After a week of otherwise relentlessly depressing headlines, some encouraging news at last – well, for overweight white middle-aged men, and general gammons, that is.
Jeremy Clarkson has been voted sexiest man in the UK and Ireland, beating the likes of Idris Elba and Cillian ‘cheekbones’ Murphy.
Many have expressed consternation, including myself. I’ve encountered Jeremy Clarkson a few times, and ‘sexy’ is not the term that springs to mind. ‘Rude’, ‘shouty’ and ‘a bit drunk’ would be nearer the mark.
Jeremy Clarkson has been voted sexiest man in the UK and Ireland, beating the likes of Idris Elba and Cillian ‘cheekbones’ Murphy
Once, we were at the same party and for some reason he mistook me for a waitress (possibly as I was helping the host with the cooking) and before I could utter a word he waved his empty wine glass at me demanding a refill, which I meekly provided.
Curiously, my daughter was temping a few years ago and found herself serving Clarkson’s table at a corporate event. He was, she recalls, equally abrasive.
SO maybe his appeal palls slightly up close, or maybe we were both immune to his charms. Still, from a distance at least there’s no denying he has a certain swagger. And women love a bit of swagger.
In a world of smooth-chested, preening man-babies who spend more time on skincare than most teenage girls and who wouldn’t know how to change a tyre if their life depended on it, Clarkson is an old-school m-a-n, in the Muddy Waters sense of the word.
Indeed, in many ways he’s the acceptable face of toxic masculinity. The proof is what he said about the Duchess of Sussex in a newspaper column in 2022. He wrote that he was ‘dreaming of the day when [Meghan] is made to parade naked through the streets of every town in Britain while crowds chant, “Shame!” and throw lumps of excrement at her’.
He later explained that he had been thinking of a scene in Game Of Thrones – but had written the column in a hurry and forgot to mention the TV series. (Even the rakish quality of that excuse is pure Clarkson.)
Still, he had provoked an enraged response from those who, very reasonably, felt he had gone too far. A record 25,000 people complained to the newspaper industry regulator, which ruled that the imagery was ‘humiliating and degrading towards the Duchess’. Clarkson apologised and the paper removed the article from its website.
But if it had been anyone else, the matter wouldn’t have ended there, as it miraculously did. People have been cancelled for far less, yet somehow Clarkson has not only survived, he’s thrived. His Amazon Prime show, Clarkson’s Farm, is a ratings-buster. And rightly so: it’s hugely entertaining – he is hugely entertaining, warts and all.
It’s not just his personality but his ability to get up the noses of the self-regarding and the smug, in particular the council planning committee that makes decisions about his Diddly Squat Farm.
Yet there’s also a kindness and generosity at Clarkson’s core that shines through. And he never hesitates to take the mickey out of himself and his own absurdities – another commendable quality.
This very lack of gloss and many imperfections make him attractive. He represents a subversiveness all too lacking in modern life.
It’s similar to the way many Americans adore Donald Trump, despite his many misdemeanours and generally appalling behaviour, and also to the enduring appeal of our one-time PM, Boris Johnson.
Shambolic, poorly dressed ramshackle rogues, the lot of them – but strangely loveable. Their flaws are an element of what makes them so appealing, in part perhaps because they reflect our own shortcomings, but also because there’s an authenticity that’s refreshing in a world of artifice.
And also, let’s face it, they are anything but dull.
People such as Clarkson are the perfect antidote to the prevailing culture of po-faced, finger-waggy humourlessness, where no one ever says what they really think and we’re all encouraged to agree that two plus two equals five, just as long as it ticks all the right boxes.
Jeremy Clarkson is that rare thing, a full-throated blast of steak and port-induced vigour in the face of life’s anaemic kale salad.
And that, I’m afraid, is why women find him sexy – and why, ultimately, they would rather go on a date with someone who looks like he’s just spent a week living in a badger sett with a grizzly bear than shiny little Tom Holland with his perfect six-pack.
OUR nation’s supposedly finest young minds support Hamas, with two out of three students at Russell Group universities saying they don’t regard the October 7 massacre as an act of terror and nearly four in ten seeing it as ‘an understandable act of resistance’. It’s mystifying how they champion an anti-Semitic death cult linked to Iran (a misogynistic, homophobic regime that tortures and kills its people) rather than mourn the kidnap, rape and torture of youngsters like themselves. But this is what happens when you get all your news from the BBC and TikTok.
My fears for Fiona
The Netflix drama Baby Reindeer, with its protagonist Martha (played by Jessica Gunning, right) subsequently outed by online sleuths as a woman called Fiona Harvey, deeply troubles me. Fiona is clearly completely unprepared for the spotlight. She reminds me of Susan Boyle, another vulnerable, slightly childlike Scottish woman who struggled with fame after success on Britain’s Got Talent. I hope Fiona has some sensible people around her.
Netflix’s drama Baby Reindeer’s central protagonist Martha has been outed by online sleuths as a woman called Fiona Harvey
I feel for Ant McPartlin’ ex-wife. Their marriage never resulted in children and now – aged 47 – it’s unlikely she’ll ever be a mother. Her ex, though, has just had a baby with his new wife and won’t stop talking about it on social media. Yes, it’s a cause for celebration but spare a thought for the woman who gave him the best and most fertile years of her life.
There’s no need to be so up front, Eva
I’M NOT convinced about the trend for navel-grazing necklines. For anyone flat-chested, like Emma Stone, they look rather odd – and for those with a fuller bust, like Eva Longoria, left, it’s all just a bit, well, in your face. In neither case particularly flattering or sexy.
Eva Longoria opted for a revealing neckline at the Kinds of Kindness red carpet at Cannes
Old CCTV footage has emerged of P Diddy (aka Sean Combs) allegedly attacking his then girlfriend, Cassie Ventura. He’s seen slapping her, hurling her across the floor before kicking her on the ground and dragging her down a hotel corridor. The rapper can’t be prosecuted because it was eight years ago, but there’s a special place in Hell for scumbags like him.
Rent cap scheme is fantasy
As Labour’s promised tax on private schools already drives parents from the independent sector (and is costing taxpayers an estimated £22million for extra state school places this academic year alone), Shadow Chancellor Rachel Reeves hasn’t ruled out another excellent wheeze: empowering councils to cap rents. This was tried in Scotland but simply led to landlords selling up.
The outcome would likely be similar in England, with fewer affordable rental properties. This sounds like the worst kind of fantasy Labour maths ever.
