HOUSTON, we have a jealousy problem.
This week, six extraordinary women soared 62 miles above Earth aboard Jeff Bezos’ Blue Origin rocket, becoming the first all-female crew to cross the Kármán line in over 60 years.
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Katy Perry along with Aisha Bowe, Lauren Sanchez, Kerianne Flynn, Gayle King and Amanda N. Nguyen after blasting into spaceCredit: The Mega Agency
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The reaction following the Blue Origin launch was nothing short of jealousyCredit: The Mega Agency
It was historic. Emotional. Pink moon overhead.
Pop icon Katy Perry even burst into What a Wonderful World mid-flight. And yet, before they’d even landed, they were being dragged back down to Earth—not by gravity, but by some of our so-called ‘sisters’.
Model and professional scolder Emily Ratajkowski declared the mission “end time s**t,” slamming the women for participating in a space trip funded by the billionaire devil of greed and environmental destruction. She asked, “For what? What was the marketing there?”
Well Emily, you might want to take that up with Kim Kardashian, who reportedly was invited — but instead of boarding, she sent Skims. Because unlike some, Kim recognises a good branding opportunity when she sees one.
Others, like Vicky Pattison, mocked the flight, saying it looked like a group of “uber-rich women fired into space in a schlong-shaped spaceship.”
Yes, because heaven forbid a woman should dare to take up space—literally or metaphorically—without first apologising for it.
But perhaps the most telling backlash was aimed not at the mission itself, but at what the women wore.
Critics sniffed that they looked “too glamorous” for space, as though they should’ve turned up in sackcloth and Birkenstocks.
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Listen, if people can spend five figures on a wedding dress for an afternoon’s swirl around a country house, I’d argue an outfit for the edge of the Earth deserves a bit of razzmatazz.
You’d think an all-woman mission, which included a civil rights activist, a former NASA rocket scientist, and a TV icon like Gayle King, might inspire some sense of solidarity. But no.
Instead, it’s “You go girl — but not too far.” It’s worth remembering the barriers these women smashed through just to get here. The first woman in space, Valentina Tereshkova, flew in 1963. Since then, fewer than 100 women have followed compared to more than 600 men.
When Sally Ride prepped for her historic 1983 flight, NASA engineers asked if she’d need 100 tampons for a week-long mission. Yes, 100. For one woman. For one week.
That’s not a punchline — it became one, though, in the parody song “100 Tampons.” Hilarious if it weren’t true.
Bold move, Mickey
Mickey Rourke wants his full £500,000 Big Brother fee after being hoofed out for bad behaviour.
Half a million quid for skulking about like your mate’s weird uncle at Christmas who brings his dog and doesn’t speak to anyone? Bold move, Mickey.
But here’s the thing: he did show up. He gave us sulks, strops and more mood swings than the weather this Easter. Technically, that’s showbiz. Producers didn’t book him for his calm demeanour — they booked him because he’s Mickey Bloody Rourke.
He doesn’t do polite. He does pyrotechnics.
Still, if he broke the rules — refused to participate, got aggressive or treated the housemates like background extras in The Wrestler — then sorry pal, that’s not entertainment, that’s a HR issue.
Big Brother thrives on drama, but not when it starts resembling a hostage situation. Paying him in full would be like giving a gold star to the kid who set the classroom on fire.
Then again, no one was watching for balance and mindfulness. Rourke was chaos wrapped in a kimono, and chaos sells.
Love him or loathe him, he did the job: Everyone’s talking.
And so now ITV are reviewing the situation after Mickey’s team revealed they’re weighing legal action over his reduced fee — and a £50,000 hotel bill they claim he’s now stuck with. So, should he get the full fee? Maybe not. But give him half and a Greggs black card for effort.
So, forgive me if I don’t join the “how dare they?” chorus. When women finally do get launched skywards, the least we could do is clap instead of clutch our pearls.
Of course, space tourism is a complex issue. Environmental impact, billionaire ego-trips, and wealth inequality are all fair points.
But when a mission explicitly centred on female representation, role modelling and unity becomes the target of women mocking other women? That’s not progress.
If we are suffering from feminism fatigue, maybe there’s an iron supplement equivalent we can prescribe: the sustaining power of great female friendship.
Florence Pugh recently declared she’s too busy for a relationship. Florence, you’re speaking my love language.
Gene Hackman footage is too raw
We weren’t invited into Gene Hackman and Betsy Arakawa’s home — and yet here we are.
The bodycam footage feels like an episode of Hoarders: Buried Alive, except it’s not. It’s real, and it’s recent, and it’s heartbreaking.
Not just because of the tragedy, but because of the way we’ve wandered, uninvited, into the wreckage of someone’s private life.
What was once a home — full of love, eccentricity, and whatever version of order they lived by — now plays out like evidence. It’s jarring. The kind of footage that stays with you.
We’ve grown used to polished celebrity interiors: white sofas, scented candles, houseplants with names. This was none of that. This was mess, grief, loyalty — a dog still guarding the life that was.
We’ve slipped through the keyhole into something too raw, too recent — not shocking because of what we saw, but because we were never meant to see it.
Most of my life has looked the same. It’s made me realise something radical: the loves of my life are my girlfriends.
No man has ever matched the unwavering, unjudging, laugh-until-we-cry kind of love I get from the women around me.
And honestly? Attracting brilliant women is my superpower. If one of them told me she was heading to space, I’d be on the launchpad holding a banner and a bottle of prosecco.
In a galaxy far, far away, I like to believe there’s space for women supporting other women.
Maybe it doesn’t have to be that far.