly not a Pakistani. Jade's poor diction was so redolent of my own school bully, Kelly-Jane Berry who made my life hell by saying my bag was from C&A, which in today's lexicon is the equivalent of calling someone a lesbian.
Like Jade, Kelly-Jane left school and became a sad and lonely non entity with nothing to do but get consistently pregnant. It seems the vaccinators, in their sick enthusiasm are determined to push today's young ladies into the same public house lavatory where Kelly-Jane conceived so many of her screeching tykes.
And so the woman who might one day have been your estate agent or acupuncturist will instead be scratching at her undercarriage in a working men's club and passing completely unsubstantiated judgement on where you bought your bag. Thank you Jade.
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How wonderful that David Cameron has thrown his wife onto the oratorical bandwagon currently careering around Westminster. He trusted her to be able to speak in front of an audience, and speak she did! In a world where France boasts the exquisite first lady, Carla Bruni and the exotic temptress, Michelle Obama currently slinks along the corridors of the Whitehouse, Britain could one day boast Sam Cam, the wordy Tory babe. Her proud expensively-educated breasts and big, horsey face are sure to inspire this summer’s look and I'm sure I won't be the only one sporting 'high birth chic' in my local All Bar One.
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What a shame Kate Winslet's marriage has hit the rocks. I must admit that when I tore my hamstring last summer I gained several pounds and for a moment it seemed my relationship might go the same way. What a relief I was back on my feet by August and my beloved and I are still going strong. Sadly, Kate's obesity is in her genes so I suspect she'll be spending August, and probably the rest of her life, on her own.
