FaFoBas

To fill their pages, gossip mags have created a monster: the FaFoBa. That’s those Famous For B***** all, basically (see also ‘nonebrities’). Cretinous reality show losers; witless Wags; famous parents' in-ya-face offspring with zilch talent (you know who you are P, P & K)| and myriad desperate red carpet cockroaches that would attend the opening of bowels: such is the Z list fodder whose only press mention would otherwise be a three line appearance in their local rag’s death notices. Quoted recently in Grazia, voici dress-up dolly Kim (pictured), of US reality-TV Über-FaFoBas, The Kardashian sisters whose 4.7 million followers on Twitter, if rounded up and culled, would not be missed.  ‘Our family has baggage, but like Louis Vuitton baggage you always want it.’ She has a point. It seems Britain has grown an insatiable appetite for the minutiae of the planet’s most pointless baggages’ lives. Inevitably, the bit we relish most is when, their fifteen minutes up, Kim and her like are dumped in the lost celebrity office along with their LV trunks. Call it FaFobafreude.