Jayne Dowle: Give me a break from some celebrity lifestyles

Bear with me. I’ll be as brief as possible. Apparently, Hollywood went to America to launch the US version of the hit BBC2 show and had a bit of a fling with his (younger) co-star. It didn’t work out. Now he’s back with his tail between his legs, begging forgiveness from his wife. And although the transatlantic angle gives it a bit of glamour, his predicament is as predictable as any man of a certain age having his head turned by a pretty young woman.

Why does Hollywood assume that the rest of us are even remotely interested in his personal problems? The presumption that we are all waiting, hearts in mouths, to hear the next instalment is arrogant. Does he not care about the feelings of his wife, or of the American woman he got entangled with? Is there no dignity left in the world? Why can’t people in the public eye just shut up and get on with sorting out their lives instead of foisting their emotional trauma on the rest of us?

It is not news. It is tedious and self-indulgent. Most of us have our own problems to deal with, never mind having to endure public psychodrama from those paid to be famous. This is the same man who thinks it of earth-shattering importance to tell us that he has lost weight despite eating cake. Quick, hold the front page and stand by for the “stuff-your-face-with-rum-babas” celebrity diet plan, book and DVD.

We can try to close our eyes and shut our ears but it’s impossible to block out entirely the cacophony of celebrity wittering and twittering. As I do have a life, I don’t watch much television. I do watch the news though. Even here there is no escape. The other night, a good five minutes of the main BBC bulletin was taken up by David Beckham droning on about his new football club. I like football, don’t get me wrong. Was this extended interview really necessary though? This new club isn’t even in England. It’s in Miami. Surely there were more important things on the news agenda that evening than the foreign business venture of a former player? Yet because it’s Beckham, there’s that presumption again – we will all be riveted.

Beckham says himself that he never wanted to be a celebrity. Yet he colludes in all that celebrity has to offer with his tell-all books and his lucrative product endorsements and his constant parading of his family. Did you know that he takes his kids to ballet? Good for them, but why does he have to tell us?

If I could be bothered to engage my brain on pondering this for more than a few minutes, I would conclude that this kind of over-sharing betrays a deep insecurity which no amount of money can cure. Quick, better make ourselves look more interesting, in case people lose interest. It’s desperate really. Soon there will be youngsters who won’t even remember Beckham actually playing football. They will assume he is a particularly successful male model with a lot of tattoos, good hair and a wife who never smiles. What does that tell us about the substance of the man?

Contrast this limelight-hogging to the quiet style of that other national sporting icon, rugby player Jonny Wilkinson. The World Cup-winning England fly-half married his long-term girlfriend, Shelley Jenkins, in the South of France last week. Where were the paparazzi? The breathless Twitter protestations of this being the happiest day of their lives? The celebrity guest list? There wasn’t even one of those, because the ceremony was attended by only two guests. And I, like millions of others probably, didn’t even know about it until someone told me. Too often we hear famous people whingeing that they simply can’t escape the attention. Wilkinson and his new wife prove that they can if they really want to.

Should you find yourself struggling with fame, here’s my simple advice. Don’t tell anyone where you are going. Don’t employ an army of brand managers and PR gurus to feed the media an endless diet of enticing tit-bits about your latest wedding/emotional trauma/diet plan/aftershave launch. Keep away from Twitter and The One Show. And if it all gets too much for you, poor love, wear dark glasses and a hat. I don’t suppose my words will make any difference to the likes of Paul Hollywood. And it won’t stop silly “fans” from hanging on to his every word as if he was delivering the Sermon on the Mount rather than recipe tips. This is sad to say, but we get the celebrities we deserve. And some of us deserve a break.