*Or lowlights, if you'd rather
Ringed by fences, electronic gates, CCTV cameras and a 24-hour contingent of security guards, St George’s Hill in Weybridge, Surrey, is one of Britain’s most exclusive and secure private estates.
A woman who spent £400 on a portrait of Jimmy Savile at a charity auction just days before the allegations about his paedophilia made headlines across the country has told the charity: “Keep the money, but I don’t want the painting”.
Sarah Jessica Parker is the latest star to be drawn into the Glee firmament. The former Sex and the City actress is to play the online editor of Vogue on the show, according to an announcement at the weekend. She follows in the wake of Britney Spears, who appeared as herself in 2010, and Gwyneth Paltrow, who played a frisky teacher in 2011.
Today at 3pm BST Ringo Starr and His All Starr Band will be inviting fans around the world to join them online for a live press conference and special performance.
Well, what a right old pig's ear that was! One minute we were being told by Number 10 that Dave (PM) would be sticking two fingers up to all those silly old snobs insisting he had to wear traditional tails on the day of the royal wedding – the next we hear he'll be donning his Bullingdon best after all. Just as Tory heartlands everywhere were struggling to come to terms with the prospect of their leader embarrassing the nation in such a shoddy fashion, flustered Downing Street lackeys were suddenly spinning a different yarn altogether, insisting the Prime Minister had in fact always intended to embrace his fate on 29 April. Someone, we were pointedly told, had jumped the gun by unofficially suggesting otherwise – someone who hadn't even bothered to check with his boss before opening his big fat stupid mouth!
If making art is about empowerment, then terminal illness, by sharply reducing the horizon, concentrates the mind and stretches the imagination perhaps more than anything else. The artist Rebecca Nassauer's 12-year-long battle with breast cancer culminated in a large series of sculpted heads which embody both her state of mind and the remaining healthy part of herself. Entitled Safekeepers, they were exhibited last spring at her son Josh Lilley's London gallery.
From humble beginnings, a Nativity play in stockbroker-belt Surrey has grown over two decades into an extravaganza seen by thousands. And all thanks to one man and his draughty outbuilding
There's more to yodelling than a lonely goatherd
Improving weather and a housing downturn have one thing in common. They both oblige people to make the most of their home – and that includes the garden. With fewer people moving house in this era of austerity, more are attempting to maximise the play, relaxation and entertainment potential of their existing homes by building treehouses, grottoes and full-blown follies in their outside space.
It won the Best Movie and Best Director awards at the Golden Globes. Yet James Cameron's 'Avatar' is not the first film to make azure folk cool. Here's the top 10 blue-movie characters who kick the Na'vi's turquoise butts
Many a wounded politician would be quick to agree that crossing swords with formidable Westminster blogger Guido Fawkes is a traditionally hazardous business.
"We've had a bit of depression in this boardroom over the last few weeks... it's time for a bit of laughter," said Sir Alan, dispatching the winning team at the end of the latest episode. Something similar might have been said of The Apprentice itself at the beginning of last night's programme. So far, it's been fine, but not exactly vintage stuff... and decidedly short on YouTube gold, the sort of jaw-dropping, did-you-see-that-bit moment that gets a series talked about the next day. Last night, made up for it, with easily the funniest episode so far. The task facing the teams was to brand and advertise a new breakfast cereal, a worthy- looking combination of bran flakes and dried fruit. The teams had to come up with a concept, and a cartoon character that might persuade parents to buy this mixture, and their children to swallow it. The fun started almost immediately. "Has the cereal-killer thing already been done?" asked Philip. His team-mates gently steered him away from that mysteriously unexploited territory, where children's breakfast and mass-murder meets. But that deranged proposal was only marginally more misguided than what he came up with next. Thinking on his feet, which were by now lodged squarely in his mouth, Philip outlined his stab at advertising surrealism, a campaign that centred on the comic potential of underwear: "It's so natural that you feel naked... but with pants!" he said, in a eureka tone of voice. Creative excitement gripped him and he stood to audition the jingle he'd composed to accompany his concept: "When you waaaake up and your belly's rumberling... You've got to dance in your pants till you get your belly filled. If you are off to work or you are off to school, you got to dance in your pants until you get in the mood".
The worst mistake any band can make, if they want to get noticed, is to release consistently excellent records. Without the clichéd "falls from grace" and the proverbial "stunning returns to form", you just become invisible. So it is with Super Furry Animals, whose endlessly inventive psych-pop ought to have sealed their place as a national treasure after 15 years. Dark Days/Light Years isn't, to my mind, the Furries' finest, but it's growing in stature with every listen. It starts with two pieces of voodoo glam in the style of Marc Bolan, Ringo Starr and John Kongos in "Crazy Naked Girls" (great title) and "Mt". From thereon, it leaps around as many styles as any other SFA album, from the Bollywood-flavoured "The Very Best of Neil Diamond" (another great title) to the childlike "Inaugural Trams". Perhaps the loveliest moment, "Helium Hearts", has barely started before it ends, which tells you plenty: so tune-rich are SFA they can afford to squander a beauty like that.
Disastrous news. Sir Paul McCartney, patron saint of pop, has become the latest victim in a string of bizarre celebrity hackings.
As their manager, Bob Bonis travelled America with The Beatles and Rolling Stones. Now his treasure trove of pictures is revealed for the first time.