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A recent article in the Mirror flashed across my screen this week and at first, it was tempting to just scroll past and mutter ‘k*k‘ as one usually does when reading tabloid headlines. It is after all not The New York Times, so very rarely do the headlines require anything more than a single-word expletive to summarize.

But the latest offering from Britain’s slimy newsfeeds made me pause.

‘Katie Price debuts new nose job, lips, and cheeks as she collects seized Range Rover’ might not be the kind of vibe you would bookmark for later reading, but fortunately for readers, we regularly drag the waters of international swamps to bring you the juiciest bits, or at least something palatable. Bear with me, and you won’t have to click on the link – unless you want your algorithm to resemble DecoDance’s bathroom floor at 2AM on a Friday night…on payday.

To make a long-drop short, the article waxed on about how Katie “headed to the car pound to collect her luxurious motor as she showed off the results of her latest round of cosmetic surgery”.

As ever, Katie oozed glamour as she arrived in a loose eye-catching zebra-print jumpsuit which she paired with some summer sliders as she modelled the relaxed outfit in the car park.

The plastic surgery veteran and mum-of-five wore her “brunette locks off her face as she slicked her hair back into a ponytail to show off the results of her new nose, lips, and fuller cheeks”.

If you still need to ask ‘What’s the big deal?’, please feel free to click the link and waterboard your algorithm now.

If I had to break my ire down to the size of a urinal cake, I would have to start by asking when it became fashionable for celebs to debut or flaunt their plastic surgery. It feels like just a few years ago that the objects of our adoration would be horrified at the accusation of a little tuck and tighten.  Like being gay in the army during the eighties, you kept it a secret to avoid ‘friendly’ fire. If it did bomb out a little, you just had to wait a decade or so for society to accept it before doing the next Bridget Jones Diary.

Katie Price has been shadowed by paparazzi since she set Page 3 of The Sun on fire in the late nineties, and she still manages to enthrall the UK people, so more power to her if she chooses surgery. My beef is after all not with plastic surgery or Katie, but with the mirror we hold up to celebs. What we want to see.

Katie Price looks unrecognisable in shocking pictures after bum lift, liposuction, eye and lip lifts https://t.co/MqZMjxhzf3 pic.twitter.com/pSZ3fY319w

— The Sun (@TheSun) July 4, 2021

The celeb-paparrazi relationship is complex and sometimes ventures into ‘life imitating art’ vibes. Youth and beauty get the roles, so in a way plastic surgery has become tools of the trade amongst celebs, so why be shy about it? How many hits did Chris Hemsworth get for his Thor training videos? Katie Price’s image is her Mjölnir, so no judgement for showing what it takes to live up to our ridiculous standards.

After her 16th breast augmentation – which doctors warned could kill her – she probably doesn’t give a hoot what tabloids have to say anyway. Perhaps then it’s more a reflection on news outlets than the sliced and spliced celebrities ‘debuting’ new noses, butts, cheeks, eyes, boyfriends, or adopted children.

The article (cow splat?) in question seems to take things a bit far in search of an ‘exclusive’. Whereas they see Katie “oozing glamour in a loose eye-catching zebra-print jumpsuit”, most normal people would see an irritated mom in a tracksuit.

Wearing her “brunette locks off her face as she slicked her hair back into a ponytail to show off the results of her new nose, lips, and fuller cheeks” makes the chore of collecting her impounded car seem like an arrival at the Met Gala.

It’s not, and I don’t think even Cindy Crawford could have successfully “modelled the relaxed outfit in the car park”. It’s a parking lot in front of a police impound. There’s chewed gum and a dead bird lying on the ground next to a dog turd that some thoughtless owner neglected to pick up.

As for Katie, she wasn’t debuting anything as much as trying to retrieve her car from the pound for the umpteenth time. Or maybe I am wrong, and her agent orchestrated the whole scene to ensure the British paparazzi would keep paying attention, but I doubt that as much as I doubt the debuting trend is the fault of celebs.

 

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A post shared by Katie Price (@katieprice)

Yes, we too like to fawn over the pretty and famous, but at least we know the difference between a runway and a parking lot. It’s a fine line and our toes do sometimes dip into the petri dish, but getting caught masturbating can never be spun as “debuting the pre-production process of your next erotic melodrama”.

Let Katie stomp through a parking lot with her ugly-ass pyjamas and still-tender face without glamourising it like Mugatu’s Derelicte Collection.

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We smell a Netflix musical.

[source:mirror]