Until recently my only sighting of The Lady was a glimpse of a mid-September edition which had filtered down though the mixed media detritus of our verging-on-the-out-of-control home, to reside semi-permanently on the cistern of the downstairs lav. This was a one off voucher copy following the placing of a speculative small ad describing our Umbrian holiday apartment. Two enquiries resulted, each spawning a flurry of email exchanges, then… in true ‘Lady‘ style our little Italy was deemed ‘not quite what we want’.
The current television ‘documentary’ following The Lady’s travails borrows from Big Brother – new editor Rachel’s big brother is Boris Johnson – all that’s missing is a hot tub and tattoos. ‘Pfeffel!’ I hear you say, but there are evictions – a ‘too-loud’ literary editor was the first; housemate jungle trials – rodent infestation and leaky roofs; and then public votes where, according to Rachel, circulation figures reflect the reality of ‘a piddling magazine that nobody cares about or buys…. (er) sorry, I didn’t mean that.’
All in all, The Lady’s gaga combination of politicking, claustrophobia, and the need to keep a straight face whilst believing in the kabala of business, makes me glad I’ve chosen freelance penury – or perhaps it’s chosen me.
See new Lady Ed Rachel Johnson’s Channel 4 interview here –