Bliss' Blog

I'm Blogging My New Teen Book!

2007-11-09T15:48:00Z

I plan to blog my newest teen book, chapter by chapter. It’s a risky (and some would say crazy) move. But I have a fun story to tell and you look like exactly the kind of person who appreciates a good book.

So why not come along for the ride? Maybe, together, we can shake up the way books are published in the 21st century.

Chapter 1 of 'A Very British Sort of Bliss' has just been posted, but you'll have to go to;

http://www.myspace.com/francesobrien

http://www.bebo.com/CelebritySpawn

http://www.newteenbook.blogspot.com

Check it out and if you like what you read, tell your friends!

About ‘A Very British Sort of Bliss’

2007-11-09T15:46:00Z

Growing up beneath the watchful gaze of the ever-present paparazzi and seeing your Mom’s tonsils sell for big bucks on eBay can leave a girl with some serious trust issues. So how is Bliss Drew, one very reluctant Celebrity Spawn, supposed to feel when her Mom drags her halfway around the planet to shoot a movie in London? Sure, Bliss’

L.A. school has had enough of her bad behaviour, and there is a whack- job stalking her Mom – but just how is a stint in an English all- girls academy supposed to help?!!

‘A Very British Sort of Bliss’ is the second in a series of teen books centred around Bliss Drew and her attempts to lead a sane and normal life despite her Mom’s huge fame, crazy entourage and annoying fans. This latest book is exclusively available via the author’s blog (from November 9th). New chapters will be added twice every week until the story is complete. Go to

http://www.myspace.com/francesobrien

http://www.bebo.com/CelebritySpawn

http://www.newteenbook.blogspot.com

Celebrity Spawn - Group Therapy Session....

2007-04-24T11:09:00Z

The limo passed through some serious-looking security gates before pulling to a stop outside a secluded villa. A courtyard filled with limos, drivers and bodyguards confirmed the fact that we were in the right place; there was obviously some sort of meeting going on inside.

Moyra steered me through the front door with a firm hand.

Entering the property felt like walking into a Starbucks on a busy Saturday afternoon. The place was filled with over-styled assistants in varying degrees of hysteria, all of them were carrying expensively brewed coffee and most of them were gossiping. It was obvious that this waiting area was were all of the really interesting action of the Famous Haven Club took place. But I was not allowed to hang around.

Moyra whisked me over to a bewildered-looking blonde lady, whose huge and unceasing smile did not meet her eyes.

They were clearly old pals of some sort. The stick-thin blonde woman looked like she might just snap as she suffered a strenuous hug from Moyra.

‘Well you must be our newest member,’ cooed the woman. ‘I am very pleased to meet you Bliss. My name is Dr. Neurheim and I will be facilitating today’s meeting.’

She nodded to one of two bodyguards standing next to a huge door, who immediately lunged for my purse. But I was not about to hand over my personal possessions, even if the purse only contained a lip balm, a hairbrush and some kleenex.

Dr Neurheim placed a reassuring hand on mine.

‘Sorry Bliss,’ she whispered, ‘it’s policy here at the Club. Nobody gets to enter a meeting without being searched. Cameras, cellphones and recording devices are strictly forbidden. It’s the only way that we can guarantee privacy for our members. They even search me for goodness sake!’

She laughed politely, but I failed to see the humour in the situation as I was quickly frisked. The whole freak-show felt like one huge violation to the concept of my privacy.

I stormed through the doorway and entered another world.

The meeting room was huge and sedate. An interior designer with a big budget and a taste for modern art had obviously been employed to great effect. The whole place screamed meditation and relaxation. Some sort of new-age type music was playing and it smelled like there was some incense burning somewhere.

I slammed the door behind me and made my way towards a seating area that consisted of a circle of some over-sized beanbags. Heads turned to assess the latest recruit, but I was too annoyed to care. I sullenly kept my eyes to the floor as I threw myself down onto a seat. There was no way that I was going to participate in the stupid session and the sooner that everyone understood that, the better.

‘Hey, fresh meat,’ clucked a familiar voice.

I quickly glanced up to see one of the two most famous teenagers in town. Fatima Fairchild was the blue-haired, foul-mouthed ‘star’ of television’s most notorious reality-show family. Millions tuned in each week to witness her and her brother Fever behaving badly. Their Mom was a huge rock star with a wardrobe that seemed to consist entirely of leather outfits.

The much-pierced Fever was sitting next to his sister. He saved me the trouble of telling her to leave me alone by sharply digging her in the ribs.

A junior blonde clone who looked like she had just stepped off the fashion pages was scrutinising me from the seat just to my right.

‘What happened to your eyebrow?’ she whined.

‘What’s it to you?’ I snapped as I quickly returned my stare to the safety of the floor.

She obviously didn’t take the hint.

‘Didn’t I just see you on the cover of Celebrity Photo Today? Aren’t you Angel’s daughter?’ she asked.

I shot her a seriously evil stare.

‘Really Sophie,’ said the very elegant and handsome boy who sat in the corner, ‘you know it’s rude to ask so many questions. When your Mother interviews people she is doing so in a purely professional capacity.’

‘Allow me to introduce myself,’ said the highly-groomed boy-candy. ‘My name is Prince Alexander. Please excuse Ms Huxtable for her bad manners, she appears to have inherited her Mother’s knack for asking too many probing questions.’

So that’s why Sophie had looked so familiar.. Her Mom was the world-famous talk-show host, Honey Huxtable. Her show was syndicated worldwide and she was rumoured to earn even more than my Mom.

The Famous Haven Club was clearly pretty exclusive turf; I was surrounded by the ultimate in A-list progeny.

Dr Neurheim entered with another young member in tow. The dark-haired boy looked even more mad than me and I was pretty sure that I had seen his face somewhere before. Our frozen-smiled facilitator steered the boy to a seat next to hers before she began.

‘I would like to welcome you all to this meeting of the Famous Haven Club,’ she cooed, sounding more like a particularly manic air stewardess than a shrink. She extended her hand towards my seat. ‘And I would particularly like to welcome our newest member, Bliss Drew.’

The circle greeted this announcement with a lethargic round of applause.

‘As you all know, you all share a common bond,’ she continued. ‘You are all products of a privileged identity. Families who face fame face many challenges. And today we will be exploring ways that each of you can embrace your own specialness..’

Now I seriously wanted to gag. The idea of exploring my own specialness brought me out in a cold sweat. Was there an exit door anywhere?

‘But before we do that,’ said Dr Neurheim with a sudden look of sad concern, ‘Zach would like to share with the group.’

Zach, the dark-haired boy looked uncomfortable and annoyed. He shifted around in his chair, clearly feeling no urgent need to share anything with the group.

‘Hear you totalled that Ferarri, man,’ said Fever Fairchild.

‘Did they manage to get the car out of the pool? asked Sophie Huxtable.

Zach rolled his eyes and I suddenly realized why he had looked so familiar. Pictures of him had filled the papers and magazines when he was rumoured to have driven his Dad’s $1 million Ferarri into the indoor swimming pool of their mansion. His Dad, the big-shot comedian and actor Colin O’Connor had made a huge joke of the incident, but even in a town notorious for extravagant bad behaviour, news of Zach’s crash was still front-page stuff.

He was a Troubled Teen for sure. Although I seriously doubted that the intervention of Dr Neurheim or The Famous Haven Club was about to do anything to change that.

Zach O’Connor had earned his ticket to this assembly of freaks. My transgressions would not even register on his scale of bad behaviour.

I prayed that this would be the last meeting of The Famous Haven Club that I would ever have to endure.

Dr Neurheim quickly registered the fact that Zach was not about to spill his emotional guts to the group (and who could blame him?). So she decided to move things along.

‘Okay everyone,’ she said, ‘let’s start this meeting with some really positive energy. A little affirming exercise should do the trick.’

Fatima and Fever rolled their eyes. They seemed to know what to expect.

‘Everyone in the circle, please turn to the person on your left,’ Dr Neurheim instructed.

Like everyone else, I did as I was told.

I turned to my left and realised that I was sitting next to Dee Dee Jones. Her Mom, Janet Jones, was the first female Governor. I had seen pictures of the famous first family of the state everywhere during the recent campaign. Dee Dee’s huge brown eyes were unmistakable. And she looked as uncomfortable in this setting as she had looked at all of the highly-publicised state events that I had ever seen.

Who would ever want to be a politician’s kid? It was almost worse than having a Mom in the movie business.

Dee Dee quickly turned to her left, presenting me with her back.

‘Okay everyone,’ enthused Dr Neurheim, ‘let’s affirm each other with gentle pats on the back. And I want you all to repeat after me “you are a Special Person in your own right”’.

All around the room people patted each other backs and repeated the mantra;

You are a Special Person in your own right.

It occurred to me that I was, perhaps, the only sane person in the group.

A Sneaky Peek at 'A Very British Sort of Bliss'

2007-03-01T10:58:00Z

I was relieved that Mom would be filming the night before my first day at my new London school. The last thing I needed was some sugar-coated lecture on the exciting possibilities of a new life experience (barf!). My introduction to life in England hadn’t exactly gotten off to a great start. And as I lay on my bed and regarded the plaid uniform that was hanging outside of my closet, the signs for any immediate improvement in my life were looking pretty ominous.

So when I heard a knock on my bedroom door I knew I didn’t want company.

‘I’m not here,’ I yelled.

‘Well, strictly speaking, neither am I,’ said a familiar voice as my bedroom door was flung open.

It was Grandma Ellen!

‘Tell me you’re here to rescue me,’ I said as we hugged.

‘Wish I could Sweetie,’ said Grandma as she tilted my face up towards the light, ‘but I’m in enough trouble as it is.’

She released my face with a dramatic flourish. ‘You know, you have perfect pores. Great genes and youth; if they could only bottle it and sell it then a lot of plastic surgeons would be kissing their ferarris goodbye.’

Ellen threw herself onto my couch and perched her feet on a huge mound of cushions. She surveyed her feet with irritation.

‘You know all that flying will give me the ankles of an old lady if I am not careful.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous, Ellen,’ I said (I always knew just what to say whenever she was fishing for a compliment). ‘But you really should wear comfortable shoes when you fly.’

‘Now Bliss,’ said Ellen, ‘you know that I am a simple creature. But I do have my standards and unlike your Mom I refuse to be seen in public wearing any item of clothing with the word sweat in its name. You can tell what kind of a person someone is by looking at their shoes, and these Jimmy Choos are my simple way of announcing to the world that I have a commitment to all that is fabulous. Besides, isn’t it a sin to hide your light under a bushel?’

I looked at the diamond-studded shoes with the killer heels and smiled my reply. Nobody could accuse Ellen of being a shrinking violet.

‘Didn’t Mom just send you on a cruise?’ I asked.

‘Now I really do not want to badmouth your Mom,’ said Ellen, ‘but the woman went and put me on a slow boat to China. And I mean literally. She said it would be a lovely surprise. And the next thing I know I’m cruising down the Yangtze River with a bunch of people who looked like they had just escaped from a retirement home! Can you believe it? I mean I enjoy a little culture as much as the next person, but if I never see another temple again it will be too soon… In the end I had to fake appendicitis just so they’d evacuate me to Hong Kong. Frankly, why anyone would choose to sail through some old ruins when there are some SERIOUSLY marvellous shoe shops and spas just a short hop away is quite simply beyond me. I don’t know what your Mom was thinking.’

I was pretty confident I knew exactly what Mom was thinking, but I kept my mouth shut. I doubted that Ellen wanted to be reminded of Enrique – a young souvenir from her last cruise who turned out to be a complete love rat. His name had not been mentioned since he jilted her just days before they had planned their wedding. Mom probably figured that dancers like Enrique did not feature heavily on the itinerary of a cultural cruise of the Yangtze.

‘Of course, she wanted me out of the way, you know,’ said Ellen. ‘She made it perfectly clear that she didn’t want me tagging along on this trip to London. Why she imagined that I could not be trusted to keep a secret I’ll never know.’

Jet-lag had clearly chewed up Ellen’s brain. I had no idea what she was talking about, but I knew exactly why Mom wouldn’t want Ellen in London. My Grandma was not what you might call publicity shy. The last thing Mom needed was the worry of a surprise appearance by Ellen in the British media. It made perfect sense.

‘So you’re not staying?’ I asked, disappointed.

‘Sorry kiddo, but this is what you might call a flying visit. There’s a car waiting outside to transfer me to the private jet that an old pal of mine has sent to collect me. I can’t be expected to celebrate the New Year in Aspen until I’ve ironed out some of these creases,’ she said, pointing to her face. ‘And there’s an amazing clinic in Switzerland that can squeeze me in if I hurry.’

‘Can I come?’ I asked, being deliberately pathetic.

‘Just thank your lucky stars that you have at least another decade before you need to start thinking about finding a great surgeon,’ said Ellen. ‘What’s up? Is Angel giving you a hard time?’

I pointed to the uniform and watched Ellen shudder.

‘I either make it work in some all-girls school tomorrow or I’ll be sent to a boarding school in Arizona.’

‘What,’ said Ellen, ‘absolutely no boys?’

‘I’m not worried about there being no boys.’

‘Give it time,’ said Ellen.

‘I just want to go home,’ I said.

‘Listen Bliss,’ said Ellen, suddenly sitting up, ‘I’m gonna tell you something I told your Mom a long time ago; home is not a place – being home means being together. And right now you need to be with your Mom. Sure, I know she can be a little intense. But everything happens for a reason. And you have got to believe that you are here for a very good reason.’

There was a tap on my door as Bob, Mom’s head of security, announced his arrival.

‘Excuse me Ellen, ‘ he said, ‘but your driver says you need to leave now.’

‘I’m on my way,’ said Ellen, ‘just give us a minute please.’

Ellen waited to see Bob disappear from view before reaching into her huge Chanel purse. She rummaged around before she produced a gift and she carefully placed it into my hands.

‘I believe you have a right to this,’ she said with uncharacteristic seriousness. ‘Your Mom will not be happy with me; I know that. But even so, I want you to talk with her once you’ve had a chance to think. Don’t worry about getting me into trouble. It’s not as though your Mom can send me away to boarding school. If I can handle a cultural cruise up the Yangtze, I can handle anything.’

Ellen hugged me tight and left as quickly and as unexpectedly as she had arrived. The only proof I had of her visit was the gift in my hand. It was impossible to imagine just what it was about this particular tastefully-wrapped offering that could upset my Mom. Ellen’s gifts were usually expensive, designer-label accessories. Unless the box contained my passport and a ticket to Los Angeles it was unlikely to rock my world. As I ripped at the box is soon became clear that it contained nothing more exciting than a video…

Why had Ellen given me some old video that had been too lame to even make it to dvd?

I examined the cover for evidence. The movie had clearly been produced by a London studio – their Union Jack logo was sprawled next to the movie title. And it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that ‘Starship Survivors’ was some sort of a sci-fi creation. How old was it? There was the date, it was a year older than me..

Wait a minute, was my Mom’s face??

Suddenly I had a bing-bing-bing moment all of my own.

Mom had been talking about London for months before this trip, but she had never mentioned the fact that she had already shot a movie in England. And it was not in her nature to miss even the tiniest triumph from her hugely successful career. I could have sworn that I knew every last boring detail of Angel’s career, from her first job as the ‘Betsy Bubbles Baby’ right up to her last Golden Globe. But this English film was news to me. Something was definitely up.

I stared at the video with renewed interest.

There was only one possible explanation, because there was only one huge skeleton in our family cupboard. There was one question that was never answered. There was one discussion-free zone.

My heart suddenly felt as though it would jump right out of my chest. Because I knew, I just knew, that my Dad’s name was listed somewhere on those credits.

All I had to do now was to find him.

Gift Bags

2007-02-26T10:46:00Z

Okay, so I’m not a party person. But can someone please explain to me how the whole gift bag thing got so utterly out of control? Now movie stars cannot go to an event without coming home with a bag stuffed with over-priced goodies. And given the fact that they are some of the highest-paid people on the planet, you can be pretty certain that they don’t actually need any of the stuff in those bags.

How has such a bizarre practice extended to all parties? And you’ve got to ask yourself why would friends expect to leave your birthday party with a bag filled with gifts? Shouldn’t it be the other way round?

Who are you wearing??

2007-02-07T14:43:00Z

Actors are needy people; that’s why they have a whole season of award ceremonies when most of us mere mortals would be happy with a bonus. Before we reach the limo-gridlock that is the Academy Awards, take a moment to consider what kind of nominee you would be…

News of your nomination was
A            expected
B            a surprise and an honor
C            received on the set of your latest independent movie in Brazil

Your pre-Oscar beauty regime consists of
A            the usual fillers and botox, with daily oxygen facials
B            some trips to your favorite salon
C            everything that the Brazilian rainforest has to offer

In the week before the Academy Awards you will eat
A            nothing but juices, prepared by your nutritionist
B            whatever your nerves allow (and the occasional celebratory Krispy Kreme)
C            the same macrobiotic food as always

Your choice of gown will be
A            crucial; your stylist will gather gowns from all the top names
B            confusing and scary
C            your chance to make a statement, a swan outfit perhaps…

Your jewels will be
A            the best that Harry Winston has to offer
B            borrowed
C            handmade and designed by you

Your date will be
A            gorgeous
B            your sweetheart
C            your Mom

When you walk down the famous red carpet you will
A            look amazing and stop only for interviews with big networks
B            wonder if people can hear your heart beating and regret your decision to pass on having your pits botoxed
C            wonder what all the fuss is about

If you win, your speech will be
A            long- you will thank everyone from God to your drama teacher
B            tearful
C            political, so what if you have to be escorted off the stage?

After the ceremony you plan to
A            be photographed at all the major parties
B            take off your shoes and eat a cheeseburger
C            attend a protest meeting

The contents of your gift bags will be
A            shared among your entourage
B            exciting to explore the morning after
C            donated to your favorite charity

You will keep your Oscar
A            in your office
B            on your bedside
C            in your bathroom

Mostly As
You are a diva and you know it. A night at the Academy Awards gives you the opportunity to show us mere mortals just what gorgeous looks like. Just remember that it pays to be nice – you need votes if you want to leave with an Oscar!

Mostly Bs
You are an innocent abroad! Don’t let the glitz and glamour of Hollywood spoil your sweet nature. Enjoy the limelight but keep your feet firmly on that red carpet.

Mostly Cs
Oscar night would be boring without an eccentric. You have the courage of your (sometimes) zany convictions. You are too original to be bothered by the pictures of you that are bound to show up on the worst-dressed pages.

Hollywood Holidays

2006-12-22T10:15:00Z

Do you celebrate the holidays like a celebrity, or are you still too sane for all that silliness? Take this simple quiz to find out.

Your home has been decorated
A           by professionals.
B            with the latest, color-coordinated designer decorations.
C            with the usual stuff.

Your gifts have been wrapped
A            by the staff.
B            tastefully.
C            in a rush.

Your pet pooch has been prepared for the Holidays with
A            a manicure at the doggie beauty parlour.
B            a new designer outfit.
C            a tasty treat.

It is a Holiday tradition in your home to
A            blast your huge yard with snow (to guarantee a White Christmas).
B            spend too much money.
C            spend time together.

The best thing about this time of year is
A            the great parties.
B            the great gifts.
C            getting together with friends.

You hope for
A            something from Tiffanys.
B            a purse from Prada.
C            peace (plus, some gifts would be nice!).

Your celebratory meal will be
A            prepared by the caterers.
B            filled with calories.
C            eaten with family and friends.

You remember those less fortunate than you
A            and make sure you are photographed at a homeless shelter.
B            and quickly think of something more fun.
C            and make a donation of time / money.

In 2007 you hope to be
A            a size 0.
B            famous.
C            happy.

Mostly As
Your Holiday celebrations are certainly glamorous, but they could just lack a little heart. Remember it’s not just about the gifts and the parties. Give the staff a break, give a little more of yourself - you might just be surprised at how fun it can be.

Mostly Bs
Wouldn’t it be more fun to relax at this time of year, instead of worrying whether your festivities are as fabulous as the famous? Maybe take things down a level or two; spend less money and ditch the diet. You don’t want to start 2007 as another Wannabe…

Mostly Cs
Your Holidays are guaranteed to be fun! Enjoy your family and friends. Have lots of fun and 2007 will get off to the best possible start!

Celebrity Eating Habits

2006-12-01T10:49:00Z

Are You A Fussy Eater?

Celebrities are notoriously difficult to please about most things, but never more so than where food is concerned. There are stars who will only eat foods of a certain colour on certain days of the week (you think I’m kidding?), and there are stars who will only eat food that has been lovingly prepared by their personal chef and approved by their personal nutritionist and trainer.

Most stars’ bizarre eating patterns have evolved through a combination of overindulgence and a fear of gaining a couple of pounds. But what could be regarded as little more than eccentric behaviour starts to become more significant and disturbing when celebrities decide to take up airtime and column inches telling the rest of us how to eat.

But have these bizarre celebrity diets altered the way you eat? Are you a fussy eater? Take this simple quiz to find out…

You and some friends visit a restaurant. You are presented with a menu, do you
A    disregard completely – you always order off-menu.
B    worry and search for food to meet (this week’s) latest diet.
C    find something yummy.

You will only eat food that is
A    purple.
B    allowed on your diet plan.
C    delicious.

Your vegetables must be
A    organic and harvested while the moon was full.
B    grilled.
C    tasty.

You would never ever eat
A    anything containing meat, wheat or dairy.
B    anything ‘naughty’.
C    food you just don’t like.

For breakfast you eat
A    an egg-white omelette with some organic spinach.
B    a diet shake.
C    cereal and/or toast.

Fat is
A    a problem for other people.
B    bad.
C    a food group.

You mostly drink
A    wheatgrass juice.
B    water.
C    juice or soda.

The last time you ate ice cream was
A    a distant memory.
B    the last time you broke your diet plan (again).
C    last weekend.

Your idea of a snack is
A    organic blueberries, washed in mineral water.
B    a lo-calorie, sugar-free diet bar.
C    a cookie.

Mostly As
You are a diva when it comes to food, but you don’t care. Your demands would not be out of place in a Hollywood restaurant, but pity your parents and pals when they try to cook a tasty meal for you!

Mostly Bs
You’re so busy worrying about your diet that you have forgotten that food can be fun and tasty! Eating healthily isn’t nearly as complicated as those celebs would like you to believe. So relax a little and remember to enjoy what you eat.

Mostly Cs
Congratulations! In a world filled with weird diets and fussy eaters, you have managed to stay sane! Keep setting a good example for your pals when they start another crazy diet.

Stupid Names

2006-11-27T13:21:00Z

There should be some kind of law against the kinds of names that celebrities give their kids. And I should know. I mean what was my Mom thinking when she called me Bliss? She might as well have hung a neon sign around my neck to announce to the world that I was, in fact, Celebrity Spawn.

Kids who have famous parents have enough trouble in trying to blend in without having to explain away some of the more outlandish names that are out there. I know ‘Bliss’ isn’t as freakish as, say, ‘Moonunit’ or ‘Apple’, but neither is it as simple as ‘Sarah’ or ‘Becky’.

Nobody gets to choose their name – I know that. But can somebody please pass a law to ban these stupid names before the trend catches on?

Celebrity Wannabes

2006-11-16T11:10:00Z

The world has enough celebrities already – the last thing that we need is a whole bunch of celebrity wannabes. If you think that you or your pals may be in danger of morphing into a hair-straightened, shade-wearing, fashion-slave clone then take this simple test to find out how worried you should be…

Your dog needs some fresh air. Do you fetch
A            your designer pooch carrier.
B            a cute doggie outfit.
C            the lead.

You wear sunglasses whenever
A            you leave the house.
B            you want to show off your newest designer frames.
C            the sun shines.

Your spending on shoes is
A            legendary.
B            not nearly as huge as you’d like it to be.
C            sufficient.

When you leave school you want to be
A            a size 0.
B            popular.
C            successful in your chosen path.

Your hairstylist is
A            exclusive.
B            expensive.
C            at the local mall.

Your cosmetic purse is
A            Louis Vuitton.
B            always on your person.
C            disorganized.

Your skincare regime is
A            non-negotiable.
B            whatever is recommended in the latest glossies.
C            inconsistent.

You worship
A            yourself.
B            Paris Hilton.
C            a Higher Power.

Mostly As
You are beyond redemption – but you don’t care! If you can’t really be famous then you’ll settle for looking the part.

Mostly Bs
You are heading down a rocky road – and your originality is at serious risk. A little fashion never hurt anyone, but remember, the world does not need another clone. Aim to spend at least one day a week designer-free.

Mostly Cs
Congratulations! You are a sane soul in a celebrity-obsessed Universe. Keep reminding yourself of this fact whenever you see magazines and tv shows filled with images of clones.

Shades

2006-11-07T14:08:00Z

There is an art to wearing shades if you are a celebrity. And this year stars have been favouring sunglasses that are conspicuously huge (wonder if this is in anyway connected to the fashion for huge designer purses??). In fact the size of the frame appears to be in direct proportion of the magnitude of the celebrity.

But it’s not just the size of the frame that counts, the designer tag is obviously crucial too. It is important that the shades have been designed by someone who is famous and hugely expensive. The sunglasses must clearly display this fact.

Perhaps the biggest telltale sign that you are, in fact, in the presence of a shade-wearing megastar is the location. Most mere mortals wear sunglasses when the sun is shining. Some fashion victims wear them to the mall just to show off their latest designer frames. But a true celebrity will wear them as a disguise – and that means wearing sunglasses when no sane person would consider it. So you will see celebs wearing their shades;

inside an airport terminal
at night
at the supermarket (just in case you mistake them for an ordinary shopper)
leaving a nightclub
at their kids school recitals (you think I’m kidding?!)
inside hospital buildings
at all times following cosmetic surgery
over breakfast

Just how 21st century is your Grandma? Take this simple quiz to find out…

2006-10-31T09:50:00Z

Your Grandma’s last vacation was
A            a nice cruise.
B            a trip to Mexico.
C            when she eloped with her latest toy-boy.

If you opened your Grandma’s closet you would find
A            lots of shift dresses and comfortable sweaters.
B            mostly coordinated middle-aged stuff, with the occasional pair of jeans.
C            designer labels and lots of inappropriately short hemlines.

Last time your Grandma saw a doctor was when
A            she hurt her hip.
B            she needed some shots before her vacation.
C            she needed some more liposuction.

Your Grandma’s hair colour is
A            Grey
B            Streaked with some grey
C            Known only to her hairstylist

Your Grandma thinks that Botox is
A            a cleaning product.
B            a possibility.
C            a necessity.

Your Grandma’s favourite TV show is
A            reruns of ‘The Waltons’.
B            Oprah.
C            Extreme Makeover.

Your Grandma’s hobby is
A            quilting.
B            belly-dancing.
C            snowboarding.

Your Grandma’s heroine is
A            Laura Bush.
B            Jane Fonda.
C            Lindsay Lohan.

Your Grandma’s motto is
A            There’s No Place Like Home.
B            It’s Never Too Late.
C            You Can Never Be Too Rich or Too Thin.

Your Grandma’s ideal man is
A            Your Grandpa.
B            George Clooney.
C            Justin Timberlake.

Mostly As
Congratulations! Your Grandma is the now rarely-sighted traditional Grandma! She may be a little boring – but at least you know she will never try to borrow your skirt.

Mostly Bs
Your Grandma is aging gracefully – but she still likes to have some fun. But watch out, because if at some time in the future you see her with a taut, frozen face it is possible that she may be morphing into….

Most Cs
Hollywood Grandma! The highest maintenance of all known Grandmas! May be a little embarrassing at times, but will keep your supply of designer goodies well-stocked (if you like that kind of thing). This Grandma is never boring.

My Grandma

2006-10-31T09:45:00Z

Whatever happened to Grandmas? I only ask because I grew up with books and movies that gave me the idea that Grandmas were soft, grey-haired women of advanced years. They were too busy baking pies and knitting sweaters to follow fashion. They oozed maternal love and bragged about their grandkids to other old ladies.

But the fact is I have never actually seen a Grandma who fits that description.

Hollywood Grandmas are a different breed – they are High Maintenance. My Grandma Ellen is a perfect example of this, from her botoxed brow to the tips of her perfectly-manicured nails. Her actual age is a secret known only to her and the government. She dates men younger than my Mom and wears the kinds of clothes that even a pop-princess would find challenging.

Grandma Ellen has never baked a pie in her entire life. And I don’t remember her ever reading me a bedtime story. But I’m not complaining really. Ellen is pretty cool. She listens to me and she regularly reminds Mom to stop treating me like a kid.

But still I can’t help thinking, whatever happened to Grandmas?