I’m NOT a celebrity... Get me out of here!

Kiran Duggal speaks to writers about their relationship with fame

Most journalists would say they didn’t choose this profession for the fame. That telling other people’s stories is the beauty of the job –not becoming the story yourself. However, what happens when you become recognised beyond the byline? Some become columnists, podcasters or authors. Others venture into TV. So how do journalists deal with newfound fame?

Polly Vernon

After her controversial Observer article, ‘Admit it. You hate me because I’m thin’, was published in 2003, Polly Vernon has experienced the pitfalls of gaining notoriety as a journalist. “I did get the whole of The

Guardian/Observer shut down at one point because somebody sent me what we thought was anthrax,” she says with a laugh. “I was reasonably sure it wasn’t anthrax. Not entirely. The whole building was shut down and there were people running around with hazmat suits testing this powder.”

Dealing with hate does not faze Vernon when writing about her beliefs. Her column in Grazia is a prime example of using her platform to share her views on abortion.

“The abortion rights stuff has been really interesting. Because I know that subject back to front, I can argue it until I’m blue in the face. I don’t care and I’ve discovered it’s impossible to slut shame me,” Vernon says enthusiastically. “I have sex. What do you think you’re exposing here? Part of me is still a 16-year-old girl who thinks it’s the coolest thing ever.”

Whilst trolls usually hide behind their screens, there are rare occasions when a journalist gets to meet the person who has been making their life a living hell. In Vernon’s case, this turned out to be her own neighbour.

“I eventually went over to her, and I said, ‘Do you know who I am?’ And she went, ‘Yes, and I don’t regret a single word that I said’,” Vernon explains, laughing in disbelief. “I said ‘Okay, shall we read some of it out to your husband who seems to be sitting there?’”

She sighs. “In your head you’re going to have some great moment like in a rom-com where you come out triumphant, but in reality it doesn’t work like that.”

Jay Rayner there’s nothing they can actually do to change things around besides seating him in a nicer place. Alluding to Jimi Famuera’s review of Socca for the Evening Standard where he likens being put in the back room to being in Siberia, Rayner says “I know I will never get put in Siberia, let’s put it that way.”

Jay Rayner, food critic for The Observer, knows all too well the repercussions of when your face becomes recognisable. “Journalism is not for people seeking fame. It’s not a classic route or should it be because you shouldn’t get in the way of the story,” he says.

Rayner has become a household name due to his appearances on MasterChef and his witty but erudite food analysis. “For good or ill, I was the bloke off the telly,” he says. However, this comes with its challenges.

Despite his work on television, Rayner reiterates, that, above all, he is a reporter frst.

“There’s always a notebook in my back pocket. And long before I started writing a column, I was eating up the shoe leather going and interviewing people.” To some extent, his increase in notoriety has complicated his ability to report. “You need to not be recognisable. You almost need to be bland so that you can knock on a door and start asking questions without who you are distracting the person you’re trying to interview,” Rayner warns. “It’s not about you, it’s about them.” turning up on Masterchef or taking part in a game show, those are choices I chose to do,” he says. “So don’t whine about it, because at any point, you could just pack it in.”

Kate Spicer

One of the caveats of getting her frst big break as a sex columnist for Details magazine was that it required Kate Spicer to have a photo byline. “Once you have your picture taken wearing rubber, obviously you become a bit more memorable.”

But Spicer says being memorable comes with consequences.

“I am recognised. There’s no point in pretending I’m not. I always book under a pseudonym,” says Rayner on visiting new food spots to review.

“Restaurants are like plays. When you go to see a play, there is nothing they can do to change the experience a particular individual has. They’ve rehearsed it; there are actors, scripts. That’s it. The set is designed.”

Rayner laughs as he acknowledges that if they know he’s coming,

On a more personal note, Rayner contemplates the lack of privacy that comes with being recognised.

“If you see someone you recognise off the telly in a hospital, probably best not to go up to them and ask, ‘Are you the bloke off Masterchef?’”

Despite this, Rayner has zero regrets surrounding his career. After growing up watching his mother, the late Claire Rayner, dabble with the spotlight, he knew what he was signing up for. “Whether it be

“You cease to be able to do interesting, stealthy, or just quietly hover around the edges of things,” she explains. One issue that’s elevated by notoriety is the consequence of writing behind a paywall.

“You’re always writing. You do one piece and you move on to the next and it’s that endless cycle of pain, pleasure, pain, pleasure,” says Spicer. “Most of the stuff I write for is for The Sunday Times so it doesn’t come up in searches. What people get is a piece I wrote about love addiction or they’ll get the childless stuff which is an issue for me.”

Spicer has written extensively on her regrets over not having children. And writing about dead pets is not above her paygrade either: “If people are googling me to fnd out if I’m credible to talk to, the frst thing that comes up is me writing about my dead dog.”

The opinion that frst person pieces are easier to write frustrates Spicer.

“I’ve just spent f***ing fve days writing a piece about Manchester, and I still don’t really like it,” laughs Spicer. “But then I get called by someone asking me to write about why Stevie Nicks is important to me, and I’ll write in two hours and get paid more or less the same. You know, do the math.”.

Nevertheless, Spicer understands the importance of the frst person narrative. “They touch people because they discuss issues where people feel heard,” she says. “When I wrote about the dog dying I was cringing inside, but if we can’t as journalists communicate with people and their feelings and make them feel seen in this day and age, then what are we meant to do? You can’t just all be dry.”