Hello and thank you for being a DL contributor. We are changing the login scheme for contributors for simpler login and to better support using multiple devices. Please click here to update your account with a username and password.

Hello. Some features on this site require registration. Please click here to register for free.

Hello and thank you for registering. Please complete the process by verifying your email address. If you can't find the email you can resend it here.

Hello. Some features on this site require a subscription. Please click here to get full access and no ads for $1.99 or less per month.

Joan Collins has been keeping a Coronavirus diary

Entering my 54th day of quarantine, I recall how much I was looking forward to this spring in England. There were so many exciting events and celebrations planned. Several friends were throwing big birthday bashes; I was picking up a couple of awards, performing my one-woman show, going to Cannes, and most exciting of all, participating in a plethora of events surrounding the VE Day celebrations. All of the above have gone with the proverbial wind, except for, in a small way, the latter. The Queen’s Pageant Master, Bruno Peek, asked me if I could lead the nation’s toast to our heroes and heroines of the second world war.

VE Day dawned sunny and hot. Percy and I festooned the balcony with Union Flags and bunting, and at 3 p.m. I went out to face a battery of photographers down in the street. I made a short speech and Percy popped a bottle of Pol Roger. Since several neighbours and a few friends had come to commemorate with us, we went outside to join them, maintaining the two-metre rule (even though we’re the only country that demands such large distancing). We enjoyed a mini ‘street party’, laughing and joking, and for a happy hour forgot about the devastating times we’re living in.

I’ve always thought western society was terribly ageist, and I don’t just mean ‘showbiz’ folk but across the board. Then our government insisted the ‘over-seventies’ (horrible expression) were part of the ‘vulnerables’ (an even more horrible expression) and should remain in lockdown (the most horrible expression of all) until a vaccine is found. That was utter discrimination against the hardy individuals who have no health issues. But more harmful was bolstering the existing belief among the general public (and prospective employers) that the old should keep out of everyone’s way. Just before lockdown we were planning to have dinner with Piers Morgan and when I texted him to check if it was still on, I received a manifesto explaining that he ‘didn’t want to be responsible’ for my untimely death! The 88-year-old actor who plays Ken Barlow in Coronation Street is allegedly barred from work for this same reason. On a recent exercise walk in the park, my dear friend Christopher Biggins was accosted twice by ‘coronags’ yelling that someone of his age should be at home. I am in this ‘over-seventies’ group but, having never defined myself by age, I’m not about to start now. I married a man three decades younger, and at my last check-up my GP said I was ‘stunningly healthy’. I am lucky to possess enormous energy and enthusiasm for life. In fact, my husband is often quoted saying that I had to marry a younger man as my pace would probably have killed someone my own age by now. There are hundreds of thousands of others who feel the same way. Sadly, ageism is the last tolerated prejudice. We are not allowed to refer to people as fat and yet it has now been proven that to be obese (almost one third of the UK population) is one of the major contributing factors in Covid deaths. However, if the government had dared to propose that they too should remain confined it would cause outrage.

Offsite Link
by Anonymousreply 7May 26, 2020 3:38 AM

[quote] Percy and I festooned the balcony with Union Flags and bunting, and at 3 p.m. I went out to face a battery of photographers down in the street.

If I ever got a chance to write such a sentence in my diary... and have it be true!

She [bold]IS[/bold] Moira Rose!

by Anonymousreply 1May 26, 2020 2:44 AM

Joan is one of those celebrities I like less each time she opens her mouth.

by Anonymousreply 2May 26, 2020 3:03 AM

I've missed so many parties in my honor. And awards. Sure, Joan.

by Anonymousreply 3May 26, 2020 3:13 AM

Love Dame Joan. She's 87. If the rest of her days are social gatherings, parties, festivities, serving the queen and doing what she wants...then good for her.

Offsite Link
by Anonymousreply 4May 26, 2020 3:17 AM

The first two paragraphs are cringey for her lack of self-awareness. By the third paragraph, she makes an excellent observation.

by Anonymousreply 5May 26, 2020 3:23 AM

Dear Diary: The day began much as any other, with Percy removing the stretchers from my face before giving me my morning transfusion. It had completely slipped my mind that today was my 100th birthday, but dear Percy managed to festoon our home plastic surgery suite with bunting and had invited some of our neighbors to share toasts of Ensure to welcome the day. That bitch Olivia deHaviland got press today just because she rode a giant tricycle at 103, so this afternoon, an absolute gaggle of paparazzi are gathering under my balcony to watch me perform a tableau vivant of the Queen's coronation. It promises to be quite the spectacle...

by Anonymousreply 6May 26, 2020 3:25 AM

I remember some critic on the 80s saying the Brits were perplexed at Joan's success over here across the pond. That over there, she was just a faded actress of B-movies.

by Anonymousreply 7May 26, 2020 3:38 AM
Loading
Need more help? Click Here.

Yes indeed, we too use "cookies." Take a look at our privacy/terms or if you just want to see the damn site without all this bureaucratic nonsense, click ACCEPT. Otherwise, you'll just have to find some other site for your pointless bitchery needs.

×

Become a contributor - post when you want with no ads!