That’s a bit random

An interior designer who is besties with half of Hollywood just followed me on Instagram.


I was so suss when I saw the message on my phone.

I thought it had to be the latest Insta scam … now all those follows from porn stars and lovelorn men with weird Insta handles have ebbed away.

Being an overthinker, I became waaaaaay too preoccupied with that innocuous “follow”. Why did a Hollywood interior designer follow me on Instagram? Why?

Admittedly, I follow most of her celebrity friends, but not because I know them or anything. It’s just a hangover from when I was a gossip writer.

She’s also friends with the editor of US InStyle magazine – Laura Brown – who I kinda once knew and follow.

Many, many moons ago I tried to convince Laura to be my Deputy Editor on Woman’s Day. She was sooooo disinterested in working for my little gossip rag – she had big plans for her future.

I thought she was mad dismissing the chance to work for second biggest selling magazine in Australia, but it turns out she was incredibly canny. If she’d taken the Woman’s Day job it would have screwed her chances of being beloved by the stars.

She’s since become a celeb in her own right – her Instagram feed is crammed with photos of her cuddling every star on the planet.

Here she is with Woody Harrelson on her lap …

It goes to show that if you chase your dreams with passion and conviction, anything is possible.

It was my dream once too – I wanted to be the Molly Meldrum of celebrity journalism, mates with all the stars and the only person they’d let interview them during their Aussie visits …

Laura is living my teen fantasies. Go her!

It still doesn’t explain why her interior designer friend followed me though.

Maybe it was some weird mistake, like the time the Mayor accidentally friend requested me on Facebook.

I’m also followed by a few celebs including Neil Finn and Marcia Hines on Twitter. The former is because I followed him and he tends to follow everyone back (damn, I thought it was my wit) and I have no idea about Marcia Hines.

There are also famous people I’m proper friends with on Facebook from my magazine days, who have gone on to become authors and commentators and editors of some of the biggest titles in Australia. We rarely see each other any more, other than accidental meetings at Bluesfest and the like, but it’s nice to see how they’re going via social media.

These days I’m pretty whatever on the idea of having famous mates. I’m more interested in how nice you are than your prominence in Google searches.

The final nail in the fame coffin came yesterday when I was looking through a gallery of photos from the Met Gala and this terrifying pic of the Olsen twins popped up:

Cosmpolitan raved “Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen Are Perfect As Ever at the 2018 Met Gala” and noted “Just another reminder that these two are living, breathing style icons”.

Vogue wrote: “The Olsens Just Schooled Everyone on Twinning Beauty at the Met Gala 2018.”

I wrote: “Picture proof that having everything can mean nothing.”

They just look so thin and sad.

Give me the curvy suburban single mum life any day.

Song of the day: Fairground Attraction “Perfect”

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