Naomi Campbell plans to open an exclusive chain of gyms in London, for people who are already fit. I guess the idea is that you turn up, change into lycra and admire yourself and other toned-types in the mirror mirror on the wall. As long as the fat dwarves stay outside, life is good.
If successful, the next step is to take the concept of taster menus a step further and launch a chain of restaurants where you admire the food but don’t eat, a live version of celeb TV cooking shows. Or they’ll let you munch, but then point towards the vomitorium like in the glory days of Roman Londinium.
Then there’ll be cinemas where the idea is not to watch movies; instead it’s to tell people you’ve already watched them, but enough about the London Film Festival, which kicked off yesterday (09.10.3).
That’s harsh, I know, and Tom Hanks was only trying to be nice when he said at the festival that, “to be here for this, in this international city, the most important city in the world, I don’t know how this happened,” but sometimes you can’t help get suffocated by the smugness of our town.
Along those lines, London was this week named the crappest place in Britain. “The only people who can still afford to live in the middle of the city are politicians, criminals and bankers,” said Sam Jordison, who co-founded Crap Towns. He’d better not be in the gym the same time as me.