Sally bercow

Would I break my neck for a bit of TV fame?

Not long ago I was asked if I wanted to participate in a Channel 4 reality show called The Jump. Rather embarrassingly, I’d never seen it, but my agent’s description of it sounded quite appealing. A bunch of micro-celebrities are taught a variety of winter sports, including skeleton, bobsleigh, speed skating, giant slalom and ski jumping. Once they’ve mastered the basics, they’re flown to an Austrian ski resort where they compete against each other in a D-list version of the Winter Olympics. A lot more appealing than Celebrity Big Brother, I thought, and less risk of ruining your reputation (yes, George Galloway, I’m thinking of you). However, there was a

Sally Bercow gives ‘The Speaker’s Wife’ a miss

Although Quentin Letts has made it clear that his new novel The Speaker’s Wife is fictional, the satirical tome has set tongues-wagging in Westminster. Chris Bryant wrote in his Guardian review that ‘the person who is most recognisable from today’s Westminster’ is the novel’s clerk of the house — Sir Roger Richards —  ‘whose real-life counterpart Sir Robert Rogers resigned last year’. So what do other Westminster residents make of the book? Mr S couldn’t help but raise the topic when he bumped into the current Speaker’s Wife Sally Bercow at last night’s night’s Champagne Life private view at the Saatchi Gallery. Has Sally had a chance to read the book about an ambitious backbencher —

The year of the cad

Now that former Central Office favourite Mark Clarke has been banned for life from the Conservative party, he could pursue a career in copy-writing. He seems to have a twisted aptitude for that sort of thing. When leading the Tories’ general election RoadTrip 2015 of young activists, many of them peachy girls, Mr Clarke was said to have had the slogan ‘Isolate, inebriate and penetrate’. Though he denies the bon mot, his approach was apparently wildly successful — which is more than can be said for his attempts to land a parliamentary seat. Several women, including at least one serving cabinet minister, fell for this plausible smarmer over the years. Mr

Karen Danczuk comes out in defence of Sally Bercow

Of all the MPs’ wives, Karen Danczuk and Sally Bercow may have amassed the most column inches. So perhaps it’s not surprising that in the wake of Sally’s latest news, Danczuk has come to her defence. Writing in this week’s issue of the women’s magazine Closer, Danczuk, who says she has been described as ‘the new Sally Bercow’, argues that onlookers should refrain from criticising Bercow over her alleged affair with her husband’s cousin. She says that unless you yourself have been a politician’s wife you cannot understand what it is like: ‘Life as a politician’s wife is a pressure cooker. And you can never switch off – you have a bath

Mike Tindall: Why in any way am I lucky with my in-laws?

The Duke of York attended the World Economic Forum last week in what was his first public appearance since he was accused of abusing an under-age ‘sex slave’. While Prince Andrew chose to speak out in Davos to deny the allegations, members of his family appear to be lost for words. Mike Tindall, who is married to Prince Andrew’s niece Zara Phillips, agreed to an interview with the Radio Times on the condition that ‘any questions about the royal family, including Prince Andrew, will lead to it being called to an abrupt halt’. When the writer did venture a question as to how his wife is holding up, he was met with a terse reply. ‘Let’s

Sally Bercow libelled Lord McAlpine, High Court rules

Welcome, Sally Bercow, to the naughtiest club in town: the Libel Club. The colourful Mrs Bercow has often got it in the neck from the press; what with her demimondaine ways and penchant for wearing bed clothes. But few things can endear one more to Grub Street than being found guilty of libel. Sally is covered in ordure at present, while weathering some dismal ‘innocent face’ banter from all and sundry. But, once the schadenfreude has abated and the damages paid, Fleet Street’s libel reformers may adopt her case for their cause. Stranger things have happened. Indeed, there is already rumbling on the wires. In the meantime, vindicated Lord McAlpine’s solicitor sounds a clear and concise note: ‘Mr Tugendhat’s judgment is one

The Mrs Bercow show

What, I suspect, would infuriate Sally Bercow most is if there was a complete media blackout over her appearance on ‘Celebrity’ Big Brother. As she made clear on entering the house, her whole aim is to annoy what she calls the ‘establishment.’ But at the risk of playing Bercow’s game, it’s worth debunking one argument that her defenders make. They say that she’s a person in her own right and so should be allowed to do what she wants, that her appearance should be defended on feminist grounds. But on the show, she’s not presenting herself as that. Instead, she’s there as the Speaker’s wife — that is her claim

Slippery Jack

A mad, muscular Sally Bercow cavorts on the Commons chair, diminutive husband on her knee, his features impish. With a few scratches of the nib, the Independent’s merciless Dan Brown, in his cover design for this biography, passes judgment more viciously than Bobby Friedman manages over the next 250 often unexciting pages. The book is not entirely without merit. It is earnest in the manner of a schoolgirl’s essay. There are not too many spelling mistakes. The author has plainly made scores of telephone calls to old acquaintances of the man we must now, revoltingly, call Mr Speaker. Friedman deserves a B-plus for effort. His book is not, however, as

What Andy did next…

Westminster has bent its collective knee in cooing supplication to Larry, Downing Street’s new cat. The slinky feline is already three times more famous than Mrs Bercow – no crude double-entendres please. Meanwhile, Politics Home has been sent a photograph of a van in Smith Square.

Put a sock in her

For once, I am in total agreement with Nigel Farage: the best way for Sally Bercow to help her husband is to take a vow of silence. Her recent Cleopatra act diverted attention from the persistent indignity of parliament’s relationship with IPSA, but it has done little to raise the diminutive Speaker’s diminutive reputation.   Flushed with embarrassment, Mrs Bercow spent most of Friday afternoon insisting that the Evening Standard had distorted her. She went into yummy mummy mode, confiding to Twitter that she was baking cakes for her son’s lunch box – nice rather than naughty. She gave no immediate explanation for posing in a sheet; but who doesn’t loiter semi-naked at the