Anyway that’s off the point. Here’s one of Jane’s workout vids where she get Lilien to sing Do It. Tragically I remember all the words. I also remember my intense dislike of the exerciser wearing the stupid white visor. I hate visors–white or otherwise. And why does anyone need a visor inside? Wonder what she looks like now and if she’s still wearing that stupid white visor.

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This is my weekly column from the

Can you touch type? Kudos. Big merit to you. Well it would be a big merit if you were completing the 100 Point Behaviour Test for Teenagers formulated in 1953 by Dr George Crane.

I’ve always thought touch-typing to be a necessary skill. Not sure that it contributes to the worth of a 2011 teenager though. Actually I wish I had the skill of fast texting that all teenagers inherit at birth. The skill that lays dormant and festering through childhood and then manifests itself in a frenzy of thumb tapping to sent out at lightning speed searching messages like “wazzup” on their thirteenth birthday. Me, I use the keyboard on my phone to send the equally searching but beautifully punctuated “How are you?” Fortunately (for my street cred) I have abandoned the emicon. That was a very lame period of my life.

Anyway back to the meritorious behaviour of the 1953 teen. Regular church attendance will score you ten merits, but showing racist behaviour—well that gets you a big demerit of five points. But being a racist is nowhere as bad as “illicit sexual relations” which earns the horny teen a whopping twenty demerit points. Let this be a lesson in moderation to you young people.

OK, I know you’re just dying to know other ways that the 1953 teen could redeem themselves. So here’s an incomplete list: play a musical instrument, sing in a choir (I’m sensing a theme), has operated a newspaper route , teach a Sunday school class, asks to be excused when leaving the table early, depends on the alarm clock to get up instead of mamma, knows how to swim and wipes toothpaste specks from the mirror. That’s a diverse list of requirements.

The list of demerits is equally varied. The errant teen: flirts while on a date or is a “two timer”, cheats at school, fails to clean the comb after using it, is grumpy or caustic in the morning and accepts foolish dares to please others (planking on railings anyone?).

Anyway in the interests of recapturing my lost youth, and the absence of any willing teenagers prepared to tell me the truth, I conducted the test on myself. I’ll tell you now I fell down on all the church and prayer stuff and the profanity bit and that whole thing about drinking alcoholic beverages and gambling. I also failed on all the musical merits. I did try singing in a choir, once, and I was so bad that they asked me to do the big smile and mouth the words. This suggestion has been repeated when I sing karaoke.

I did excel at the household chores though. I regularly take the garbage out without nagging, I can prepare an entire meal on my own and I know how to swim. I never stick gum under the table and have stayed away from home for a week. Whew—at least I got some in the positive column.

Anyway I’ve totted up my score and let’s just say I failed. Apparently I have the emotional intelligence of a kindergartner. The children of 1953 must have been very virtuous, or maybe this test is a crock.

Does Guitar Hero count as playing a musical instrument? Image

It’s like stepping back in history, isn’t it?  So who are they?  Top to bottom: Michael Jackson and Paul McCartney; Grace Kelly and Audrey Hepburn; Sophie Loren and Jane Mansfield (don’t you just love the look on Sophia’s face?).

This is my from my weekly Gen X Girl column in the Townsville Bulletin’s Savvy magazine.

Have you noticed that children, especially babies, are the new black? They’re everywhere. Once upon a time celebrities used to accessorise their outfits with gigantic handbags and saucer-sized sunnies but now they just casually sling their offspring across their shoulder and away they go.

Take the newest Beckham progeny, Harper. Posh Beckham has carted that one to every fashion event since it was born two months ago. I naively assumed that was because the baby was a girl and Victoria was trying to imprint fashion on it’s brain, but I think it may have been more about saying “see this is why I was fat. I can produce my own baby so nah nah to the rest of you who take the easy way out and adopt from Zanzibar”. But maybe I’m being judgmental. Victoria went through a lot for that baby. Slipped a disc, had to wear flats for a day. Poor pet.

Anyway Harper was really taken with New York Fashion Week. It’s true, Mrs B said so. “We went to Prada yesterday and she love it. It was as if she was saying, ‘Mummy, I’m home’.” It was probably just wind.

See I’m thinking it’s not the female offspring thing that is part of it. Celebrity stylist Rachel Zoe drags her poor infant son to the opening of an envelope. There is he is, poor little Skylar (promise I did not make that up), dolled up in his Cartier blankie sitting in the front row of London Fashion Week. So who’s going to grow up with a very pronounced lisp?

Suri Cruise, Tom’s little angel, has a wardrobe worth more than the GDP of the USA. This five year old has handbags from Gucci, high heels from Prada and discreet Burberry lining in all her coats. I this OK for a child? I think not. She wears red lipstick, blush and a surly demeanour. I feel like pushing her in a sandpit, but she wouldn’t know what to do.

How about Tavi, Vogue editor Anna Wintour’s new bestie? Tavi—that sounds exotic doesn’t it—all Russian with attitude. Well the attitude’s there, but that’s probably because she’s a teenager. Yes, one the of the most influential fashion bloggers in cyberspace is a 15 year old with four years of experience on board. Yep, she started when she was 11.

It’s not only the fashion world where children are making their mark because celeb offspring are big in the world of entertainment. And they don’t come much bigger than Willow Smith, the most annoying child on the planet. Not only is Willow an irritating person, but she is responsible for the world’s most annoying song I Whip My Hair Back and Forth. Actually I’m cranky at myself for mentioning that song because now I will spend the rest of the week singing the stupid thing.

Willow’s happy with the song’s success though saying she’s pleased all that hard work has paid off. Oh sweetie, you’re 11. You don’t know what hard work is you obnoxious brat. Go back to school and learn your algebra.

Another thing:  Check out Suri Cruise’s burn book.  Sort of seems wrong to laugh at a child but it’s very, very funny. Image

There are certain things that are meant to go together. Things like fish and chips, Romeo and Juliet, salt and pepper, Queensland teams and victory, but Tracy Grimshaw and Lady Gaga? Sorry I just didn’t see it.

OK, big misassumption on my behalf because they were just great together. Instant BFFs when they met for their TV interview on Monday night. First up was mutual clothes complimenting, which was particularly generous on Lady Gaga’s behalf considering that Tracy had raided her Nana’s closet for her outfit. They may have giggled that wide shoulders were from the 80s but that suit had vintage written all over it and I just know Tracy got it from the good clothes section of her wardrobe. Tracy laughed that it made her butt look smaller. She’s a joker that one.

Wasn’t it a lovely girly moment when Tracy pointed out that Gaga had lippy on her teeth? There should be more of that consideration between girls. Although no one wants to hear that they have been traipsing toilet paper around behind them or that their skirt is tucked into their undies, it’s important that someone lets us know. So here’s to the sisterhood and the good example set by Tracy and Gaga. Girls make it your mission to carry on this behaviour so that no woman should ever again have lippy on their teeth or a booger hanging out of their nose.

Now Gaga, or should that be Lady, is a bit of a champion when it comes to the anti-drug message. Doesn’t do drugs she says. And we could be all sniffy and go yeah right, until she pops out with her next classic line that says while she doesn’t do drugs she does do drink. Sure all the anti-alcohol wowsers will be condemning her and her drinking message and blah blah blah role model but good on her—at least she’s not a hypocrite.

You may not know this but Gaga has developed her own diet and exercise plan. She calls it the Drunk Diet. This is what she said.

“I am on the drunk diet. I live my life as I want to, creatively. I like to drink whiskey and stuff while I am working. But the deal is I’ve got to work out every day, and I work out hung over if I am hung over. And it’s about the cross-training and keeping yourself inspired. I have to say, I do a ton of yoga.”

Last time I tried to do yoga drunk I dislocated my shoulder. It involved a complicated headstand that should never have been attempted under the influence of wine—but then I’m no Lady Gaga.

But this is why I really think Gaga is awesome. After Tracy’s dodgy question about homosexual marriage and Julia Gillard, Gaga made the assumption that the prime minister was gay. Imagine thinking that? Gaga avoided a national scandal with a diplomatic answer, but how funny could that have been? Would have taken Julia’s mind right off that nasty old Carbon Tax that’s causing her so much bother.

Imagine, companies like say Nokia would make phone ads with Barba (said love child’s name) as the main feature. And they could clone her and have lots of Barbas.  Image

Well imagine no more as Nokia has done it already. Here’s the clip.

So, would headspinning, tattooed, multiple Barba convince you to buy a phone? That would be no from me.

Actually I invented the most brilliant diet ever, but Lady Gaga’s comes second. My diet consisted entirely of Tim Tam biscuits, coffee and port. I lost loads of weight but there was that whole thing with being hypey, covered with zits and mostly drunk for three weeks.

Lady Gaga’s is somewhat similar. Here’s a how to for the Drunk Diet.

“I am on the drunk diet. I live my life as I want to, creatively. I like to drink whiskey and stuff while I am working. But the deal is I’ve got to work out every day, and I work out hung over if I am hung over. And it’s about the cross-training and keeping yourself inspired. I have to say, I do a ton of yoga.”

How amazing is Lady Gaga? She can do yoga drunk.  I went to yoga one Sunday afternoon with a half a bottle of wine under my belt. My instructor kept asking what happened to my sense of balance as I face-planted attempting The Tree. Image  I don’t go on Sundays anymore.

I’m shocked. Firstly that Katy’s mother is a preacher and secondly that someone who likes to tell us all how to live by God’s word wants to trash her own daughter in print. But that’s just me.

Anyway, guess what the worst, the most despicable thing that Katy has done to horrify preacher mum? Katy showed the top of her boobs. Not the whole boob mind you, just the tops. This is what she said.

‘Katy stepped out from behind the changing doors in a tiny risqué costume,’ she recalled.
‘No mother wants to see the top of her daughter’s boobs. My first instinct was to order her back behind those doors and demand she put something else on.
‘However, I had no problem letting my eyebrows say what I wouldn’t allow my mouth to utter.’

Gosh, she’s lucky that she’s not my mother. I show the tops of my boobs all the time and I’ve got a few years worth of droop on mine. Somehow showing the tops of one’s boobs, doesn’t really seem that shocking does it? It’s not like say flashing your bits like Paris Hilton.

But that’s not all Ms Perry Hudson is upset about. She’s apparently not a big fan of Russell Brand. Surprising that. Can’t see what she doesn’t like about him, though I think he’s hysterical and strangely clever, but maybe  it could have something to do with all that swearing, oversharing and previous addictions, but I’m just guessing here.

Anyway just to be clear here, Ms Perry Hudson’s intentions are noble. She just wants to save Katy from herself. That’s lovely isn’t it. I thought it was all about making money, but apparently I’m wrong. It’s about the boobs. Image