Some flotsam and jetsam

Hoorah for Princess Beatrice!
Showing the judgment and humour that has sadly eluded her parents all their life, Princess Beatrice has sold her much maligned RW hat on eBay, to raise money for charity. Could it be that Beatrice is going to show common sense and realism, in spite of her parents? Only a few days ago, Sarah, Duchess of York, was still spouting incomprehensible psycho-babble. "If I had a brand identity, it would be as a global mother." ??? Beatrice said she hoped whoever bought the hat would have as much fun with it as she had.

And hoorah for Twitter while we're about it
So many amusing tweets about the Premiership footballer and his affair with a Big Brother wannabe. There was talk that Ryan Giggs' solicitors were going to sue the 30,000 people on Twitter who had breached the Super Injunction (yep, that includes me). Another wag wrote that Ryan Giggs appears to be the only celebrity not being sued by the "mystery Premiership footballer".

I can't imagine the US owners of Twitter are quaking in their boots knowing that a few plummy English lawyers are apoplectic about their new cash cow, the Super Injunction, being proved worthless.  What can they actually do? They can hardly force the closure of Twitter. I for one am laughing at the way we, the good old British public, is having a laugh at the foibles of a foolish man who tried to cover up his folly by splashing the cash.

The unpredictable nature of cosmetic surgery
No wonder Sarah Jessica Parker has said she won't have cosmetic surgery because she doesn't want to end up looking mad. This week's photos of Marie Helvin, who has always maintained she's had nothing done (yeah, right) show her starting to look somewhat deranged. You'd think that with access to the best plastic surgeons that California has to offer, some of the maturing filmstars wouldn't look quite so dreadful. Faye Dunaway, for example, or Melanie Griffith  (although thankfully she is a little more restrained these days). It seems a bit of a lottery. You can either look wonderful, like Jane Fonda, Sharon Stone or Demi Moore, or rather weird, like Madonna, Cher, the Bride of Wildenstein and Ivana Trump. It's a pity they don't have a ratings system, like guest houses or Trip Advisor. Maybe that's a great idea for a new website.

Consider yourself atoned, Sarah Duchess of York

I've always been fascinated by Sarah Ferguson or the Duchess of York, depending on which moniker you prefer. She nearly always lets me down though. Let me explain.

When she first exploded on the scene and married Prince Andrew, I thought the exuberant redhead was a lot of fun in a public school girl type way - gungho with lashings of ginger beer. She blew a breath of fresh air through the stuffy old royal establishment. I loved her wedding dress. It fizzed with her energy and character, with all those bees and butterflies on the train. It was far better than Diana's crumpled meringue.

Then it all went horribly wrong. There was the toe sucking business with that revolting Bryant character; Prince Philip called her "worthless", she was divorced, virtually bankrupt and scuttled off to America. Every now and then pictures would surface where she was looking sad at the prospect of her daughters spending Christmas with the Windsors while she was cloistered away in some lodge at the bottom of the garden like an unwanted gnome.

Now matter how much she was derided - and she was - she really turned over a new leaf in America and as a spokesperson for WeightWatchers she has earned respect, her own money and a trim figure which she's kept for over a decade. Her ex-husband meanwhile is still seen as something of a buffoon, travelling the world's golf courses in some tenuous DTI role and carrying on like an ageing lothario.

During this time she's had very little romantic interest, except for some ageing count: unless she's managed to get rid of the paraparazzi, which I very much doubt.

The reason for this becomes clear in an interview in Psychologies magazine. Using the psycho-babble that she always seems to spout, Sarah says that she still hasn't learnt to love herself, so she can't expect someone else to love her.

The magazine points out it's as if she's still trying to atone.

Oh Sarah. I wish you would lighten up. She looks so serious in the photos! Where is that sparky redhead? I wish she could meet someone and have some joy in her life. But she needs to turn her back on all the psychobabble, she really does. Last time she was on TV, it was being interviewed by Pamela Connolly (a psychologist). Sarah, like a lot of needy people, succumbs all too easily to the arguments about how her early years, and a mother abandoning her family, ruined her life. She talks too much about how she put on a mask, how she's now her real self. Stop analysing yourself Sarah and start living! All too soon it becomes too late.