Matthew Steeples bemoans an overused word
They’re everywhere: you’ll find them on magazine covers, on the television and at events. They stalk out the cameras, they behave badly and make utter fools of themselves. In fact, they’ll do just about anything to keep in the “media eye”. Allegedly, Lindsay’s one, Katie’s one and Justin’s one too. They’re forced upon us so much that they don’t even need surnames anymore. The “celebrity” is the force de rigueur and they and the word that describes them has spread like cheap margarine throughout the land.
At a book launch this week, a photographer I spoke with complained that he had become bored of tiresome and pointless individuals who consider themselves famous. The truly famous, instead, just want privacy. There are now, indeed, “celebrity stylists”, “celebrity chefs” and even our Prime Minister, David Cameron, has a “celebrity personal trainer”.
Fame used to be the reserve of the truly iconic. Frank Sinatra is, without doubt, deserving of the accolade, as are Marilyn Monroe, Michael Jackson and Madonna. The cast of The Only Way is Essex and Tulisa are not.
Please could someone just put the word “celebrity” back in its box?
