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Colette Fitzpatrick: Nice dress but time to cover up Christina

Kim Kardashian must be seething. She's been knocked off her perch as queen of the curvy body by Christina Hendricks, who plays office supersiren Joan Holloway in Mad Men. But the actress says it drives her insane, the way we all talk about her body.

Christina, you may want to consider a not-so-plunging neckline and waist-cinching number that accentuates your killer curves and hourglass shape, the next time you sashay down the red carpet. Am I being too catty? Well, throw me in a wheelie bin.


Christina has just revealed how nobody had a dress in more than a size 2, (that's an Irish size 6) which would fit her for the red carpet at the Emmys. Zac Posen take a bow, your dress was the one that was splashed in media across the world. Purely because you decided that you could run something up for a woman genetically predisposed to be photographed.

Designers, this sizeism has to stop. Real talent means being able to dress a tree and not a stick. And Christina, don't cry wolf. Cover up and we'll stop talking about your body and start concentrating on your career.

Wayne Rooney is a wimp, so pathetic that he blames his wife for his sordid encounter

The WAG-ocracy must be tearing out their hair extensions in anticipation of Coleen's next move. Take him back and she'll send out the message that it's okay to stray when your wife's got a bun in the oven.

Drop-kick him into next year and take him to the cleaners, and the footballers' wives will have to follow suit the next time one of their men decides a bit of hanky panky on the side is just what he needs to spice up his marriage.

There's an old saying that "every cat will drink milk when it's given it". It's a sort of an excuse that women tell themselves when they turn a blind eye to their hubbies' extramarital flings and forgive them again and again.


It's sort of "all men would play away from home, given the chance, not just mine".

I prefer this saying, Wayne: "If you dip the wick, the oil man must be paid." It means, have sex with someone other than your wife, and a price must be paid. And no, I'm not talking £1,200. It means you'd better be prepared to come out with your hands up, or in your case, your trousers down.

There's nothing more snivelling and miserable than the blame game when you're the one in the wrong. And a shed load of pathetic excuses dumped right on your partner's doorstep? Honorable and noble it ain't.

Man up, Wayne, and stop blaming your wife for your grubby little fling. Or is that flings? The notion that Coleen's pregnancy was in some way to blame or a factor for your two-timing, is one of the most stomach-churning, lily-livered, yellow-bellied moves we've seen.


It's textbook "kidult" behaviour; an adult acting like a kid. Do you think it is the rite of passage of a daddy-to-be to live it large just because you have responsibilities coming? What an antediluvian male outlook.

There is another saying you know: "If you play at being Mammies and Daddies, you'd better be prepared to become a Mammy and Daddy." It means when you're about to become a Mammy or a Daddy, you must act responsibly towards your spouse and your children.

Perhaps you're the biggest baby in the Rooney homestead. Threw your toys out of the pram because you weren't getting all of Coleen's attention? Did you believe it was your divine right to pay for sex just because Coleen may have been too tired, sick or hormonal to satisfy your needs?

Nice to see you're supportive during the handful of times in her life your wife might have to put herself or your children first.

It's no secret that while some women love pregnancies and many men find the shape of a pregnant woman a turn-on, a lot of women feel pretty vulnerable, unattractive and as sexy as a beached whale when they're expecting.


What about her needs? A real man might have offered a foot or back rub. A spoiled, selfish brat might believe cheating and promiscuity and the risk of bringing home some sort of disease are standard husband material.

They're not, Wayne. Stop being a wuss and at least begin by admitting it's not her, it's you.