There was a time when the ultimate celebrity accoutrement was fragrance. An actress or singer would reach the apogee of her fame, and salute the event by bottling her very essence. Oh, lucky fans! Simply by purchasing a bottle of Britney's 'Curious Kitten', Beyonce's 'I can move my hips in a way that you can't and you'll only look stupid if you try' or Kylie's 'I''m small yet perfectly formed', they too could experience some of the glamour of stardom. Not to mention being able to smell like their favourite stars. Interestingly, such perfumes were never called by that name - no no, for these little luxuries, only the most delicate terms - think 'fragrance' or 'scent' would do.
But times have changed. Perhaps teenagers have wised up to the fact that it is highly unlikely that their idols walk around smelling of peaches and/or cream soda. Perhaps the realities of a world dragging itself around in the wake of economic depression calls for celebrities to be more down to earth, more authentic: people who also have problems and do normal, everday things. Like cook.
Maybe that's why the pinncale of fame is no longer signified by the release of a 'fragrance', but a cookery tome. Move over Jamie and Gordon: kitchens around the world are now being invaded by film stars. Sophie Dahl, Gwyneth Paltrow and Eva Longoria are the pioneers of the trend, but what's the bet it won't be long until others follow suit.
The strange thing is, none of these women look like they enjoy cooking, let alone feasting on the fruits of their labour. Looking at Gwyneth, all stringy, blonde and reserved, I have trouble imagining her table to be anything but ascetic. Forget gigantic platters overflowing with foods that beg desccription: it seems more likely that you'd gett a slap on the wrist if you so much as asks for a second lettuce leaf. As for Eva - true, her Latino heritage seems to hint at nights spent wolfing down enchiladas and tacos. But it really is just a hint. I personally think she'd be far more likely to watch others do the wolfing, perhaps with a disdainful look on her face and a snide comment to her sister about how Uncle Alfonse shouldn't let his salsa run down his chin.Taking cullinary advice from these two seems akin to asking Lindsay Lohan for guidance on staying sober.
Looking at the twig-like Gwyneth, it's easy to understand the appeal of Nigella. In the past, I've always pitied Nigella's food for the predatory looks she gives her ingredients as she whips and beats them. I've always thought she looks a little like someone who has managed to lure a hapless widower, still pining for his wife and reluctant to tip his toe into the seething pool of womanhood, on a date, and is now imagining the depraved acts she has in store for him while he's rather whistfully thinking of a night spent with the latest book on management thinking. Then again, seeing the unabashed lust on Nigella's face while she dresses that lettuce, at least you know she luuuuurves food. Which is why I would rather buy her cookbook, than the latest whisper-thin Hollywood celebritu's, any day.
But times have changed. Perhaps teenagers have wised up to the fact that it is highly unlikely that their idols walk around smelling of peaches and/or cream soda. Perhaps the realities of a world dragging itself around in the wake of economic depression calls for celebrities to be more down to earth, more authentic: people who also have problems and do normal, everday things. Like cook.
Maybe that's why the pinncale of fame is no longer signified by the release of a 'fragrance', but a cookery tome. Move over Jamie and Gordon: kitchens around the world are now being invaded by film stars. Sophie Dahl, Gwyneth Paltrow and Eva Longoria are the pioneers of the trend, but what's the bet it won't be long until others follow suit.
The strange thing is, none of these women look like they enjoy cooking, let alone feasting on the fruits of their labour. Looking at Gwyneth, all stringy, blonde and reserved, I have trouble imagining her table to be anything but ascetic. Forget gigantic platters overflowing with foods that beg desccription: it seems more likely that you'd gett a slap on the wrist if you so much as asks for a second lettuce leaf. As for Eva - true, her Latino heritage seems to hint at nights spent wolfing down enchiladas and tacos. But it really is just a hint. I personally think she'd be far more likely to watch others do the wolfing, perhaps with a disdainful look on her face and a snide comment to her sister about how Uncle Alfonse shouldn't let his salsa run down his chin.Taking cullinary advice from these two seems akin to asking Lindsay Lohan for guidance on staying sober.
Looking at the twig-like Gwyneth, it's easy to understand the appeal of Nigella. In the past, I've always pitied Nigella's food for the predatory looks she gives her ingredients as she whips and beats them. I've always thought she looks a little like someone who has managed to lure a hapless widower, still pining for his wife and reluctant to tip his toe into the seething pool of womanhood, on a date, and is now imagining the depraved acts she has in store for him while he's rather whistfully thinking of a night spent with the latest book on management thinking. Then again, seeing the unabashed lust on Nigella's face while she dresses that lettuce, at least you know she luuuuurves food. Which is why I would rather buy her cookbook, than the latest whisper-thin Hollywood celebritu's, any day.
