X+Y?=Zzz FACTOR

This week I interviewed X Factor winner Matt Cardle. While some of this year’s contestants have been hitting the headlines for all the wrong reasons last year’s winner, arguably the most talented male winner thus far has been honing his talent ahead of his first headline tour.

He’s set to release his third single next month and it’s a good’un. Cardle has co wrote the lion share of the album, something he says he was determined to do. It’s the first time that an Xfactor winner has been given the freedom to do so and it may well lead to Cardle bucking the trend set by previous winners of fading into relative oblivion after two hits, Steve Brookstein anyone?

The day I interviewed Matt, the tabloids were dominated by bleary eyed photos of binned contestant Frankie Cocozza. The Xfactor is a big show and all, but did the dalliances of a bird nest haired, drug glorifying teenager really warrant front page news?

Interestingly a tweet from the aforementioned Steve Brookstein, yes he’s on Twitter, well, he probably has a lot of time on his hands, read ‘‘Frankie Cocozza on the front pages…the debt crisis must be sorted then’’.

I’ll hold my hands up and say I was a fan of the show in previous years, but then I was also once a fan of Zack Morris from ‘Saved by the Bell’, things change. But this year despite the shock exits, the antics of a mock and roller, even Misha B’s amazing transforming hair it’s all a bit boring.

Some would argue it lost it’s, ahem, Xfactor-when Simon Cowell left.  Others would say the new judging panel is a bit cardboard, me, I think it’s because it’s all been done before, the sob stories, the boy bands, the one that everyone hates, the oddball that everyone loves and Louis Walsh clapping like seal and repeating lines over and over….a bit like Frankie Cocozza in that respect.

I reckon the show should call it a day after this year, but from the hundreds of thousands that turned up for this year’s auditions it’s unlikely. Something would need to change though because rather than the X for me it’s fast becoming the Y? Factor

Mirror Mirror on the wall...

 Why is it that when you are young all you want to be is older, then you reach a certain time of life, the scales tip and then getting older is the last thing you want to be?

Take teenage girls; eyelinered up, friend’s big sisters dress and heels so high when walking they look more like Bambi taking his first precarious steps than a model strutting her stuff.

Undeniably gorgeous they teeter out of taxis linking arms feeling all 'Sex and the city ‘and bravely attempt to bypass the doorman in the hope they won’t be id’d. Come on we’ve all done it.

Equally teenage boys long for the day when they can get their driving licence and take the pristeen 1994 citroen, thats been blocking the drive way for six months patiently waiting for a driving test to be passed, for a spin in the city centre.

Several years ago, by day I was a uni student, by night I channelled by own inner doorman as I stood behind the counter of an off licence. A job I loved because customers were always jovial, they were either going out for a big night on the town or staying in with a few drinks and were full of the joys of spring.

But every now and then a wide eyed chancer would come in. Sometimes alone, sometimes in packs for security, they’d teeter (in their Bambi heels) to the fridge and nervously grab several fluorescent alcopops which they’d then plant on the counter avoiding eye all contact. Or if they felt brave they’d go all out and ask for a ‘half bottle’ while staring at the ground or the ceiling, pretty much anywhere except at the person behind the counter for fear they’d be found out.

Then, inevitably, they would hear two dreaded words, Any ID? A licence would be abruptly slid across the counter. It was almost as if they were handling stolen goods and wanted to detach their prints from it as quickly possible. And no wonder because the photo and moreover the date of birth on the ID was no more them than it was Freddie Mercury.

One look and they knew they were caught, some laughed and quickly exited, some, mostly boys, tired to fight their case and say the photo was from years ago. I had to ask what moisturiser they used because the bearded bespectacled man in their photo looked nothing like the not yet shaving, fresh faced young’in stood before me.

Speaking of youth restoring lotions and potions, science boffins have created a ‘life extending pill’. Now anyone would be forgiven for thinking this ‘miracle pill’ would add years to your life, but it does quite the opposite, it takes years off, your appearance at least. Reckon that sounds a bit wacky? Well thousands of people across the UK would disagree because ‘Royal Green Astaxanthin’ to give it’s official name, has a waiting list of thousands and sold out within four hours when it went on sale this week in the UK.

According to those behind it the pill reduces visible signs of UV-aging through dietary supplementation within four to six weeks of use. Dietary supplementation? No thanks I’ll take crows feet anyday rather than give up my grannys applecakes!

Some Sights on Fright Night

Halloween is just around the corner and I can’t wait. It's one of my favourite days in the year and I love how everyone in the city young and old embraces it.

The 31^st of October was always a big occasion in our house and since we were no age our costumes have looked the part. My earliest recollection is my brother and I being Oliver Twist and his wee sister with soot covered faces and ragged clothes.

This supporting actress role did not go down well with the three year old me so the following year I was a vision in a rainbow of colours, dressed up as one of those Caribbean women with grass skirt and plastic fruit piled high on my head. Which, incidentally, my younger brother might have tried to eat because I might have told him it was real.

One year the parents decided that my two brothers and I (the young ‘in hadn’t appeared yet) would all dress up as the same thing. We agreed and giggled excitedly in the back of the car on the way home from school thinking about what theme the 'rents had come up with.

Superheroes we concluded. I was surely going to be ‘Shera Princess of Power’ while my brothers were definitely going to be either ‘The Turtles’ or ‘Batman and Robin’.  We were in fact two priests and a nun!

As it was my first communion year I was very holy and took to my role as ‘Sister Anna Marie’ with gusto.  I donned my rosary beads and spent the entire night with my hands joined looking pius while trick or treating and blessing mammy’s for the bountiful rice crispy buns and monkey nuts that they packed into our pumpkin shaped baskets.

Our house was not alone in going all out for Halloween, all my friends were the same, and everybody’s costumes were always home made and brilliant. Someone was a ‘Ghostbuster’ with their dad's overalls and half a vacuum cleaner inside a school bag.

Two kids I know were dressed up as ‘Sam and Ella, two bad eggs’. There were pirates with tinfoil and cardboard swords, skeletons made out of a black jumper and some masking tape and Greek god costumes from a spare sheet pilfered from the hot press.

Now it’s become a multi million pound industry with more and more costumes shops popping up every year. The costumes are expensive but fantastic and everyone young and old takes part.

But the best costumes have to be men dressed up as women. I’m not talking drag queens with impeccable make up and legs to die for. I’m talking your average hairy legged, beer bellied bloke in a miniskirt, halter neck and pink stilettos.

Some may think the essence of Halloween has been lost over the years with it now being a fashion parade rather than a bewitching eve of all souls.

But the sight of of a middle aged man staggering up the road at three in the morning with one shoe, wig back to front and handbag round his neck...now that’s scary!

You've got mail

Online Dating discuss...That was the subject up for debate among a group of my friends recently.
Well, it wasn't  that formal, there was no sign of an audience or David Dimbleby presiding over the proceedings, nevertheless a colourful debate ensued.

Now, having not being a singleton for manys a moon, I couldn't reallly offer much in the way of an opinion although I have to admit that when the subject came up I did the whole 'cough cough lonely weirdos cough cough'. 

However the girl in question who has signed herself up to the most popular site de jour isn't an anorak wearing, bunny boiling loner with an unnecessary collection of porcelain dolls. She is successful, pretty, has all her own teeth and as far as I know has a clean criminal record.
Although, if rumours are true, because of a teenage obssession with Take That she's not allowed within a hundred yards of Gary Barlow, well, having seen how dashing he looks these days I'm sure shes not alone.

So why then you might ponder would she feel the need to sign up to a (snigger) online dating site?
Well she clocks up almost 50 hours a week in work and always has something lined up at the weekend so she literally has no time to meet anyone.
Couple that with the fact that everyone around her is betrothed or wed (I recently watched Jane Eyre and have come over all Charlotte Bronte) and that when she goes to visit her parents her beleaguered mother tells her she has taken to saying novenas in the hope that she will get a grandchild.

So she bit the bullet and found that many online female singletons were in the same boat. Fed up of meeting people in bars and hearing slurred chat up lines 'sheeriously you look, hiccup, like a film shtaar' or meeting someone at the gym 'yeah so I just bench pressed my own body weight, feel my bicep, isn't that amazing' she signed up.

Now she admits that her only experience of this sort of thing is having watched 'You've got mail' nevertheless she (bravely) decided to take the risk of having to date Meg Ryan. As with everything there are minefields and she has come across the odd oddball. There was the guy who posted a profile photo himself...from ten years ago. The bloke who joined the site because he hoped 'all women weren't as evil as his demon ex girlfriend' and the dude who shared a bedroom with 8 lizards and four snakes.

Being the (nosey girls) helpful friends that we all are we convinced her to sign on so we could filter through the profiles and the most shocking aspect of the whole thing was how 'normal' the majority of people were. Granted anybody can come across as normal wihen you only have a stamp sized profile photo and a description in less than 140 characters to go on, but for every person you would cross the street to avoid there were five that seemed your average Joe looking for an average Josephine. She's going on her first 'date' this week. Coffee, during daytime hours, in a busy place, with several exits, just incase it does turn out to be Meg Ryan.

Out of the mouths of babes

Remember school around the corner? It used to be on a Sunday evening before Heartbeat, which incidentally was the programme that signified a bath was imminent and would be swiftly followed by a bout of Monday-itis.

Well, school around the corner involved everybody’s friend Frank ‘the weatherman’ Mitchell having a chat to school children about this and that, while squirming parents held their breath in the audience praying that their precious cherub would not tell the nation the family secrets.

I have several schoolteacher friends and they have at times found themselves in the Frank Mitchell role when a pupil provides too much information. But the funniest has to be some of the answers they and other teachers have come across in exams.

History first and did you know ‘in war time, children in big cities had to be evaporated’ that ‘ancient Egypt was inhabited by mummies who all wrote in hydraulics and crossed the Sarah dessert and that poor Jesus died on Christmas day?

Science now and according to one student H20 is hot water and C02 is cold water, while a magnet is something you find crawling over something that is dead. Apparently before giving a blood transfusion you must check to see if the blood is affirmative or negative.

Did you know that seizure is a roman emperor and a centimetre is an animal with a hundred legs? Terminal illness is when you are sick at the airport and giraffes need long necks because their heads are so far away from their bodies. An adaptation is when you go to live with another family and symmetry is a place where dead people live.

The funny thing about children’s exams answers is that you can see their reason and can trace how their minds have travelled to just short of the correct answer.

What is also funny is spotting plagiarism, where for the most part a story barely makes any sense and then suddenly slap bang in the middle you’ll find the most exquisite prose ‘John wonted to go play sum footbal perchance it happened to be Spring’.

Equally a child can describe something with such aplomb that you would struggle to put it better your self ‘the ballerina lifted her long slender leg, like a dog at a lamp post’.

 And its not just at school that children are free with their information, like the now (in) famous scenario which occurred in my friends house. Every night just as they were about to sit down to dinner the nosey neighbour called round. On one occasion so fed up was he of the nightly intrusion the father of the house exclaimed ‘see if that is that bloody woman again!’ the child answered the door and came back into the kitchen followed by the neighbour and shouted ‘aye you’re right daddy it is that bloody woman!!

Red Carpet Roll Call

*Health and safety warning: be careful not to trip over the amount of names I drop in this column

They say the bigger the celebrity, the nicer the person. I don’t know, I hear Irish glove puppet Bosco is a right wee diva. They also say you should never meet your heroes because they’ll more than likely fail to live up to your expectations.

Well this weekend I decided to take that risk and head to Dublin to interview some of the biggest names in pop and rock.

The Stereophonics, Scissor Sisters, The Saturdays, Joshua Radin, Paolo Nutini, Labyrinth, Aloe Blacc and my old gal pal Paloma Faith were just some of the acts who performed at the 2011 Arthur’s day celebrations. And I managed to get up close and personal with them all to talk everything from number one albums to fruit and veg stalls.

After arriving in Dublin my first port of call was a plush hotel in the city centre where all the bands and musicians were holed up in hotel rooms ready to face a barrage of questions from interviewers from NME to National Geographic. It seems everyone was willing to take the ‘meet your heroes risk’ I was.

My first interview of the day was in the perfectly formed shape of The Saturdays. And yes they are every bit as immaculate and lovely in the flesh.

We talked music, fashion, babies, icons, first jobs and their upcoming tour. Apparently Mollie takes the longest to get ready and they’d most like to work with Stevie Wonder.

First interview done and I was ushered into another hotel room and there before me were The Scissor Sisters. Ana Matronic’s surname is Lynch would you believe and her family are from Cork. We bonded over matching names and the guys revealed that it was a double celebration for them not only was it Arthur’s day but also the tenth anniversary that the group first got together.

Next it was time to take up our spot on the red carpet where I interviewed the lovely Ed Sheeran of ‘A team’ fame, the song that is, not the crime fighting TV stars. He told me just before his career took off he was spotted in a LA club by Hollywood actor Jamie Foxx who then invited him to stay with him.

The red carpet was also a good opportunity to get photos and sound bites from famous folk. It was fun because you stand in one place and the lovely PR folk bring them to you, so it’s almost a conveyor belt of celebrities.

Aloe Blacc is inspired by Ray Charles. A set of matching towels. Joshua Radin was a painter before he was a singer. A cuddly toy.

 My favourite interview of the day however was saved for last. Just as the last of the stars had sashayed down the carpet the Stereophonics appeared in all their pint sized prettiness. I had interviewed lead singer Kelly Jones before, but that was on the phone, so this time I had to work overtime suppress the major fan within and channel all my excitable giggles into being a reporter and actually getting a few questions out.

They’re currently putting the finishing touches to their new album, the most obscure place they’ve ever played a gig was a public toilet in shepherds bush and Kelly Jones used to work on a fruit and veg stall.

Arthur’s day takes place every year to mark the anniversary of when Arthur Guinness signed on the 9000 year lease for the now world famous brewery.

So there's still around 8749 years  of  celebrations, I should have the whole celeb interview thing down to a tee by then.

Tantrums and Tiaras

Remember when you were six and went to New York fashion week and threw an almighty tantrum because you couldn’t get your teeth whitened? No? Me neither, because we aren’t Eden Wood and the star of a reality TV show about Middle America beauty pageants.

The mini model went into meltdown this week after the she was told she couldn’t try Glo brilliant teeth whitening kit because she didn’t have ‘her big girl teeth’.

While the rest of us would plead guilty to throwing tantrums on a similar scale at her age, they were more than likely because we weren’t tall enough to get on the ladybird ride at Redcastle amusements, or because the hair on our 'Girl’s World' head got all tangled, not because we wanted our gnashers to be visible from the moon.

Eden from Arkansas has ‘retired’ from the US beauty pageant scene after winning over 300 trophies and the pint sized premadonna has now set her sights on world domination. She’s currently cutting her (milk) teeth in the fashion industry and spends her time doing fun childhood things like attending catwalk shows with her mum and her agent (!)
 
Her not remotely mental mother Micki Wood says she hopes to build an 'Eden empire' because she wants to become rich and famous through her child, ahem, because that is ‘the child’s destiny’.  
Mother of the year Micki said the empire will include music, merchandise and an action figure. An action figure? Of a six year old beauty queen? What will her special powers be, grinning her enemies into submission?  

Now I have to tread carefully here for fear that a gang of Derry Feis mums picket the newsroom and threaten to have their daughters execute a four hand heavy jig on my car bonnet.
The Derry feis is an institution and was the first stepping stone to stardom for many North West singers, dancers and actors. There’s a strong Irish dancing community in Derry alone and the dedication and time they put in has to be applauded.

In that sense it is a million miles away from the looks orientated childhood robbing wrongness of a beauty pageant but the wigs, the tan and the makeup is getting more extreme every year and is in some cases a hair spray can short of pageant like behaviour.

I’m all for nurturing a child’s interests and talents but cashing in on their looks, making them aware of their flaws and plunging them into the beauty industry, a world so unforgiving that grown women struggle to deal with let alone someone who still has to sleep with the light on is anything but pretty