Glit

Guess who took my number last night? Jilly Cooper? Fucking Dajve Bikinus off the telly.

Anywhere in the Western world and you’re going to know that white text on a red oblong equals garbage when it comes to your tangible publications. Whether it’s a paper or a magazine, expect pain. Unless you’re into that sort of thing. If you *are*, then I’m actually not really sure why you’re here. But, you know. Welcome. Enjoy your stay, etc.

We’re swerving Murdoch for this, at least, as we tackle the glossy magazine. And for me, there are two subsections herein. Your ‘Hello!‘ (Or ‘OK!‘, if that’s too intellectual for you) branch and your ‘heat‘ branch. The former is the route to take if you’re obsessed with soap operas and about to hit the menopause and the latter is if you like a broad spectrum of celebrities and some of them in a mildly ironic way. Don’t get me wrong, you’re still a fucking idiot, but at least you’ve got time to turn it around. Which you probably won’t do but ah well.

Glit is basically heat but with a different title. Presumably the name is some kind of portmanteau of ‘clit’ and ‘glitter’ given the real magazine’s target audience being young, female gossipmongers that like shiny things. It features briefly in the show and the front cover showcases a debauched night out shared by Dajve Bikinus (fictional female celebrity) and friend Cat Deeley (non-fictional female celebrity).

Dajve Bikinus appears to be some kind of MTV-ish VJ and is a brief love interest of Nathan Barley, being as she’s equally vacuous and tiresome as he. She quickly loses interest in him because…well, because he’s a cunt.

The strapline is a bit of a masterstroke. In a world of shouting garishness, the only remotely impressive thing about these types of rag is that they manage to get published regularly.