Shazza wasn’t really there
I’ve returned from Auckland and L’Oréal Colour Trophy 2006, where I presented the Lucire Fashion Magazine Award to Jock Robson of Dharma. Jock’s entry, I was happy to note, was a ﬁnalist for the Supreme Award that night, too, meaning that I have a similar eye to the international judges from the UK and Canada.
Brigid is visiting family, meaning my date for the evening was an old friend, whose boyfriend was in the audience somewhere. In case anyone was wondering. It was also nice seeing Amber Peebles there, another old friend, but I don’t know where she disappeared off to during the evening.
I believe my opinion, that these are the Oscars of Hair, is not without merit. Making a quip about lacking a co-presenter—only the big awards that night had two presenters, as with the Academy Awards—was appropriate. Although I was holding the envelope, it was fun to ask for it: ‘May I have the envelope, please? Thank you, Sharon [Stone].’
I had wanted to say more and talk up Lucire, but the previous presenter, Headway editor and actress Charmaine Guest, simply came out and said, ‘And the winner is …’ It was hard to say anything of greater length after that.
Charmaine admitted to being nervous in front of 1,200 people, even though she had ﬁlmed a rather steamy love scene a few years back for a TV adaptation of Foreskin’s Lament. The old rule about public speaking being tough seems to hold true for many. I believe it is mental: with the bright lights, I could hardly see the audience.
It was also a pleasure to meet local TV personalities Mikey Havoc and Jaquie Brown, who each had changing rooms downstairs—a sign of stardom. Regular presenters like me got their hair done with the models. Jaquie has mastered the arts of self-deprecation and comedy timing, in my view—but you have to be a comedian to work with John Campbell.
I seem to be running into comedians lately, with Pio Terei appearing on Good Morning last Friday. And for those (Johnnie Moore included) who wanted to hear the rest of my “wall of penises” story that I began, there wasn’t much more. Brendon’s West Coast conservatism did kick in.
Curious about what the nurses were referring to, I tried to take a peek and put my head in. Mum’s reaction was swift: she covered my eyes. We both left. It was an anecdote about one contact with the health system and it was meant to segue into Mum’s experiences being a cancer patient. The health system, as I explained, is not about curing people, but ensuring that a ﬁnancial industry remains in treating illnesses and keeping certain companies and the medical establishment rich. This, I believe, goes some way to explaining why some men prefer not to see doctors for a regular check-up, rather than machismo.
And I managed to get some political humour in, referring to the Foreign Minister of New Zealand outside Cabinet and Barry’s run-in with him.
We in New Zealand need it. It has been too long since McPhail & Gadsby—and we are more sophisticated now. Posted by Jack Yan, 11:32
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