Here's (not) looking at you...

The observational among you will have noticed I haven’t Loved to Hate London for a while. Those who read my Underground Overground blog will know it’s because I’ve been ill.  And folk unlucky enough to know me personally will have heard all the gory details – and are probably as sick of my moaning as I am  of, well, being sick.

Not only do I, like everyone, hate feeling lousy, but I’m also atrocious at doing nothing – especially when you feel so crap that all you can manage is dozing in front of daytime telly.  And daytime telly invariably means that at some point you will find yourself flicking over the channel and coming face to face with Jeremy Kyle.

I try to avoid Mr Kyle at all costs but, after day three in front of the box, he found his way into my living room.  Not only do I find him irritating, obnoxious and a lot of other things that I really shouldn’t say in public, but I find his show quite boring.  Whilst my recently retired dad finds it fascinating, sadly my work in the public sector has made the folk televised as they demand their partners take lie detection tests nothing out of the ordinary.  And yes, that probably makes me sound like a terrible snob, but sadly, where I work, airing your dirty laundry in public is not unusual – and, trust me, I’ve seen some cases badly in need of a large dose of Persil.

And whilst I admit I am a snob about Jerry Springer cases, I really can’t stand people at the other end of the spectrum either.  People who love attention as much as the chat show freaks – but seek it in a very different setting.  A couple of weeks ago (in fact the night I got ill) I went to a private viewing at a gallery in Mayfair.  Whilst I found the artwork quite interesting, I got the distinct impression that most of the people there were more interested in being seen than looking at a few pictures and a couple of sculptures – and decidedly ungracious when those of us who wanted to see the wares on show tried to squeeze between them and the cameras.

I think my problem is with people who just want to be seen no matter what the cost.  Wherever they fit on the spectrum of society, they just want to get noticed, for good or bad.  I mean, take fashion.  On Saturday I fought through my fever and went to the V&A Ballgowns exhibition.  I admit, I loved it, and my friend and I had a hoot offering our criticism of the frocks on show to anyone who cared to listen.  But, some of the dresses were just plain hideous – and I honestly think that it wasn’t only in my humble opinion.  Some designers seem to forget aesthetics in the rush to do something different and, whilst some of the more outlandish creations were beautiful too, others had got lost in their need for attention.

So, Londoners, take note.  Whoever you are and wherever you are from, if you want to get noticed, go ahead and get yourself out there.  But, if in doing so you sacrifice your taste, integrity or general decency as a human being, don’t expect me to keep watching whilst you make a spectacle of yourself.