X Factor Bitch

The X Factor. Quite simply a media juggernaut that has gathered such force that it has succeeded in breaking through the Cambridge bubble in a way that even Britain’s Got Talent and Strictly have never managed.  Some people watch it because they love the music, some because they love the drama and some, like me, because they love the feeling of superiority it offers.

For an hour and a half I can forget the niggling fear that this is the week my DoS is going to discover I am really very bad at my subject and instead I can make myself feel better at the expense of others. Perfection. This series has been going for a while (and when I say a while I mean an eternity) so I thought a quick summary of the judges and remaining contestants was in order with a promise of weekly updates of the live shows. I am sure you will all be waiting with bated breath.

The Host

Dermot O’Leary. I love Dermot. He is just as cute as a button. His parents live near me and I cherish a secret hope that one day we will meet and he will fall in love with me – and get about a foot taller – in a heartbeat. I can but dream.

The Judges

Simon Cowell. This man can only be described as a genius. I love everything about him. His lego hair, his inanely white teeth and his weird dropped hem grey t-shirts all set me aquiver.

Louis Walsh. Quite simply the pettiest, most smug man on television. Ridiculousness personified.  I would like to sneak up behind and poke him in the back of the head with a very long stick. Repeatedly.

Dannii Minogue. For a long time Dannii has been considered the more rubbish of the Minogue sisters and as one of three girls myself I feel her pain. However according to my stash of celebrity magazines (bought ironically, obviously) Danni’s star is rising. Despite a frankly weird and slightly homophobic comment to Danyl early on she still seems to be largely in favour. But Simon didn’t save Lucie 'I’m Vanilla' Jones last week and she only has one girl left in her category. Look out for mega bitching this week.

Cheryl Cole. The nation’s sweetheart. I’m not a huge fan. (To quote Simon Amstell, isn’t it weird that we’ve all forgotten what an awful violent thug she is?) Last year everyone loved Cheryl and her act – Alexandra 'I’m not quite as good as Leona' Burke – won. This year she has rubbish boys in her category and has made some downright disastrous wardrobe decisions.  Things are not looking good in Camp Cheryl. Except her. Like her or loath her she looks fantastic and I bet she smells amazing.

The Acts

Jamie 'Afro' Archer. I hate him more than even Louis Walsh. In the words of a very wise woman (my mum) he is 'just passé'. It is beyond me how he can be so out of touch that he still thinks it’s cool to tie a scarf to his microphone. I have two words for you Jamie. MOVE ON. I also dislike his hair. I have long had a desire to channel my inner Delilah and cut it all off. Then perhaps people will realise that he isn’t cool, he can’t really sing (his style is to rasp like a the “rockstar” he is) and that he just thinks – mistakenly – that he’s Lenny Kravitz. 

Stacey Solomon. A pretty girl with a nice enough voice. It’s just a shame that she is the most annoying person ever. Jade Goody is her hero. Enough said.

Jo McElderry. Despite everything I can’t help liking this boy. He has a sweet voice and every week they dress him up in as many layers as an arctic explorer to make him look beefy. Plus he threw a tambourine in the face of one of the other contestants. LAD.

Danyl Johnson.  For a while this guy was more hated than Aleesha Dixon (God forbid). Granted he has a freakishly huge mouth but he is actually a very good singer. I just don’t understand why people waste their energy hating this boy when there are far more suitable targets for their hatred. See Jamie 'Afro' Archer rant above.

Lloyd Daniels. He’s young, he’s beautiful, he can’t sing: it’s a tale as old as X Factor time. But at least he gets to hug Cheryl periodically. Hopefully he can take that experience with him.

John and Edward.  As a couple you know you’ve made it when people talk about you so much that they save time by merging your names. And so Jedward was born. I personally feel sorry for John because he seems to have lost out in this scenario, but that’s beside the point. These Irish twins have spawned a media circus in a teacup. They have ridiculous hair, ridiculous clothes and a ridiculously high opinion of themselves. I say all power to them. If they can get through the whole of the X Factor speaking their songs rather than singing them and they do so with their gravity defying hair dos held high then good on them.

Olly Murs. This boy is the reason why I watch the X Factor. I go weak at the knees whenever I see him despite his ill-fitting shiny suits. We love Olly Murs. Clear winner (not that I’m biased). My love for him took a hit this week when I found he had been on Deal or No Deal. But as they say, true love conquers all. I am willing to forgive and forget.

So that’s what all the fuss is about. Look out for my summary of next week’s episode where I will be recounting the tears, tantrums and wardrobe malfunctions (and that’s just from Louis Walsh).

Lots of love,

The X Factor Bitch.