Well done The Sun… not only a great review on the mm programme but also the subtle dig at KP
- ‘Yeah, bloody Ann Ziety, the s l ag’
WEDNESDAY night, at 9pm, on Channel 4, Katie Price began talking.
An hour later, she finally stopped.
The mucky mansion has become a physical expression of all Katie’s inner turmoil and insecurities, which are vast
In between times? There was a relentless drone of psychobabble, egomania, innuendo and self-pity, punctuated by the odd DIY tip. But what all of it meant? I’ve no proper idea, as I reckon you’d need a team of behavioural scientists, doctors and zoologists to get inside this girl’s noggin.
I think, though, we can firmly put the blame for
Katie Price’s Mucky Mansion on
Clarkson’s Farm, an Amazon series that was so brilliant and funny, rival channels are now prepared to give pretty much any celebrity with a few spare country acres and a career hiatus their own fly-on-the-wall series.
BBC1’s got Kelvin’s Big Farming Adventure, Charlotte Church is doing something with her Welsh spa on a fringe network and Channel 4 has a ten-bedroom wreck in Sussex that’s almost as flattered by the description “mucky” as
Katie is by the words “author, designer and political campaigner”.
The place is a s**thole. Thieves have ransacked the entire gaff, Harvey’s smashed the windows, two dogs and a horse have died on the premises, a couple of boyfriends have probably fled before soft rot set in and as Mucky Madam herself admitted: “If I walked through that front door it would give me ann-ziety.”
Yeah, bloody Ann Ziety, the slag.
The place has become a physical expression of all Katie’s inner turmoil and insecurities, which are vast, because the basic equation at play here is that the more restoration work she did to herself, the less got done to the house.