More than just for show

Brit Awards 2008: One of the world's biggest, most entertaining and most significant award shows - at least for the music business - went down last night, and took a whole lot of pleasant honourings with it. Also, some fantastic performances - and just wins. First and foremost, congratulations to Kylie Minogue for her "Internation female" award, which was a most well-earnt, rightful distinction for this spectacular little lady, of whom one can now be a fan both for her singing achievements and for her acting work on "Doctor Who"; no less! And who else to announce the winning but the ever-so-adorable Doctor himself, David Tennant! Perfect idea, perfect pick, and massive fangirl squee! The two of them reunited, on stage together for the first time since Christmas, and it looked...pretty cosy. They have obviously bonded firmly since their appearance on the show, and now seem the best of friends. One can speculate if there's even something more to it. She did deny - with striking sincerity - the allegations that she is with Olivier Martinez again, to give that relationship a new try, so there's still hope. I, for my part, would love to see her and David getting serious. Come on, he's the most likeable man in the Universe. Next to Gerry Butler, that is. He has pretty glasses, he actually thinks he can travel in time, he loves his job, his fans and everone he meets - evidently - and he wears his velour suits so extremely well. Also, it didn't decrease my amount of fanciful schemings when he declared that Kylie "loved a bit of velour" too. Hence, their Brits appearance seemed so cute and nice and appropriate; from a DW fanatic point of view. I couldn't care less if the Christmas Special was awful overall - bad action bad plot bad extras bad everything else - since this brilliant couple made it worth watching despite all the flaws. Sparks kept flying between them, constantly, their chemistry and exchange of dialogue (and kissing) was excellent. Electric. I have to admit, and I really can't explain this so please don't ask me to, that I would much rather have (had) Kylie's Astrid Perth as a permanent companion for The Doctor than Freema's Martha Jones. Donna set aside, for there is no way I can view Catherine Tate objectively, nor her choice of roles, she is a Goddess - consequently the comparison must be between these two other girls, and I prefer Kylie wholeheartedly. Might be because I've always loved her music. Might be because I've always loved Kylie, although I seriously doubted she could act. And she probably can't. Not really. But I mean - it's Kylie. After all, she's an icon and an institution of her own - which she proved by her stunning performance of new hit single "WOW" at the same Brit Awards, an obvious favourite moment of the evening - in addition to the whole DW-reunion. A culmination of quality; talent, experience and style. Which she always contributes; being a true professional and old school entertainer. I remember all the expectations when it was confirmed she was going to be on Doctor Who, my own mixed anticipations of fear and joy, maybe she would ruin my favourite TV show, and when she turned up on screen, she was simply gorgeous and made such an effort to utter her terrible lines with a minimum of dignity, and boy it worked; at least to have her there, to have Kylie join forces with the Doc and make it fit; seem natural; it was just too cool to be true. Kind of relived that joy by seeing her and David hugging and smiling and all; live and in front of an audience, they were so absorbed in one another she almost forgot whom she was supposed to thank for the award when she eventually got her hands on it. (And off of said David.) Well, I like to read stuff into this, anyway. She was rather overwhelmed, of course, which she stated later on as well, but it sure didn't help that she had to receive the prize statue from a guy who is handsome as Hell and wildly charming and whose irresistability is off the scale. And he's Scottish. Poor Kylie. Or, come to think of it, bloody fortunate Kylie. I should be so lucky, my ass. He had the expression of a glowing, expectant school boy when he stood up there waiting for her. AND he lifted her up into the freakin' air, just like he did with Rose. I had flashbacks! Blissful ones! Billie's married now, after all, even having celebrated this with a pair of matching tattoos for her and husband Laurence Fox, which they had made whilst on honeymoon - and it would be kind of super-sweet to have The Doctor and Astrid snogging in real life. Ultimate celebrity match-making. We may dream - a little. And make fancy wallpapers to celebrate; both Kylie's victory and the merry opportunities. Oh, am I a fangirl. The utmost pleasingness of being a fangirl - can't ever be denied. Especially not when the fandom representatives contribute to my musings and illusions -likeso:

[Image: PhotoShop artwork by Scara; because I love Kylie, because I love David, because I love anything with the both of them in it that simultaneously alludes to Doctor Who, which I love, and I love PhotoShop too - by the way. All rights served and do not steal for evil purposes.]

Moreover, a humble nod to Sir Paul McCartney, another hero of minem who got his own statue in honour of his "Oustanding Contribution to Music" - and I couldn't approve more! The man is a proper genius, to paraphrase Kylie who presented him with the gong, nice to see her once again, and it's nice of them to give him something to mend his wounds after the terrible court affair with Heather Ugly Bugger Mills. May the woman rot, and someone keep her quiet from now on. He deserved so much better, and got something too worse. Poor man. I wish him great luck, and happiness, and hope he sticks to his promise about turning back to what he does best; music. I'll love him regardless, though. He's offered the world a unique legacy of far-from-silly love songs and compositions and beautiful ballads that'll live on forever; an awe-inspiring, one-in-a-million, fabulous and utterly memorable musician - parallelled only by the likes of Freddie, Brian et co. And - finally, good to see Amy Winehouse returning to the big stage, a lot lately, if not entirely in shape yet. She did look a little worse for wear, during her last performance. A little uncertain, to say the least; stuttering, shaking, fumbling, voice quivering, dance moves slipping - altogether quite "wobbly", as the Daily Mail chose to put it. But she's back on her feet, apparently due to methadon and proper treatment, and her mom's care, for which we should all be relieved and happy. Whether she's truly content with her new condition is a wholly different matter. But she sings, and she dances; she doesn't simply groan and jump about; which is a wonderful change - from recent, other events where she was in a far more terrible state. The show, on the whole, was a delightful experience with some great acts and some scandals and an abhorring group of hosts (The Osbournes, what gives!) and loads of swearing, see-through dresses (ugh!), other ugly outfits, drunk rock'n'rollers, tiny WAGS, big ladies (GO Beth Ditto!!), noticeable appearances from people I admire a lot; MIKA was there - and he sang! (WITH Beth Ditto!!), and Leona Lewis made a glamorous and impressive manifestation of her vocal abilities; in an incredible dress, and then there was...David Tennant. With a literally star-studded shirt. Lookin' good. Happiness in a gaze!