One of the greatest crosses to bear for the female celebrity is having to ingest your own placenta once you’ve delivered your baby.
A cultural tradition dating back to as early as 2003, it’s fair to say the practice is hugely misunderstood by non-celebrities. In a very real sense, it’s a form of discrimination for a civilian such as myself to say: ‘Look, love, you’ve just been relieved of a womb-guest. You want to be enjoying margaritas and blue steaks, not having your own offal served back to you by some Ugg-booted witch doctor with a Range Rover Evoque.’
For celebrities, then, placenta consumption is a ritual that knits you into a rich postpartum heritage that includes the likes of January Jones and Alicia Silverstone. Needless to say, when little Suri Cruise made her debut, Mommy is thought to have gone hungry so that Daddy could hog the experience. “I’m going to eat the placenta,” Tom Cruise told GQ shortly before the birth. “I’m going to eat the cord and the placenta right there.”
Of course, there have been some technological advances as far as the practice is concerned, as detailed by Kim Kardashian shortly after the recent birth of her second child, Saint. “I’m having it freeze-dried and made into pill form,” she explained on her website. “Not actually fry it like a steak and eat it (which some people do BTW).”
Latest to conform to cultural norms is Coleen Rooney, who along with husband Wayne last week welcomed son Kit. Mere days after the birth, Coleen took to Twitter to post a picture of a hefty bolus-packed jar – complete with blue gingham bow – bearing the label “Placenta Encapsulation Service”.
“Looking forward to starting my capsules,” claimed Coleen, adding a “Thank you xx” to Liverpool-based firm Placenta Plus.
A glance at this organisation’s social-media presence reveals its purpose to be: “Helping mummy’s recover from birth with the most natural remedy around.” My God! As hinted, I wouldn’t submit to this fringe quackery for anyone, but – without coming over all Telegraph letters page about it – the thought of doing it under the auspices of a firm that can’t even pluralise is too horrifying for word’s.
Take my respirator away
Thrilling news from Jerry Bruckheimer, whose Twitter feed is as every bit as synthetically explosive as his cinematic body of work.
This week is no exception, as the legendary producer posted a picture of himself, 70, and Tom Cruise, 53, that is a veritable study in ageing the Hollywood way.
That slightly mesmeric quality aside, the important thing is the content of the message: “Just got back from a weekend in New Orleans to see my old friend @TomCruise,” teases Jerry, “and discuss a little Top Gun 2.”
Shriek! Quite how much more there is to discuss now Val Kilmer has pre-emptively signed his ass up is unclear. We can all surmise that this one is going to have a twilight-of-the-dogfighters vibe, with the climactic mission against the quasi-Islamic State bad guys being somehow beyond today’s joystick-coddled drone operators. So for the love of God, Jerry, get on with it. Time waits for no man – although, admittedly, he does seem to be bending some rules for you in a way I can’t quite put my finger on.
