Liz Jones is the Daily Mail’s hait-bait: Samantha Brick and Kate Middleton get trolled
WHEN Liz Jones read about Samantha Brick, the woman set up to be the Daily Mail’s go-too hate figure of the day, she knew she had to step up her game. At the morning editorial, the paper’s misogynistic editors looked at the usual faces – Brick, Platell, Moir, The White Witch, Cruella de Vil, Lady Macbeth – and wondered which would pen the troll-bait. And then in stepped Liz Jones, dressed in a blazer and air stewardess scarf. Her hair is pushed back behind one ear. She clasps her hands over her stomach. She smiles. And the blind man at the back of the room screams, “Lumme! It’s Kate Middleton.”
Liz will be the tabloid tampon soaking by bile and vitriol. She will be make a ridiculous, self-aggrandising statement – “Is Liz Jones turning into Kate Middleton? – and have her breasts and mind appraised by a willing commentariat eager to stick the knife in and in and in and keep on plunging until the story bleeds all over the internet and makes the Mail famous on Twitter, Facebook and beyond.
Says Liz who has for added ridicule dresses in the same clothes as 20-years-younger Kate for four compare and contrasts:
I’d been transformed into none other than the Duchess of Cambridge. ‘All you need is a giant sapphire!’ typed my best friend. ‘What has happened to you: the big hair, the tiny legs, the even smaller waist?’ wrote another. ‘Wow!’ was the one-word email from another friend.
Even smaller waist? That’s line thats set Liz up as a target early doors. It hints at her being desirably thin, but not too thin. She is on a pedestal, there to be shot at.
Wow indeed. If I have morphed into a Middleton, then there are a lot worse things I could be. Kate is unbelievably beautiful. She is 20 years my junior. She exudes from every tiny pore a wholesome niceness.
Just like Liz. Ladies, dip your pens in ink and do write in. Tell the Mail what a delusional dog Liz is and and how she’s unfit to licks Kate’s boots.
She is not a flirt, a la Carla Bruni; she is not sexy or ridiculously demure and shy, like a young Diana.
Lix means flirt like Samantha Brick. This, after all, is an article published with Brick’s carefully constructed hate-bait in mind.
She is not boisterous and horsey, or impossibly, off-puttingly posh. No, our Kate is resolutely middle-class. She is hard-working. I can sniff her gimlet-eyed ambition.
Nice. Liz Jones gets to knock Kate, the woman she apes. The readers will love that. Tell them Kate is pushy and ambitious. Women hate other women to be ambitious, it reads like a slight, an insult.
I hadn’t realised it before, but we are shockingly alike in our approach to life. We both want nice things. We want to escape our ordinary past (mine, Chelmsford, Essex; hers, Bucklebury, Berkshire). We believe in fairytale romance.
So says Liz who harvested her lover’s sperm in a condom and then squirted it into her vagina.
So, yes, I might have Kate’s morals and determination, but do we really look alike?
Well, you are both breathing, white with dark, long hair, two hands, two arms, two legs, a waist, feet and teeth. So. Yws You are alike…to a passing crocodile or Martian. To them you are dead-ringers.
Have I unwittingly aped her style: all low-heeled patent pumps, jersey wrap dresses and long, Dallas-worthy locks?
Again. Liz puts herself on a higher plain. Her hair, like her waist, is enviable. She then has another go at Kate:
Like Samantha Cameron and Victoria Beckham — two other glossy, high-achieving brunettes — Kate seems to have bought into the idea that being in the public eye, being photographed from every angle, means being incredibly thin.
I’d wager she is smaller than I am, which is a size eight…
Boo! Hiss. Thin bitch!
Why is Kate’s enviable tiny waist worrying? Because impressionable women, those not protected by a great family, love or self-esteem, will have looked at Kate in those skinny jeans as she played hockey in flats the other day and thought: ‘I want to look like that.’
Kate Middleton is a danger to the young. Liz, now desperate to be loathed, blows her own Brick:
Kate and I have big heads (with large, intelligent brains). She gets her hair done at Richard Ward, on the King’s Road, but I favour Louise Galvin, who is responsible for keeping Samantha Cameron conker-coloured.
Come on, readers. Dig deep. Hate her. Really hate her. Give the Mail what it wants: misogyny and then a follow up story about how women are hated and treated unfairly.
Oh, and in case you missed the bit about Liz “juggling her credit cards” to make ends meet, she reminds us how rich she is:
My dentist on Harley Street knows Kate’s dentist on Harley Street. My dentist has given me a set of ‘natural veneers’, at a cost of £10,000, made from porcelain.
Yeah, Liz has got teeth made from the same stuff as your toilet. Drop your knickers and take aim…