The problem with Palestine’s showbiz supporters
One of the many reasons I hate wokers is because they indulge so shamelessly in what Bebel coined ‘the socialism…
The problem with ‘role models’
Who needs role models anyway?
Must we always be treated as infants by a monstrous regiment of scolds?
What an awful title. Something we hacks are forever saying (along with ‘Make mine a double’ and ‘Is it still…
Bristol is now a hotbed of ‘ventrification’
Why privileged protestors flock to Bristol
Confessions of a lifelong bitch
The return of the bitch is long overdue
What’s happened to all the lesbians?
Where have all the lesbians gone?
Bad influence: Instagramming from Dubai isn’t ‘work’
Instagramming from Dubai isn’t ‘work’
A Priti poem: an ode to the Home Secretary
Priti Patel, Ms Priti Patel, Burnished by sunshine of far Israel, How we all cheered when on Marr you did…
How we laughed: the golden days of Bananarama
Saying you don’t like Bananarama is like saying you don’t like summer or Marilyn Monroe — a sure sign of…
Dining, swimming, therapy: why is everyone obsessed with going ‘wild’?
Our worship of the ‘wild’ has gone too far
How did I get Meghan so wrong?
I have many fine qualities – but being a good judge of character is not one of them. Put me…
The old monster Elton John appears charmingly self-deprecating
I don’t care for Elton John. A cross between Violet Elizabeth Bott and Princess Margaret, his temper tantrums are legendary,…
Debbie Harry makes the perfect pop star
My admiration for Deborah Harry goes back a long way and — fittingly for a woman who even as a…
Why is everyone on Facebook so paranoid about their privacy?
There’s a line in Desperately Seeking Susan where Madonna (Susan) reads aloud the diary of Roberta, the bored housewife she…
Pity poor Candace Bushnell, still flogging Sex and the City at 60
On paper, Candace Bushnell and the medieval warlord El Cid don’t have a lot in common. The first made a…
Labour can’t cope with Boris’s BAME cabinet
I’ve never voted Conservative and I never will. Having been raised in a working-class home, I can’t get past the…
Our churches aren’t perfect, but if we lose them we will all be worse off
After hearing about the massacre in Sri Lanka on Easter Sunday, I went to church, happily sang the word God…
Netflix and kill: the creepy obsession with true crime
Thumbing avidly through Heat magazine recently in a fevered search for the latest on the Cheryl/Liam/Naomi infernal triangle, I was…
The day I woke up… to hear that only Tracey Thorn loved me
It’s unusual for musicians to become writers. The trajectory of yearning is meant to be the other way around. When…
Britain has fallen out of love with Italy – as have the Italians
On reading recently that Italian is the fastest disappearing language in America, my thoughts were mixed. I felt fleeting sorrow…
Julie Burchill: Why I’ve given up cocaine
It always amuses me at this time of year to observe the fuss people make about quitting booze for a…
The lost joy of swearing
Upon discovering that Sinéad O’Connor has converted to Islam, I was about as shocked as a Yuletide shopper hearing the…
Julie Burchill is bored by Robin Green’s account of her time at Rolling Stone – and says hippies still stink
The last time I saw a copy of the New Musical Express — the ferociously influential 1970s pop paper which…
Hooray for Meghan Markle, a very modern adventuress
I’m keen on all sorts of my fellow females — broads, gold-diggers, career girls — but the best is the…
Why do the Japanese despise sex?
There are two sorts of people: those who can’t wait to grow up, and those who wish they never had…
