Cheryl Cole

So poor woor Cheryl has flown out to see Camp Bastion? About time! She could sure do with a decent stylist. Oh, you mean the Helmand hellhole our brave boys are garrisoned in? Well, forces sweetheart worked for Vera Lynn, and it might be a step towards reclaiming her title as the nation’s sweetheart (how quickly we forget). There’s speculation about Chezza returning as a ‘shock’ replacement for Tulisa for the X-Factor finals. How come? Somebody tell Simon Cowell the new panel works just fine. Why not sign Cheryl up alongside Camden comedian Kathy Burka (pictured) for his next cash cow, Afghanistan’s Got Taliban? ‘Eeh Farrukh, pet, Yah really nay-yulled that Osama tirade.’

The Beckhams

Much restlessness at Beckingham Palace. As the chatelaine prepares to pop the alternative royal family’s first daughter, one is reportedly finding it hard to sleep. Is there a pea under Posh’s mattress or has bambina inherited Daddy’s reflex kicking gene? I reckon the couple is up all night calling Suri Cruise for styling tips and deciding on that all-important name. I’ve heard rumours but Felicity Beckham sounds like a dull lesbian librarian, frankly. If you fancy a flutter, Burberry, Blancmange, Barbarella and Biggleswade By-Pass are all priced 15/2. I'm told you can get odds of one million to one on both Rebekkah - not exactly the most popular girl's name right now- and Rebecca, as in Loos woman. 

Princess Beatrice's Hat

As pictures were beamed from the abbey, incredulous viewers gasped in horror at the prospect of The Thing that had attached itself to Panda-eyed innocent  Bea’s bonce like something out of a low-rent sci-fi B-movie. Now the preposterous pretzel/ crab/ loo seat/ cat flap/ model of someone's fallopian tubes  - which, admittedly, I've grown rather fond of over the past few weeks - is being sold on eBay in aid of childrens charities. Duncan Bannatyne - who'd look pretty as a picture in it - has seen his £5k opening bid bettered: we’re currently close to £100K for the co-star of Will and Kate's nuptials. More power to Bea's elbow for turning the Treacey tragedy into a personal triumph: flogging it in aid of a good cause while making sure the entire world now knows which (fun) young (altruistic) royal she is. You'd pay Max Clifford a small fortune to raise your profile so adroitly.  Mummy, who has never quite rivalled her daughter's nose for a smart publicity move, might learn a thing or two from her daughter's canny reversal of fortune. Who will win the auction? Having failed to sign up that other wedding day talking point - Pippa’s perky posterior - to replace one of his US TV show  panellists who often appears to talk out of hers, could a mystery buyer yet nick the heinous headpiece? Wouldn’t mental millinery make more sense than seemingly mad-as-a-hatter Ms Abdul, Simon?

John Galliano

Which ingredient is common to Kiss of Death and Perfect John cocktails? Galliano. Did too many such libations inform the Italian liqueur’s namesake’s  pro-Hitler rant in a Parisian bar? Where next for the ex-Dior Wunderkind? A stretch at Sarko's pleasure in La Bastille? Hezbollah Fashion Week? Given the Führer’s track record, a self-employed Galliano can forget commissions for glitzy bar mitzvah gear, his‘n’his civil ceremony suits or big fat gypsy wedding dresses. Will he submit his CV to Chanel? Kaiser Karl’s record is without blemish but Coco’s wartime dalliances were reportedly way dodgier than John’s corrosive utterances. Ill-advised drunken braggadocio, one imagines, rather than in vino veritas. Either way, the seam queen has stitched himself up spectacularly.

Gordon Ramsay

Timed to perfection like a soufflé in one of his kitchens - on the odd occasion, that is, when Big Sweary isn't busy berating lesser mortals in theirs - up pops Britain’s most watchable TV kitchen nightmare since Fanny Craddock to banish those post-Crimbo blues. Best giggle of 2011 so far? Those post cosmetic-procedure pics showing what happens when vanity, ego, a brand to promote and money-no-object collide. You haven’t seen them? Think cabbage patch doll with a face swollen like a half-cooked Fray Bentos pie. When he’s not emoting - that hilarious, icky, open letter to Mummy-in-law - he’s off playing the manly chest-flashing action hero in Costa Rica, tracking down shady shark fin dealers only to be held at gunpoint and doused in petrol by the cheeky f*****  who presumably confused new improved white skin Michelin Man for a giant baked Alaska. Ramsbo, comedy legend, we salute you.  

Pete Doherty

Garrard, Asprey and Bulgari must be quaking in their Louboutin boots. The big jewellery news is that the nation’s favourite Babyshambles is doing a Jade Jagger, designing a range of luxury baubles in conjunction with Hannah Martin, late of Cartier. Given his street appeal, I’d have thought his collection, Albion Trinketry, would be perfect for Argos to add to the dazzling bling they offer from other latter-day Benvenuto Cellinis such as er, Justin Bieber, Lily Allen and Alesha Dixon, but it’s reported that the porky chops pork pie hat wearer’s gear is to sell exclusively through upmarket clothing chain, Joseph. Apparently, the muse for his collection is none other than Doherty himself, so expect vein (sic) urban junkies to be lining up in droves. There's said to be a selection of pins, cufflinks and the rest of the distressed dandy around town wardrobe staples but will he do spoon brooches? Whatever!  The good news is that if Pete works in tin foil, you’re unlikely to be mugged by some zonked-out smackhead fixing to flog it for a score at the nearest pawn shop.

Cheryl Cole

At 9.51 pm on Sunday, our queen of hearts made a decision that would affect us like no billions in Coalition cuts ever could. Now, 250,000 Facebookers are demanding ‘off with her head’ and death threats have been issued. Her crime? Putting two contestants through to the next round of a game show. Now, some may lambast X-Factor as orchestrated farce but, to Chezza - delirium, a side effect of malaria, possibly - it all feels real. Will promoting a hard-faced Machiavellian Madonnabe desperate to ‘be a legacy’ and some croaky wee anchovy who’d make an excellent lead in Mrs. Overall, The Musical (thanks to Marina O Loughlin for that apercu) prove more fatal than any mozzie’s bite? If the ambition of one modest wee soul with a big voice is really to be rewarded with a free one-way ticket to Harare, in Chezza’s shoes, I’d sod off to the States with SyCo. You what? Americans wouldn’t understand a single word? Better stay and tough it out, pet lamb. Cheryl Rocks? Not according to most of Scotland and all of Zimbabwe