Perhaps Private Eye had got it wrong in its latest issue (#1353), where it characterised Sarah Vine (aka Mrs Michael “Oiky” Gove) as “Sarah Vain”? But no, it was, as so often, right on the proverbial money: one look at today’s Daily Mail offering from their all-new and Very Wonderful Honestly columnist confirms that her scribblings are mainly about Herself Personally Now.
Ms Vine bravely attempted to laugh off the Eye’s all too accurate pastiche of her column. She should have been looking to avoid proving it true: instead, readers of Paul Dacre’s piss-poor rag have been regaled with “My favourite Xmas”. Er, what? Whatever will “Oiky” say when he discovers his wife has been indulging in such vulgar abbreviation? Christmas is the word, Ms V!
And whose Christmas are we considering? “In the case of my family” she continues, duly increasing the Me count. Sarah will be cooking: “I love nothing more than cooking, especially for others. I’m a feeder: it gives me great pleasure”. But there are limits. “I refuse to be judged on my ability to roast a large, rather tasteless fowl and look alluring in a red cashmere onesie”. Like the one in the Eye send-up, no doubt.
Doesn’t she get out of the house? You betcha: “At Costa the other day, I watched a customer order”. What a thrilling life some people have. So what will Christmas be like in the Gove household? “I shall be keeping it simple. There will no relatives, no feuds — and no one drinking g&ts at 10.30am ... If anyone wants to be miserable in my house on Christmas Day, they are more than welcome”.
Bloody hell, I almost feel sorry for “Oiky”. But not quite. Anyway, do go on. “I shan’t be spending £80 on a real Christmas tree; I’ve invested £30 in a plastic Ikea one instead”. Like anyone was asking. Does anyone else get to make decisions in this house? For instance, what to have for Christmas lunch? “We won’t even bother with Christmas lunch”. And Bah Humbug to you too!
All right, an early tea then: “I’ll do a nice roast beef, then we can all watch rubbish on the telly with a glass or three of wine and a tin of Celebrations. My kind of Christmas. For once, I’m really looking forward to it”. And stuff the opinions of any other family member, eh? Then, for good measure, she sticks up for Bozza in his attempt to deflect the blame for all those dead cyclists.
Yep, Private Eye was spot on as usual. That’s a vanity count of 17, and just on the first item in her column. The rest was too much of an endurance test: one does not want to lose the will to live just yet. But fair play to Sarah Vine: not only does she get away with this dross, but she also gets it into the Daily Mail, the one paper that still pays its pundits seriously decent money.
All of which means it really is all about her. No change there, then.