Tag Archives: X-Factor

It’s not about the music

Last night I dragged my sick ass to Raynes Park to watch the cheese festival that is the X-Factor final with Yvonne, Ryan, Michele, Paul, Alex and Justin. It had all come down to Leona Lewis Clone – Alexandra, Irish Chav urchin – Eoghan and riot-inducing boy band – JLS. I kind of hoped none of them would win but of course that is not an option.

The night quickly descended into farce. Rather than taking the pop competition seriously we the conversation centred around Aston from JLS’ weird earlobes, Alex’s interesting obsession with Cheryl Cole, Alexandra’s strange gold dress that made her look like a pregnant vase, whether or not Louis could kill you in your sleep, which member/s of Boyzone/Westlife (why don’t they just combine and call themselves Boylife or Westzone?) was the biggest flamer and if Beyonce really was wearing a string with two fried eggs tied to it around her neck.

flamernastydress

Arguably the best part of the show was the customary exploitation of the dodgiest auditionees who didn’t make the cut. I wonder why these people agree to come on the show to strangle out I Have A Dream. But because they have agreed I suppose it is fair to laugh at the collection of mad grannies, uber-chavs, deluded fatties, drag queens and world’s creepiest Michael Jackson impersonator.

dragsong

In the end it was Alexandra who took the crown in a hail of snot and tears. The girl has got to learn to control her emotions or to find a way to cry that doesn’t make her look like a mentally unstable garden gnome. Now we will all be subjected to her “charming” version of Hallelujah. Jeff Buckley must be turning in his grave.

uglycry

The hilarity over and my tourist visa to the pop world about to expire, I am off to listen to Razia’s Shadow, the fabulously weird new Forgive Durden album. And to wait for a call telling me that Jen is back in Londinium so I can collect her from Victoria and the mayhem can begin.

Got it covered? I wish Leona hadn’t!

I have been enjoying a very relaxing weekend. Although I did end up in The Roxy on Friday, I left before the serious dancing began and was in bed before track of the night was completely lost. I love that place but it is a bit like the Hotel California. Scarily enough I think my biggest reason for leaving had nothing to do with wanting to be responsible about my alcohol consumption or my spending. The reason I left early was because I had been shopping earlier and did not want to lose track of my precious Topshop cargo. Could I BE more of a girl?

I got some Topshop vouchers for my birthday and I am in need of a new coat and some boots and so I had managed to acquire both items at lunchtime. I think both of my choices were a little “unusual” but I’m gonna show them to you and you tell me. (Male readers other than the few who *heart* fashion as much as I do, look away now. I suggest cracking open a beer and watching some of the sport of your choice).

This is the coat. I am aware that it has a velvet bow around the neck, which is a bit controversial. But it is tartan (ah tartan lust… it knows no bounds) and the cut is incredible. It’s like it was made for me.

My new coat

I also bought these “shit-kickin” biker boots. There is nothing elegant or glamorous about them. They’re like leather wellies. But… I *loves* them. I’ve always wanted a pair of don’t mess with me boots. I’m a rock chick! I suppose they suit my mishmash style. Plus they can be worn to work everyday and will last forever.

shitkickinbikerboots

Thanks team birthday for providing me with these two new staples for my winter wardrobe!

Anyway now that I’ve finished my clothing show and tell… how about the X-Factor. I know it’s uber lame but I love the X-Factor. Largely for the total bitch element where you can rant at the contestants and the judges from your position of absolute infallibility on the couch.  Gotta say I was happy with last night’s results. Daniel, the guy who got voted out is the most boring man alive plus there is something about him that reminds me of my somewhat chavvy ex and not in a good way. My two favourites – Cuter-than-the-Andrex-puppy, Eoghan and Cassie-with-a-microphone, Diana are still in. Diana is the first contestant in the history of reality music shows (which I always get addicted to) whose album I might buy one day. Although this got less than 100% flattering judge response, I was mesmerised. Check it out.

What had me in a state of spitting rant last night was Leona Lewis performing a cover of Snow Patrol’s Run, which I think she has released as a single. Now I won’t diss Leona’s voice, however she is about as exciting as a piece of dry toast. If she wants to go around making boring radio-friendly R ‘n B songs about unfortunate kitchen accidents (I keep bleeding? Go and get a plaster and stop whining, love) that’s absolutely fine with me. I don’t listen to mainstream radio so I can avoid them. BUT… Snow Patrol? Arghh! She took this beautiful, haunting, bleak song and turned it into a big diva ballade. I am sure I am going to get a whole bunch of hate mail from people who love Leona (I’ve already pissed off a whoooole bunch of people on YouTube, he he…) but doing covers is a very delicate endeavour and if you can’t get it right, stick to ruining your own songs and leave the bands I love alone! Check it out if you dare.

If anyone wants to hear an example of a good cover done on a song so originally perfect that even thinking of covering it almost requires rock repentance? Check out Gatsby’s American Dream covering The Cure’s Just Like Heaven.

She’s got the X-factor

With London dissolving in torrential, tube-stopping rain, Candice and I decided to abandon all plans that involved leaving the house and OD on reality “talent” shows. Saturdays are good for that kind of thing, offering up Strictly Come Dancing and X-Factor. Candice and I, however, do not watch for the talent… we watch for the joy of judging everyone who appears, sinking into a nice warm blanket of bitchery. Comments last night included:

  • What the hell is she wearing? She looks like a Quality Street toffee!
  • Those dancers look like gay Miami vice being performed in the zoo.
  • They shouldn’t have put her in a corset, it’s just shoved all her flab out the bottom.
  • He’s leering at her like a dirty old man. Gross!
  • It’s all a bit High School Musical
  • I can’t believe she’s taken her shoes off. She just looks like a man in a dress anyway.

I am going to miss Candice very much. She is leaving on Tuesday to join her fiancé in Jordan for good. Originally the move was going to happen a little further down the line but Cands has been offered the job of a lifetime editing the Middle East’s answer to Cosmo… lucky girl! So goodbye to nights of pouting, singing crimps and obsessing about band boys! Good luck, chick… its going to be very quiet without you!