Is there really any correlation between do-remove-my-pants good looks and success in life? Wayne Rooney undoubtedly earns a thick wedge and possesses a recognisable name across many territories of the world. But you would have to feel that he will probably never be as big a cross-brand, Japan-delighting omni-god as David Beckham, simply because A) he looks like a toad and B) isn’t that reason enough?
Lord Alan Sugar, of course, is no oil painting, but then again he has seven castles, each one full of oil paintings, so it hardly matters. Where it does seem to matter is in the line-up of folk who want to get a spoonful of his riches. They are, of course, The Apprentice candidates. Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but is there not something different about this year’s intake? Normally there is one, maybe two good looking people in the male and female teams. This year the show looks like a mash-up of Hollyoaks and Take Me Out. It’s like they all walked in the wrong door. There are about six people on each team who you’d probably be quite chuffed to pull. It’s all ankle-risking high heels, Timberlake haircuts, smoky eyeshadow and tight suits.
And while I have no problem with looking at pretty faces and slinky bodies, could they not maybe limit the amount of time Nick Hewer and the graylord are on screen? They keep cropping up during my daydreams about Karren Brady comforting the latest fit evictee on the boardroom table and ruining everything!