Pattern Recognition

The question on at least one person's lips since the publishing sensation of the second week in January hit the stores is: can Robyn Wilder and Belle de Jour be [gasp]...one and the same person? Modest to the last, Ms Wilder insists that although she's indeed truffle-y versatile, the Jimmy Choos simply don't fit. Indeed, my confidant (heretofore known as Sore Throat) can exclusively debunk this crackpot theory with the argument that no-one who seems to throw so many sickies could ever moonlight as a working girl. No, the sad fact is Robyn's public school but NOT a streetwalker. Phew! Dead Kenny's piggybank is safe for a little while longer, then.

Of course, with Sore Throat's assistance, Dead Kenny has his own theories about the true identity of Belle de Jour, and a Rob Beasley-style dossier awaits whichever desperate broadsheet offers the most readies (he needs money fast if he's ever going to afford the Editors single which is already fetching £25 just a week after selling out within a couple of hours).

In an entirely unrelated matter, just as we thought we'd never underestimate Brooke's ubiquity, she pulls the rug once more on our preconceptions. The pathologist-DNA boffin-rowing fiend-short story writer has more hyphenates than any other Floridian outside of a Carl Hiassen novel but are we being a knit wit or can we now add another career sobriquet: that of war criminal? Consider the evidence of her post dated 30 January: 'Crocheting an afghan. Will post pics soon.' 'Fess up, who knew she'd transferred to Gu@nt@n@mo? Let's just hope she doesn't take the pics for processing down the High Street or she could find herself getting well and truly stitched up...