Oh Amy Molloy.
In true DM style she wrote a column titled:
A book deal at 23. A stellar career. An enviable lifestyle. But AMY MOLLOY says: ‘Being a success is lonely and so joyless. I wish I was mediocre like my friends’
I don’t really want to but fuck it, you need context, so here be her meandering whinge on the Daily Mail website. Gah.
So, the former editor of the now defunct Grazia is all sad because she is driven to success and it’s lonely being the best at stuff and everything and the one friend she has is rubbish at success but Molloy is really jealous of her for being shit.
I KNOW! What. The. Actual? But let’s look at the pedigree; We’re talking Liz Jones, Samantha “blimey, facts!” Brick and sometimes a side order of Amanda Platell (although I hesitate to completely lump her with this lot just a wee bit).
Is she just the next in a long line of “controversial” female columnists who write bitchy nasty things about their fellow lady-persons in order to drive up sales, earn some cash and basically reverse-troll everyone in the world?
Maybe. She’s also somehow in Australia (outside the UK, the world’s biggest consumer of teh DM), presumably carving out a new career post-Grazia (almost the world’s BEST magazine if you want to feel shit about yourself and be told to spend $5k on an 80s jacket which makes you look like a member of NKOTB).
She featured on The Project tonight and basically was at a loss as to how to explain her rather mental and confusing invective which smacks all over of Brick’s famous “Women Hate Me Because I’m Beautiful” Sadface brainsnap.
So here’s my question: Does teh DM pay these ladeez bajillions to write this shite and bind them up into a contract that states they must publicly back up their claims and never say they did it for the cashola, or are they just a massive bunch of deluded fucking biatches?
WHO CAN SAY? I like to believe all these women are elaborate hoaxes, particularly Jones, put on this earth by their own volition, funded by the extensive coffers of the Mail to wind everyone up. Maybe on their death-beds they’ll be all like “had you!”. But a part of me fears not.
Come on, with the Daily Mail, they’re going to edit your copy, put an inflammatory headline on it and basically fuck you up. But if you’re Brick, Molloy et al, you should be expecting it. You work in media. You know this game. So you swallow all your ethics, praise the Lord Mail for his/her largesse and prostitute yourself like a motherfucker to put another storey on your house. And keep churning out the crap. Or honestly believe it like the mentalist you appear to be.
I wonder about Molloy though. She seemed confused and far less eloquent than I imagine, but equally unrepentant. Is she feeling buyer’s (seller’s) regret? But in for a penny, in for a pound. Once you’ve written this shite for the DM, you might as well carry the fuck on. Because you’re either doing it for the money or you’re a horrible human being. Or both.