Karoline (with a K) is apoplectic. As one of “the PR thought leaders of her generation” (self-proclaimed) she wants to know why she wasn’t asked to contribute to The Grocer’s bonfire of the horsemeat vendors last week. “Who are these jumped up pipsqueak nonentities?” she asks, referring to the PR pundits, not the dishy septet of supermarket bosses they were analysing. “Frauds and charlatans to a man! Titty, get me in there,” she barks, disconcertingly pointing at Malcolm Walker while she waves the magazine around. We’re going to try for a Saturday Essay on increasing your PR spend in the age of austerity…
I’m sulking, too. Anyone who has seen my full-length photo (sorry short-changed readers) will know that I am at least on a par with Pippa Middleton in the view-from-behind stakes. And I’ve been to more parties. So why has she got the Waitrose Kitchen gig? It can’t be on the basis of her literary abilities, as thoroughly proven by the publishing sensation of last year. It must be Waitrose’s ongoing royal toadying campaign. Apparently they’ve adapted their new drive-through store to accommodate Prince Phillip’s four-in-hand carriage. Arise Sir Mark?
Arise the comms team at UB anyway, whipping up a media frenzy over a ‘recipe change’ to McVitie’s choccy digestives, fully in line with my 2013 predictions on shameless publicity stunts. It’s only March and we’ve nearly completed the set. What will creatively drained PRs do for the rest of the year? Go on and on about ‘al desko’ eating by the look of it. We’re launching a Deskbound Diners Club via social media next week for consumer saps who want to be on trend. Stick that in your column, Pippa.