sing. He’s not good-looking enough, the loser. Banish him!” But no woman gets to perform publicly unless she looks like Mariah Carey. If you’re a female singer, you are required by showbiz law to appear sexy at all times.’
It wasn’t just the national newspapers who had decided that there should be virtually no limit to their coverage of Susan; the provincial press too was simultaneouslyenthusiastically raving about her performance and questioning just why it had had such an impact.
‘When Susan Boyle walked onto the stage at the Britain’s Got Talent auditions, she was the complete antithesis of our image-obsessed world. Dressed in a dodgy gold dress, with bushy eyebrows and her greying hair longing to be styled and coloured, first impressions meant we all expected her to fail miserably,’ said Wales’ Western Mail .
‘After all, it wasn’t a surprise when the 47-year-old announced she was single, living at home with only a pet cat for company or that she’d never been married, never even been kissed. It wasn’t really a surprise when she waffled on to Simon Cowell about where she lived, how old she was or even when she started, rather embarrassingly, nervously gyrating her hips. The looks from the audience and judges alike summed up exactly what we were all feeling at home – this woman may want to be a professional singer like Elaine Paige, but she didn’t stand a chance, did she? After all, she just didn’t look right so what chance would she have against the bevy of half-dressed beauties looking to charm the judges for the chance to perform at the Royal Variety Performance. But Ms Boyle – even her name isn’t remotely showbiz or sexy – had a gigantic surprise up her rather old-fashioned shaped sleeve.
‘And when she belted out “I Dreamed A Dream” from Les Misérables , we were all left gobsmacked.’
Much nearer to home, the Evening Times in Edinburgh said: ‘Let’s hear it for the misfits: a select band of people at least half a step out of synch with the rest of the world who with every word, deed and thought dare to be different. Best of all, they are as natural in quirks and foibles as the rest of humanity is not.
‘People like Susan Boyle, who bravely took to a stage and was ready to be mocked and patronised by some pretty shallow, sharp-minded showbiz cookies backed by an audience ready for a lynching.
‘At first it looked as if yet another lamb was being led to the slaughter: Simon Cowell rolled his eyes, Piers Morgan smirked and Amanda Holden set her face in pre-performance sympathy-mode. As the camera panned over the audience, the only things missing were knitting needles and a guillotine.
‘Then the gloriously plain and perky Miss Boyle opened her mouth and the rest is, as the sheep might say, history.’
The article, not one that favoured Britain’s Got Talent as a show, continued: ‘It is marshmallow media for the unthinking – until the likes of Susan Boyle comes along and shatters the pre-packaged myth of good looks, sophisticated charm, wit and style. Just an ordinary, wee, middle-aged, never-been-kissed spinster in a baggy dress with a twinkle in her eye and a singing voice that could shatter glass and splinter pigeonholes.
‘By the time she makes her next appearance I am in no doubt the style gurus will have set to work: the frizzybob will have been softened, there will be a gown and girders to even out the lumps and bumps.
‘What won’t change is her aura of danger and anarchy: the spirit of individualism that sets Susan Boyle and her like outside of the herd.’
The newspaper added: ‘If anything, Miss Boyle – I refuse to say Ms because Miss was made for her – is a parable of our blighted, anxiety-ridden, narrow-minded times…it is also where Susan Boyle’s hidden talent lies. Not in a glorious voice singing its way from a brown paper bag…but to shock herded humanity out of complacency, conceit and self-deception.’
Newspapers and
It wasn’t just the national newspapers who had decided that there should be virtually no limit to their coverage of Susan; the provincial press too was simultaneouslyenthusiastically raving about her performance and questioning just why it had had such an impact.
‘When Susan Boyle walked onto the stage at the Britain’s Got Talent auditions, she was the complete antithesis of our image-obsessed world. Dressed in a dodgy gold dress, with bushy eyebrows and her greying hair longing to be styled and coloured, first impressions meant we all expected her to fail miserably,’ said Wales’ Western Mail .
‘After all, it wasn’t a surprise when the 47-year-old announced she was single, living at home with only a pet cat for company or that she’d never been married, never even been kissed. It wasn’t really a surprise when she waffled on to Simon Cowell about where she lived, how old she was or even when she started, rather embarrassingly, nervously gyrating her hips. The looks from the audience and judges alike summed up exactly what we were all feeling at home – this woman may want to be a professional singer like Elaine Paige, but she didn’t stand a chance, did she? After all, she just didn’t look right so what chance would she have against the bevy of half-dressed beauties looking to charm the judges for the chance to perform at the Royal Variety Performance. But Ms Boyle – even her name isn’t remotely showbiz or sexy – had a gigantic surprise up her rather old-fashioned shaped sleeve.
‘And when she belted out “I Dreamed A Dream” from Les Misérables , we were all left gobsmacked.’
Much nearer to home, the Evening Times in Edinburgh said: ‘Let’s hear it for the misfits: a select band of people at least half a step out of synch with the rest of the world who with every word, deed and thought dare to be different. Best of all, they are as natural in quirks and foibles as the rest of humanity is not.
‘People like Susan Boyle, who bravely took to a stage and was ready to be mocked and patronised by some pretty shallow, sharp-minded showbiz cookies backed by an audience ready for a lynching.
‘At first it looked as if yet another lamb was being led to the slaughter: Simon Cowell rolled his eyes, Piers Morgan smirked and Amanda Holden set her face in pre-performance sympathy-mode. As the camera panned over the audience, the only things missing were knitting needles and a guillotine.
‘Then the gloriously plain and perky Miss Boyle opened her mouth and the rest is, as the sheep might say, history.’
The article, not one that favoured Britain’s Got Talent as a show, continued: ‘It is marshmallow media for the unthinking – until the likes of Susan Boyle comes along and shatters the pre-packaged myth of good looks, sophisticated charm, wit and style. Just an ordinary, wee, middle-aged, never-been-kissed spinster in a baggy dress with a twinkle in her eye and a singing voice that could shatter glass and splinter pigeonholes.
‘By the time she makes her next appearance I am in no doubt the style gurus will have set to work: the frizzybob will have been softened, there will be a gown and girders to even out the lumps and bumps.
‘What won’t change is her aura of danger and anarchy: the spirit of individualism that sets Susan Boyle and her like outside of the herd.’
The newspaper added: ‘If anything, Miss Boyle – I refuse to say Ms because Miss was made for her – is a parable of our blighted, anxiety-ridden, narrow-minded times…it is also where Susan Boyle’s hidden talent lies. Not in a glorious voice singing its way from a brown paper bag…but to shock herded humanity out of complacency, conceit and self-deception.’
Newspapers and
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