Kelly Osbourne, daughter of Sharon and vacuum cleaner-voiced Ozzy, has declared celebrity jihad on The London Paper afternoon freesheet after it published a photo of her, thighs akimbo, in the back of a cab. On the evening in question, Osbourne had been weaving tiredly about the Polynesian-themed nightclub Mahiki (favoured by Sloanes and the royal set) and was later seen carefully inspecting the craftsmanship of brickwork on a wall next to her house.

Hype is, of course, as essential to the Hollywood cocktail as vodka is to a Cosmopolitan. And barely a year goes by without a new film being heralded as a triumph that has skewered a zeitgeist like the heel of a Manolo Blahnik descending on a red carpet. But there is something about the release of the Sex And The City film, which premiered last night in London, which does feel rather momentous; and not just for the armies of fans of the long-running and award-winning US television series, but, in some way, for gender relations too.

There's a new editor and a fresh look for Haymarket's women's monthly. Nic McCarthy talks to Ciar Byrne

In the 10 years since its debut, Sex and the City has spawned countless girls-night-out discussions about how to capture the glamorous lifestyle of Carrie, Samantha, Charlotte and Miranda. In New York it has even spawned an industry of tie-in tourist activities – but nothing like this.

Now that the word "Manolos" has become a generic term for a certain type of high-heeled shoe, all of my suburban friends finally understand why I am working for Mr Blahnik.

IT WAS, in most eyes, an old-fashioned mugging on Seventh Avenue. After 12 rounds of boxing, Lennox Lewis believed he had Evander Holyfield's titles in his pocket. But then came the judges' verdict, depriving him of the right to call himself the undisputed heavyweight champion of the world.

Somewhere along the line something has changed, and the age-old search for pleasure has turned nasty

THOSE OF us who sit through the credits are invariably rewarded not only with details of who sang what but also with names that no scriptwriter would dare invent - or producer allow above the title. Somebody with a hand in the sprightly Antz has the killer surname Posthumus and the dismal Sex and the City at least yields the name Winsome.

BRIAN VINER ON TELEVISION

Stand by to ditch those long skirts and black accessories. Melanie Rickey has seen the future, and it's on screen

Men in Black Barry Sonnenfeld (PG)

Advice to actresses in Hollywood: don't age. But as Michelle Pfeiffer turns 40, are female stars the only casualties of film's obsession with youthful beauty?

Hollywood now finds it easier to adapt bubblegum cards.

The Crucible Nicholas Hytner (12) Mars Attacks! Tim Burton (12) Bound Larry and Andy Wachowski (18)