Letters From London
Humorous Views on London Culture, Royals, Gossip and Politics
D-I-V-A Diva - 28 November 2009

“You’re sitting on a kitten!”

“No she isn’t. We couldn’t get them…health and safety again.”

“Theirs I’m assuming.”

“She threw another fit. She refused to meet the masses without her kittens. She wanted to feel
the little heartbeats in the palms of her hands. Plus the furry bit naturally.”

“Scarrrrrrrrry. How’d you ever get her to pretend to turn on the Christmas lights at the mall?”

“We told her the kittens were still being trained to bow and roll over.”

“Right.”

20 white kittens - fed only organic food since birth? 100 white doves carrying messages of
undying love for Mariah? But the massive and basically pointless Westfield Mall is a pet-free
zone - but certainly the kittens and birds were her personal pets….

GMTV presenter Kate Garraway, who wasn’t present at the time of Mariah’s pre-recorded
interview, told a magazine that Mariah’s entourage outnumbered the entire GMTV crew the day
she was lifted onto the sofa.

"She had two people to lower her on to the GMTV sofa, in case her dress got crushed, one
person to walk in front of her backwards at all times in case she fell over and several people
behind the camera making sure she was going to be filmed from the right angle."  Plus her own
pink loo paper and surely a loo paper attendant or two. One to cut the squares into her favourite
butterfly shapes. GMTV told the press Kate exaggerated…. Really.

Arriving at the party for her new album Memoirs Of An Imperfect Angel at London nightclub
Jalouse, Mariah entertained the peasants by pulling up in a white (for purity?) car with images of
herself on the side - in case she forgot who she was - to flog her new Angel Champagne - most
expensive champagne on the planet.

I’m seeing a pattern here. White, wings, angels, candles, roses, cupcakes, fur, cashmere
carpeting…bubbles.

(Only) two stylists, a personal photographer, a personal DJ, a personal candle lighter (to prevent
candle blackout), more bouncers than a ten-year-old could count, plus at least twenty personal
personnel who were seemingly unassigned.

But that’s not all, there’s even more. The venue was adorned with white roses, white and silver
Hummingbird cup cakes, balloons, thick white fur, a white cashmere carpet for her to walk
on…or be carried over.

The-doesn’t-do-stairs-diva is quite predictable really. She will always leave her adoring fans in
the rain, cold, dark for at least an hour – be surrounded by more security than a rugby team.
Might she be in competition with Prince Charles? She must have her own toothpaste squeezer,
surely.

“Diva. What’s a diva?”

“It’s deeevah, Ms Carey.  Not diiiveh. Let me read the definition to you.”

"I can do it myself. I can read you know. Well ‘I am baffled, shocked and appalled when I am
called a diva. I've never done one diva-ish thing in my life. The actual definition of a diva is a
woman who sings well. The secondary definition is a woman who is difficult to deal with. I hope I
am the first, but I really don't think I am the second.’"

Yes. She reeeeally said that. Personally, I refuse to have a ‘white’ Christmas…although the
twenty white kittens are tempting….