Cards on the table, I’m not totally clear about who the Kardashians are.
I mean, I sort of know. I know that Kim has the biggest bottom on the planet, a great dome somewhere in size between St Paul’s Cathedral and the Taj Mahal, and that’s now a good thing – as confusing as that is to someone who was brought up by Jackie magazine to believe that any visible sign of bum was a thing of flaming shame.
Also, since watching that drama about OJ Simpson I have managed to peg the Kardashians as the children of a lawyer who was involved in his defence when he was tried for a double murder.
How Kim and her clan got from there to breaking the internet I’m not really sure – and I know this makes me sound a bit like one of those old court judges who used to ask: “Who are the Beatles?” or Dame Maggie Smith in Downton Abbey asking: “What’s a weekend?”.
But there it is. I lack what I lack. Can’t help it.
But since that robbery in Paris I have learned something more: Kim carts quantities of jewellery about with her, stuff that has a gasp-inducing value. Trinkets worth multi-millions.
And jewellery is always interesting, don’t you think? It’s so unnecessary, it fulfills none of our basic needs for food, warmth and shelter, and yet since the first humans grunted at each other across the cave floor we have always adorned ourselves with it.
In museums I’m all about the bracelets. I invariably head for the bit where the ancient jewellery is, wondering if the shop does a replica of the best pieces – shallow to the bone, that’s me.
But mostly I like costume jewellery, you know the fake stuff that’s made out of plastic and is shiny, cheap and a riot of colour.
Stay with me. Costume jewellery, not bearing the burden of being made of expensive materials, can be beautiful, clever and flashily fun. People collect it and everything.
The other stuff, made of gold and diamonds and precious metals, can be really dull by comparison. We don’t value it for its appearance but for how much it cost.
Who was Richard Burton trying to impress when he bought all those massive jewels for Elizabeth Taylor?
It might have been Liz, but I bet he also wanted his pals to know he could afford bigger baubles than they could.
Expensive jewels are full of awful significance too.
Any famous woman whose relationship is rocky has her hands photographed every time she leaves the house to see if she is still wearing the wedding and engagement rings. It’s happening to Zoe Ball right now.
And anyway I don’t believe any of that guff about diamonds being a girl’s best friend. If you’ve got money get yourself an ISA, I say. Not nearly as flashy but at least you know where you are – and no one’s going to rip an ISA off your finger in the middle of the night.
Plus, what they don’t tell you when the diamond is slipped on your young, unlined hand is that one day your diamond will be crammed onto a much older digit, wrinkled, gnarled, puffy and not so much of an attractive backdrop. That doesn’t happen with an ISA either. Just putting that out there.
Anyway, the whole world – even me – now knows that Kim has been posing with a diamond as big as a gobstopper on her finger, bought as an engagement ring by hubbie Kanye.
She has been inordinately fond of flashing it all over social media, it turns out. And now she has paid the price.
I’d never make a robber, if I had ever seen Kim’s rock before the French heist I would have assumed it was a fake, having temporarily forgotten the wise words of the wonderful Dolly Parton: “It costs a lot of money to look this cheap.”
It doesn’t have to though. Kim could have saved herself a deal of trouble and stuck with the costume jewellery. She would have looked just as cheap, and also managed a good night’s sleep in Paris.
THE TRUTH ABOUT SPECS
Thrilling news! all those American movies, turns out they were on to something.
You know the ones: the heroine is the mainstay of the public library, she is as prim as can be, she is studious and she is lonely – but then she lets down her hair, whips off her glasses, and suddenly she is beautiful.
Glasses. In Hollywood, they are one of the clearest signals there is that a woman has brains. And men too, to be fair. The woman in her feline frames, the man in his horn-rimmed spectacles, they’re an old movie staple.
If we lived by Hollywood rules, it would not be possible to be intelligent and specs-free.
And this turns out to be not a complete load of old tosh.
Researchers in Germany gave three and a half thousand people sight and intelligence tests, and the ones who needed specs turned out to be brainier.
In the interests of fairness and honesty I have to tell you that these brainier people turned out to have been better educated, and better-educated people go on to do activities that involve a lot of reading.
But this does not ruin the Hollywood stereotype at all, it just means that all those old grannies – yeah, I’m thinking of you, Grandma D – who once told children not to read so much because it would ruin their eyes, could have been on to something.
Don’t you just love it when a stereotype comes true?
LET WILLIAM BE NICE AND COMFY
Poor old Prince William. He copes so well with the way Kate grabs all the attention.
So much better than his own father coped with our obsession with Diana.
Charles used to get all sulky and stroppy that no one wanted to shower him with love and flowers on those walkabouts.
William isn’t bothered. He just looks a bit shy and a bit proud of his wife, and it is all very endearing.
So I think it’s rotten of the royal advisors to decide he needs a makeover so that he matches Kate in the style stakes, or rather so he isn’t quite as much of a mismatch.
William is being dragged out of his trainers and his slacks, and his comfy brown shoes and suit jackets and put into a natty desert boot and a slim-fitting trouser.
It really shouldn’t be done. No one is looking at William anymore. Let him at least be comfy.