The news of Peaches Geldof’s tragic death at the age of 25 broke yesterday afternoon as I had a wee. Checking my Twitter feed as I had the wee I had been too busy to have for the preceding three hours, I sat in stunned silence for twenty minutes. As I read tweet after tweet from people shocked at this dreadful news.
Yes there were the ones from celebs who knew her but more than that there were tweets, such as mine that simply said “no no no no no, this cannot be true”. Or simply “RIP Peaches”. Or that referred to her beautiful little boys, barely one and two who would now grow up without a mummy.
Then came the statement from Sir Bob. His use of the word “bonkers” broke me. That any father has to make a statement about the death of his own daughter is shocking enough. But for it to be so heartfelt, so raw, so …. well the words caught in my throat. Bonkers is a word we use to describe E. Mr B suggested to her old school when we registered her that it was her middle name.
And then the media circus began.
Sky News broke from normal schedules to report the story live. Yet at that stage there was no real substance to the story. We knew no more, and nor should we. So they to had pad out their show with interviews with journalists, with people who had met her, over the phone. Who, presumably, were dealing with their own emotions since they knew her. One such journalist was on holiday.
One line of questioning from Sky News to Dan Wooton (a showbiz newspaper columnist) included the question: “She liked to party, didnt she?”
Is that a suggestion that this has anything to do with her untimely death?
So what? Don’t we all? God forbid I should ever die in a car accident. Would the line be “She liked a Martini, didn’t she?” The implication being it would automatically be my fault and that I was driving drunk? One thing you will never see me do is drive after having even one drink. I always drive when we go out. Long story about why but drink driving is not something I will ever do.
Why the implication that because Peaches had liked to party this had any bearing now? Was the suggesting being made that this was anything other than god awful accident? It certainly sounded like it to me.
And then later on in the evening. This happened:
Within four hours of the shock announcement being made and we are reading of “25 best looks”. One for each year of her life? Best looks? As opposed to what?
A woman has died and this is what Cosmo come up with? Two little boys are waking up today without their mummy? Sir Bob Geldof is planning another funeral. Tom Cohen has lost the wife he worshipped? Pixie and Fifi have lost another family member whom they adored? And this is what Cosmo are printing?
Not “Our 25 favourite pics from Peaches’ instagram feed where she shared gorgeous photos of her boys” or a beautifully penned tribute piece.
And it isn’t even a showcase of “25 looks”. There is a pic of her kneeling in sawdust at London Zoo. Much younger and strolling with her dad. A zoomed in shot of her at a pub table enjoying a family lunch. These aren’t looks. This not a retrospective with any kind of dignity attached to it.
It’s just a crass crappy piece thrown together to jump on the bandwagon and all they could come up with is a photo montage of her in various outfits. With a headline that suggests these are the best 25 and they had to sift through hundreds of bad outfits to find these.
That right now this is what is important. Is it <insert rude four letter word>
What a shitty piece of magazine writing that is. And I am not one to really swear on this blog but that really made me cross last night. A poor woman has died and that is all they can come up with?
Have some respect Cosmopolitan. You used to be a great, slightly edgy magazine. Now? Well now you have sunk to a new low. Is this really all you can find to say about a life cut so tragically short?