Diary
Elizabeth Hurley deserves a damehood
With the boiling, broiling summer here in Provence now at an end, it’s time to start thinking about rehearsing for…
How Damien Hirst ruined Devon
There are few better locations to resist la rentrée than the wilds of Exmoor. The late August heather and gorse.…
Don’t cancel Queen
Another week, another whitewash. The latest chunk of culture to be painted out of existence is ‘Fat Bottomed Girls’, Queen’s…
London theatre needs Kevin Spacey
Lee Anderson, deputy chairman of the Conservative party, popped a few monocles by saying asylum seekers reluctant to stay on…
Why on earth did The Spectator support Brexit?
The temperature has hit 40°C in Crete, where I am writing this, and although there have been no fires, nothing…
My run-in with Nigel Farage
To think I once thought cricket dull. For more than 40 days and 40 nights, I have been gripped by…
I sledged Steve Smith for England
In this summer of sporting dramas, every patriotic sports fan likes to think he’s done his bit to help. I…
Diary
When someone asks ‘How are you?’ you have to assume your interlocutor is only being polite. Anyone who returns a…
