Thursday, 30 August 2007


As promised in penance yesterday, Yo Majesty are today’s Song Of The Day.

They are amazing because they are dykedelic butch Black devout Christians who like to flash their boobies. It’s a thing.

And they sound pretty hot – pre-gangsta-rap electro hip-hop with hooks galore.

Kele from Bloc Party was wearing their T-shirt at Reading last weekend.

They say stuff like this in interviews:

“In San Francisco a girl got on stage and started humping Jwl. She was aiight. But we kept playin’. Jwl started humping her back. The show must go on.”

They’re coming to the UK in October for another tour.



Shocka #1: Mother Teresa was not down with The Almighty.

Shocka #2: Mama T invented emo in 1956:

"Such deep longing for God and ... repulsed empty no faith no love no zeal ... Heaven means nothing pray for me please that I keep smiling at Him in spite of everything."

She is so going to guest on the new Fall Out Boy album.


Wednesday, 29 August 2007


Nnnghgh: Katie Holmes is in talks to star in the Wonder Woman movie. Why is this so irritating? I’m not one for hating on a sister, but she’s kind of on my list. She’s a sponge of a woman, absorbing those around her until she has no identity of her own and then stepping back into meek silence when it’s brought into question. Or she could just be dignified and content. Whatever. I’m picking a side.

This much-mooted big-screen WW will be a huge disappointment if 'Kate Cruise' takes the lead, because it’s hard to see her as anything other than a simpering accessory. But it’ll probably be a huge disappointment even if she doesn’t get it, since Joss Whedon is no longer on board (he left citing the old “creative differences”).

And his leaving the project is a tragedy of modern movies. Seriously. Joss Whedon’s a smart Hollywood player who’ll actually speak up against things he disagrees with. I remembered a post he made to his fansite Whedonesque back in May, an eloquent post about violence against women. It made me do a swoon. Among the highlights:

I watched the trailer for Captivity… Pretty much all you learn is that Elisha Cuthbert is beautiful, then kidnapped, inventively, repeatedly and horrifically tortured, and that the first thing she screams is “I’m sorry”… Women’s inferiority – in fact, their malevolence – is as ingrained in American popular culture as it is anywhere they’re sporting burkhas. I find it in movies, I hear it in the jokes of colleagues, I see it plastered on billboards, and not just the ones for horror movies. Women are weak. Women are manipulative. Women are somehow morally unfinished… [more]

After licking the screen with love, I went back further to a speech Joss gave in 2006 to Equality Now, who recognised his awesomeness with an award. And Meryl Streep only bloody introduces and lauds him. Permanent life motto: if it’s good enough for Meryl, it’s good enough for us. And it's well worth the 10 minutes or so it takes to watch:

This is all a very, very long way of saying that I wouldn’t like Katie Holmes to be Wonder Woman, if that’s alright, thanks. Rebecca


The Famous Five series is being “reimagined” as an adult drama with the crime-busting posh kids all entering middle age.

So a bit like that This Life +10 then, except it’s probably better, because, well, it was the worst programme ever made, ever, in the history of TV, ever.

One thing – George, she of boyish persuasions, had better be banging the beaver drum. She was such a lez.



By we, I mean I. And by holiday, I mean festival fun and then sitting at home watching TV. I really should get the hang of this "I'm not going to be posting" thing before going away, instead of afterwards...

Have this to make up for it...

It's a picture of Yo Majesty! And a sneak preview of what tomorrow's Song Of The Day will be (ie them). Woo!


Thursday, 23 August 2007


We at Polyester love a good airbrush. Three cheers for J-Lo bleached into oblivion; a big hoop-lah for a skeletal Teri Hatcher. If we wanted to see them in the flesh, we'd bloody well stalk them.

So we happily applaud Nicolas Sarkozy, who appears to have had his holiday love handles brushed out by French mag Paris Match. But considering Sarkozy is good mates with Match's owner (and, in the past, he's had an editor fired for revealing his wife Cecilia's affair) we can assume it's all been done in collusion. Which is fine by us...

It's not that Sarkozy looks better a little more toned; body image is so last year. It's that he's got the power to change how he looks on a day-to-day basis: like Mystique from X-Men, but without the blue skin and the uncomfortable fag-hag relationship with Ian McKellen. If you could get touched up digitally, wouldn't you nab the chance? And before you go claiming reality, pictures are real. Nowadays, no-one sees each other in the flesh anymore: mere mortals poke on Facebook, stars communicate via blogs and OK!. A touched-up photo is just as good as plastic surgery and it’s significantly cheaper.

Sarkozy points us to the future. One day we'll all be changing how we look from one day to the next, with none of the hair-colour problems which beset poor Esther Rantzen. Amen. Louis


On the Polyester playlist this fine morning:

Late Of The Pier - Bathroom Gurgle

As usual, it is over there.

And here is the artwork.

And here is their website.

Wednesday, 22 August 2007


This recent Paris Hilton pap shot - is she auditioning for the lead in Mommie Dearest 2?

Let's take a closer look:

[via x17]



What do you buy the prostitute with everything? A pair of sat-nav safety wedges, of course. The Aphrodite Project has built a prototype shoe that’s a safety device, an advertising tool and a killer pair of heels.

The ‘Platform 001’ comes with noble intentions. The heels hide a multitude of handy features like an alarm wired straight to local police, a hidden compartment for money and keys, a screen that links to a ‘problem client blog’ and even a fully-functional GPS system.

But our favourite feature is the built-in screen’s secondary purpose: ‘promotion’. There’s a demonstration of how you can upload a nice video of flowers and statues, along with your phone number, so you can advertise your services while simultaneously engaging in them. Not sure exactly how that works, unless you’re hanging your feet out of a car window…

OK, OK, so it’s a “social sculpture”, and is making a point rather than touting itself as a viable product. But still, wouldn’t this be brilliant on Dragons’ Den? Rebecca

[The Aphrodite Project, via ShinyShiny]


Our song of the day is...

Nirvana - Been A Son

As this post title cunningly suggests, we're posting a different song we like every day. You'll be able to stream it in the cassette over there on the right. Retro!



From Reuters:

“The illegitimate daughter of late President Francois Mitterrand is raising eyebrows in France with a novel that some accuse her of basing on a gruesome real-life case of child murder…”

Stories like that: yet another reason j’adore la France.

[via Yahoo]


News trickles in of a planned 50 Cent diet product range (“Hey ladies, wanna look like a hulking beefcake of shot-up flesh and muscle?”), to add to his imminent “Formula 50 GlacĂ©au Vitaminwater”. But, like much of Fiddy’s output, product endorsement has been done before, and better.

I give you… Snoop’s Dogg Pets.

The black Dogg-Father hoodie:

The polyester/cotton-blend T-shirt:

And the boom-box dog toy with sound chip:

A word of advice for G-Unit – stop ballsing about with beverages and get into animal clothing. Rebecca

Tuesday, 21 August 2007


You’ve got to admire a piece about kids’ clothing that declares “baby goes Bauhaus” with a poker-face. Good old Vogue’s Most Wanted Of The Week is onto the little ones and they want you to splash a lot of cash. It’s just so hard to know whether to choose between the £300 cashmere blanket...

...or the £400 embroidery of baby's most favouritest drawing.



Ultimate televangelist Tammy Faye Messner’s recent passing must have put a dent in the world’s mascara market (if only from the drop-off in her purchases alone). Luckily, the woman and her slap have been commemorated in the form of the Tammy Faye eyelash necklace – containing real human hair.

Is it wrong to desperately want one?

[CoolHunting, via Jezebel


She probably covered up the “I’d rather” and “than wear fur” parts and walked around the city rounding up men.

[via Perez Hilton]


Monday, 20 August 2007


Being in the right place and time for other people’s misfortune often pays dividends. Last Friday night (17/8/07), I ended up with two places on the John Waters Masterclass at the NFT in London. How pleasing that the original ticket-holders had injuries/troubles/problems too severe to leave the house etc.

The wisdom of John Waters knows no bounds.

I should’ve smuggled in a tape recorder or at the very least a pencil, but I was too busy sitting stock-still with a grin plastered on my stupefied face to think of it. I couldn’t move through sheer happiness, and despite seeming like the most important words ever uttered, well, I forgot a lot of what was said. But here’s what stuck in my mind.

Myra Hindley
“I swear the only reason she got as long as she did was because she didn’t get her roots done. She’d be out by now if she’d had her hair fixed.”

Lindsay Lohan
John said Lindsay should have gone to acting rehab, for the magnificently awful I Know Who Killed Me. He claimed that the latest breed of ‘troubled’ starlets don’t interest him because they haven’t done anything worthy of the attention. He prefers the likes of his own stars, such as Patty Hearst and Traci Lords. Paris/Lindsay/Nicole/Britney - you're nothing without armed robbery/underage porn to your name.

John said he wanted to cover a new sexual practice in every movie, and explained that he was still discovering fetishes. The gay bar in Pecker, for example, recently started allowing its go-go boys to dance with erections – hence teabagging turned into helicoptering.

…and blossoming
But that’s nothing next to blossoming – the fetishisation of anal prolapses. Pictures are swapped online, and men compete for the biggest ‘blossom’. Ouch.

Of course Baltimore took up a lot of the evening, but one anecdote stands out. John recalled talking to a man in a bar, and after a while he asked him what he did. “You want me to tell you?” asked the man. “Yes,” said John. “I swap deer meat for crack,” replied his companion.

The future of Hairspray
JW was very tactful on the new Hairspray movie, and praised everything from casting to execution. He also explained how schools are starting to perform the musical, and it pleases him because it means the fat girl and the boy who drags up are getting the lead roles. He went on to talk about how his mother told him about a local school production, “and it was an all-retarded school. I’d really love to have seen it. I mean the fat thing, the gay thing, they’ve been done. All-retarded versions will bring back the edge”.

Oh, and he’s really into K-Fed, and would like him to be in his next movie.

And he was ordained as a priest during the filming of Cry Baby, so he could marry Johnny Depp and Winona Ryder. Though that didn’t happen, he used his new ecclesiastical status to baptise Traci Lords.

It was pretty much the best night of my life. Rebecca


They were tired of Bond Street and Bluewater, but the Beckhams' migration to greener pastures hasn't quite gone to plan. Launching their new life with a 'real-life' documentary that bombed and expecting to be greeted with open arms, the gruesome twosome have now been given the accolade of their very own American moniker.

The plastic imports' endearing new name is “a fag and his hag”. Strong words from a west coast community that worships at the shrine of Paris Hilton, metrosexuality and preened hardbodies. It begs us to ask, what went wrong?

It couldn't have been their unerring arrogant confidence that they’d take the witless Americans by storm with their quaint British charm? We're torn between a) laughing heartily at the joke, and b) hoping that America will repent and give them a belated warm welcome.

Not really. We're enjoying the Atlantic distance. Tsouni


New Manics b-sides:

Heyday Of The Blood
You Know It's Going To Hurt
Lady Lazarus


Thursday, 16 August 2007


The new Dazed cover looks even better than the one we invented in our heads when we heard Amy Winehouse was going to front US Vogue (AW went with Sienna instead – bore off etc).

[via Fashion Insanity]


A couple of years ago I broke my leg and ended up convalescing in a house with a 4-year-old who had a dictatorial reign over the TV remote. I watched a lot of CBeebies: Balamory, Big Cook Little Cook, Bob The Builder (obviously) and mine and the little one’s favourite, Boogie Beebies. For the uninitiated, Boogie Beebies’ hosts Nat and Pete make you dance to songs like Pirate Gang and Go Go Mango. I didn’t do much dancing. I was crippled. Keep up. But the point is, the little one did, and he loved it.

It was the best show on CBeebies by miles. Grown-up dancing is mostly rubbish because it’s all posing and posturing for others to see, but kids just throw themselves around because it feels good, and it’s the nicest and funniest thing in the world.

And then today I watched a YouTube clip of MIA teaching her dance moves to the kids on the wonderful Pancake Mountain. This led to a couple of hours of online PM catch-up, as the show’s been running since 2003 and has had everyone from Metric to Scissor Sisters to Arcade Fire to Juliette Lewis to… well, it’s had everyone. If Top Of The Pops had got a goat called Rufus Leaking to present and roped an audience of under-fives in, it might have stood a fighting chance.

The show’s creator, Scott Stuckey, got the show together in 2005. It airs sporadically on public access TV in Washington, though you can buy DVDs of episodes from the website. “Good music is good music no matter what your age,” he reasons. That’s true. But there are other reasons why a music show for kids works much better than one for adults.

First, stupid interview questions elicit the best responses. They’re more probing. They catch people off-guard and there’s no way bands will have a stock answer prepared for something like, “Where do you park the mothership?” (as Rufus once asked George Clinton). And they’re funny. I’m not interested in, “Tell me about your new album.” But I appreciate Rufus asking Shirley Manson, “Are you even happy when it’s a little bit cloudy?” I suspect she does, too.

Second, bands like White Stripes and Shonen Knife are childlike in so many ways that when they played the show, it looked like they’d come home. They loved it. Gigs should be made compulsory for under-10s and illegal for anyone older. Pancake Mountain’s Dance Parties prove this point.

And third, don’t you wish this was around when you were a kid? That you could say, “oh I was on TV playing drums with Iggy Pop when I was 6, and then Fugazi taught me to spell”. No? Shut up. You do a bit.

Here are some good bits from the show.

1. Metric hosting a Monster Hospital singalong.

2. Scissor Sisters doing karaoke to Aretha Franklin with Rufus.

3. Jenny Lewis really, really enjoying her Dance Party.

Buy DVDS for the young ones in your life, or else pretend you know some kids, buy it and then watch it yourself. It’s so good that it made me a bit sad for everything else. Rebecca

Wednesday, 15 August 2007


I’m half way through the excellent book How Sassy Changed My Life: A Love Letter To The Greatest Teen Magazine Of All Time (henceforth referred to as: snip it, wordy!). With all the anecdotes about Kim Gordon, Spike Jonze and fighting the religious right through make-up advice, kind of, it makes me wish I was in My So-Called Life, wearing floaty grunge dresses, swooning at Jordan Catalano and subscribing to Sassy, which I’m not sure Angela did, but she obviously would’ve, in the nixed second series.

This loving homage is inspirational because it showed that a genuinely cool mag could shift copies and make money. But maybe that’s why I haven’t been able to get to the end, when those wholesome dreams are crushed by big bad corporate things.

Ah, well. There’s no point in hopeless nostalgia, especially when the future’s all online and that. I’m into AOL’s teen site Red. Loving that inspirational content…especially The 20 Ugliest Celebs

Hrngh! Hrngh! Hold up. Mariah Carey’s at number 20, and nobody puts Mimi in a corner. And who’s that? Kelis? Courtney Love?

Let’s look at their reasons, and despair for our youth.

KELIS: Holy hell ... Kelis is not bringin' any boys to the yard looking like that. There have been rumors that she is really a man, and quite frankly we are thinking something's not right with this chick. Every time we see her she has her mouth open and looks like she's ready to eat us. She's scary. Next time we see her, we are looking for the Adam's apple.

COURTNEY LOVE: Talk about a total trainwreck. This woman is about as ugly and classless as it can get. Courtney Love is quite frankly a donkey. We cannot even find anything slightly redeeming about her. Maybe if she gets help for the drug abuse, then she can work on cleaning herself up. But it's going to take A LOT of work!

Polyester smells libel… come on, C-Love, get the lawyers out.

But I’m OK with it. I’m just going to move on and tuck into… Celebrities Without Make-Up and Worst Celebrity Smiles. Teen AOL, you are awesome. Rebecca

[via Defamer]


Not since Kerry Katona’s knife-robbery trauma got half a page in The Guardian have we been so bemused by news-folks’ priorities.

According to the BBC, Sandie Shaw, the Eurovision-winning, Puppet On A String chanteuse, has had corrective surgery on her “ugly” feet.

Sienna Miller might be playing Margaret Thatcher in a new film and yet the Beeb went bigger on Sandie Shaw’s deformed toes. The detail is remarkable:

* She got a pair of “huge, geisha-style shoes” upon discharge

* She was also given “condom-like rubber leg tubes to shower in” and “a self-propelled wheelchair”

* Bandages were taken off two weeks after the op, and her feet are “swollen, misshapen, yellow and bruised”

* Her nurse has encouraged SS to “bond with my new feet, to massage, moisturise and get familiar with them”

* She will unveil her new toes in October

Thanks for that, Auntie.


Reading “Jodie Foster is on the new cover of More” from Perez Hilton on the old RSS sent us all a-flutter.

Alas, it is not “Coleen’s Wag Tit Wank Special!” More.

It is American oldie mag More...



Tuesday, 14 August 2007


Here at Polyester, Feist is near the top of our long list of lady loves. In fact, we’ve got an interview with her to post at some point soon, whenever a good afternoon’s transcribing is on the cards. It’s funny and everything.

Feist recently replaced the content on her website with a hand-written note, since she felt had become “a robot with a paper mask of my face on it”.

Read the full note after the jump, because it’s very charming, and compounds that Feist crush that didn’t really need compounding in the first place.

And keep your eyes peeled for that interview.


Meryl Streep stars in new anti-war film Lions For Lambs, reports The Guardian. Or not, because they’ve buried that juicy little Streep nugget in some piece about Hollywood breaking tradition by making explicitly White-House-critical films. As headlines go, what’s wrong with ‘Meryl’s got a new film out’? Say what you mean, journos.

FYI: Charlotte Gainsbourg loves Meryl Streep. She likes The Deer Hunter and Kramer vs Kramer best, and watched The Devil Wears Prada, which she thought was “funny”.

That’s all. That really is all, I just set up this stupid page expansion thing and I can't turn it off. Sorry. Posts will be longer from now on, to make the most of it. Like this. La la la la la, here's a few more lines...


Worldwide news authorities – alright, daily must-read Jezebel – are reporting that Australian lad-rag ZOO is giving away a boob-job to one lucky reader’s girlfriend. “It’s the gift that keeps on giving,” editor Paul Merrill said in a statement.

This lady-blogger once worked at the Brit ZOO (first job, not proud, alright ma?), edited by one Paul Merrill, where they – wait for it – ran a controversial competition for a reader to win his girlfriend a boob job.

Here’s how it played out for him first time round.

The Advertising Standards Authority has ruled that the contest to "win your lady a brand new set of expertly crafted tits" breached its codes on responsible advertising and told the publisher, Emap, not to repeat the approach.

But that was almost two years ago, damn it, and the ASA didn’t, like, say Australia in the ruling or anything. So it’s round two, ding! ding!, thanks for the publicity... and a massive bore-off yawn from us.


Since the halcyon days of C4 Friday night Roseanne, all Polyester contributors have loved the great Ms Barr. And Darlene… well, Darlene is responsible for a lot of misdemeanours, and is the greatest portrayal of teenagedom seen on TV. But we digress.

Roseanne is still working that comedy circuit, but she’s also now moonlighting as a socialist nut farmer in Hawaii with a free and easy approach to blogging. For reals.

She got in a little beef with Perez Hilton recently, who called her out on drunk-blogging (cannily deciphering phrases like, “[I’m] drunk as a fucking skunk tonight”). Rosie responded by implying that she’d like to shoot him with an actual gun. In fact, the gun-loving’s the only strange thing here, considering she’s so vehemently anti-war. Anyway, select highlights that make Roseanne our new hero:

*I am only at the pee in your pants stage of old ladyism, but look forward to having a huge head in the future. I have seven pigs on my farm and want to eat them! They hide in the grass and hump each other when they think I am not looking...I am getting a shotgun tomorrow, not for the piggies, but just to have, though I wonder if my past mental illnesses will make getting a gun tougher?

*religion: child molesting, woman hating closet cases, money grubbing insurance whores

*I am with the Goddess Pele, and feeling that I can be happy and grounded here in hawaii, to raise macademia nuts, goats for cheese and support local artists and musicians...

*In Orwellian times, as the voice of big brother drowns out fact, I will try to be your big sister, call me aspect of artemis-energy. this is the age of miracles and wonders. In this age the tower of babel and thus babylon will fall.

More essential reading here.

In other Roseanne news, Poly just picked up Roseanne: My Life As A Woman from Oxfam (a 99p steal) and will be posting a review/choice cuts shortly. So far, so amazing.


Gwyneth Paltrow’s annoying. It’s a universal truth, like a single man in possession of a good fortune etc. But here’s a secret shame: I’m also kind of fascinated by her. I watch films that she’s in, and if a magazine runs an interview with her, babes, I’ll read it. I liked that she said she enjoys living in England because people talk about smart things, even if it was a bit smug.

But this also makes me feel dirty, and now I’ve admitted it for the whole internet (well, 24 people a day, and rising!) to see. Because she is smug, and wet, and self-satisfied. Her Oscar acceptance speech remains the most excruciating moment in the history of entertainment, and that’s including the entirety of Sylvia, the worst film ever made (who’d have thunk, a film about suicide less appealing than its subject matter).

Up until this week, I was OK about it. Gwyn had gone away for a couple of years, churning out Biblical babies and saving the world one Coldplay dedication at a time. I’d dealt with the uncertainty, with the confused feelings, with the pangs of guilt and shame, and I’d put her to the back of my mind. But she appears to be on the counter-attack.

Yes, Gwyneth Paltrow is back.

1. She’s on the cover of W, looking like a medieval tranny robot painted by Picasso.

2. In said magazine, she talks about motherhood: “I have a dream version where I think, maybe in four years I'll have two in a row really quickly again—how fabulous to have a whole bunch of them!" Ugh. You know that smart comment? Whatever.

3. She’s going to host a Spanish cooking show, even though she doesn’t eat meat. Has she been to Spain? They love vegetarians there. She definitely won’t be eating chips and salad for a month. Nope, no chips for her.

Oh, Gwyneth. Why do you keep letting me down?

Anyone else got a love-hate secret star shame?



Have you ever been out somewhere, and heard an amazing song, and gone home, and tracked it down, and it’s unlocked a whole cupboard full of musical memories?

This weekend two of the Polyester ladies heard Hole’s Drag, a meaty fist of grunge-pop that we didn’t recognise, because, as the lady on the till told us, “it’s a B-side from the Malibu single”. (Yes, we go to shops where they play B-sides from the Malibu single and where they say things like, “It’s a B-side from the Malibu single.” And your point is?)

So the weekend was eaten up by rampant Hole nostalgia – B-sides, old shows, YouTubing madness and all sorts of back-to-95 dreaminess...

I'd defend Nu Courtney to the death, but I gotta say, I really miss the old one.

Monday, 13 August 2007


Lol!!!111! Because “box” is also a bit like fanny!!!!

Snort. Lindsay Lohan’s used Domino’s box, from the day after the whole baking-powder-in-pocket, bit-fast-along-the-highway incident, was sold on eBay for the paltry sum of $2.25, which is surely the biggest bargain you’ve ever seen in your whole life. Imhugable21, if that is your real name, you are one lucky so-and-so.

With profits so huge, the seller should start a business.

rawisjericho59 - fishing food detritus out of the rubbish for less than $3 a time!

Friday, 10 August 2007


...Polyester has a new home. Wordpress proved just a little too complicated for specials like us.

So au revoir, (still home to a great archive, innit) and bonjour...

That feels so much better.