Today, movie stars aren't so special. They have no mystique, no aura of the unknown. They just aren't deliciously untouchable anymore. They tweet snaps in their bathroom and reveal unsavoury snippets about colonics and vajazzling. We know every shoddy secret of their break-ups and protein-only diets, we see their unsightly lumps and bumps in glorious technicolour.
I know they don't get a lot of opportunity to play it old school (and as an ex-employee of Us Weekly us punters secretly lap up all those gory details), but at the news that the last doyenne of Hollywood, Elizabeth Taylor passed away today, I realised sadly that that golden era of elegance has slipped away too - before our very eyes. Okay, so the friendship with Michael Jackson was slightly odd, and admittedly in her latter years, Liz didn't quite have the glamour of her youth, but she truly was the epitome of a movie star - including the goddesss-like curves, string of lovers, violet eyes and iconic movie roles. The Renees and Jennifers and Demis and Camerons of this world have a lot to live up to. But there really will only ever be one Queen Elizabeth.
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