After Catherine Tyldesley’s appalling Cakegate, let’s hope more sponging celebs end up with egg on their face
YOU have to admire Rebecca Severs.
When asked by a party planner if her bakery would supply two birthday cakes and 100 cupcakes for a celeb in exchange for social media exposure, she had a pithy response.
Rebecca told them her mortgage provider “doesn’t take payment in the form of promotion on their socials”.
Nor could her staff “feed their kids with exposure on Instagram”.
A good point, extremely well made. Good for her.
The planners were acting on behalf of former Corrie actress Catherine Tyldesley, whose response to the public revelation, on the other hand, was pretty appalling.
It gave a clear insight into the arrogance of some ’slebs when her extremely derogatory response was: “I hope the cake lady got the exposure she was craving.”
I beg your puddin’, Catherine? I don’t think she was the one craving attention.
Rebecca had turned down engaging in social media in exchange for free cakes.
I’D FEEL AWKWARD
This whole malarkey of ’slebs expecting something for nothing or a largely self-serving swap for pics and publicity is a growing trend.
It’s cheeky, cocky and often with an utter disrespect for the businesses trying to stay afloat.
Of course, it can work. Huge organisations love handing out their products if there’s a chance it will be seen by thousands, maybe millions, on various platforms.
But often these are companies with big profit margins, for whom sending out frocks, beauty products or watches will not dent their bottom line.
But Rebecca runs a bakery in West Yorkshire. If anything, she has proved that she’s a sage businesswoman by refusing to engage in some hopeful, whimsical giveaway.
Catherine denied any knowledge of the plans, and the planners have claimed that they weren’t asking for freebies, but it’s the principle I take issue with.
What is it with people that makes them think their endorsement will directly translate into an increase in earnings?
It’s the asking that makes me so uncomfortable. I’m happy to stand corrected, but I don’t believe in the 35 years of relative fame I’ve enjoyed that I have ever asked for a freebie.
What if they turned around and asked, “Who do you think you are?” I wouldn’t be able to give a compelling response.
But it’s also because I’ve always believed that if I can afford it, I should pay for it.
Maybe that’s my work ethic or stupidity and ignorance. But being on the ask would make me feel awkward.
Paid endorsements are different. I’ve engaged with companies to promote their products on social media in exchange for dosh.
But I’ve always been very mindful of ensuring I am only endorsing products I can associate with, that I believe in and have some semblance of credibility of who I am and what I represent.
Loads of ’slebs do this. I see it a hundred times a day on Instagram.
It’s easy to tell when someone believes in what they’re promoting, and when they’re not.
You could argue that if you don’t ask, you don’t get. But when I think of the incredibly tough time small businesses have had, it blows my mind how thoughtless you would be to expect them to give anything away.
Besides, if you can afford a party planner, you can surely afford a couple of cakes?
We live within our means, not within people’s perception of our greatness.
I hope the Three Little Birds Bakery in West Yorkshire goes from strength to strength.
Having said all that, it’s this minor celebrity’s birthday on August 16. A cake would be nice. Just sayin’.
Alice happy at last
TO say that Alice Evans and Ioan Gruffudd’s separation has been messy is an under-statement.
She claims he was unfaithful and left.
I had a lot of empathy for her when she went public with her over-wrought heartbreak, shock and despair.
Alice’s agony, pain and suffering for herself and their two daughters was there for all to see.
She clearly struggled to overcome the grief of her husband’s departure.
Her coping strategy was to go on the attack, and she proceeded to publicly shame her ex in what amounted to a very toxic social media campaign.
More recently there was a failed attempt by her daughter, with the support of Alice, to get a domestic violence restraining order against her dad.
At times, I felt Alice came across as if she’d lost the plot. But heartache can do that.
Rejection and a broken heart have the ability to make us go a bit doolally.
Now she has announced she has found love – and I’m thrilled for her.
It’s quite a feat at 55, I should know.
We get to a certain age and we think that notions of a romantic life may have passed us by. We’d be forgiven for thinking that falling in love is only for the young’uns, but it really isn’t.
Hopefully, whatever this “intense love” that Alice says she has found will help her feel a lot more positive about her life, about her future and maybe even – at some point – about her ex.
Because with children in the mix, they are bound together for a very long time yet.
Sex in fifties isn’t anticlimax
I’M not faking it when I say I love a good survey. This latest one was, that’s right, about women’s orgasms.
Apparently, the women of Sheffield enjoy the best sex lives, experiencing the longest orgasms, at an average of 15.5 seconds. (Question: Who is holding the stopwatch?)
The greedy devils also ranked highly for frequency of orgasms, at 60 per cent of the time from sex with their partner.
Which begs the question, what happens to the other 40 per cent?
Plymouth women have the highest number of multiple orgasms.
The survey of 1,000 British women aged 18 to 75 was carried out by sexual wellness company, Vella Bioscience, in honour of National Orgasm Day.
Surely every day should be one? It’s not clear whether all the women were straight but, in Belfast, nearly a third are likely to break up with a partner because they weren’t satisfied sexually.
One thing that really excited me, pardon the pun, was that women aged 45 to 54 had the most frequent orgasms and the most multiple orgasms.
If that doesn’t put paid to the theory that we reach our sexual peak in our thirties, I don’t know what will.
I know I harp on about it but I am really passionate about getting the message across that swinging from the chandelier doesn’t stop after our thirties – nor does the desire to.
Us oldies are consigned to barren lands when it comes to lust and passion because once our fertility declines and the menopause takes over, it’s presumed that so do our urges.
It’s simply not true. We’re still very much alive and we are strengthened by renewed confidence in what it is we really want.
Board by sea sport
THE RNLI has reported a steep rise in the number of paddleboarders needing to be rescued around the UK.
So much so that it is now pleading with boarders to check the weather and tides before they set out.
Many get blown out to sea by offshore winds and don’t have a means to call for help.
Paddleboarding became more popular in lockdown, when people were desperate to get out of the house but were still restricted by social distancing.
Retailers sold out of boards and in the past couple of years there have been more novices on the water.
I continue to be shocked by how bad we seem to be in this country on the sea and our waterways.
We’re an island. Why do we seem to be so devoid of any respect for the ocean?
But the bigger question must surely be: Can there really be anything more boring than standing on a board, trying to keep yourself from falling off and, well, doing nothing much else?
I live fairly near the Thames and I regularly see these sportsmen and women getting up on their tedious boards and paddling off for a dull amble down the river.
How monotonous and silly. Can it really be considered a sport?
I mean, I guess paddleboarding has some strong competition in the boring Olympics.
I’ve just had to endure weeks of listening to Ashes results. Cricket is basically rounders for boring adults.
I’m sure we can still be friends, folks.