My favourite episode of The Oprah Winfrey Show of all time was one in which she, Saint Oprah, interviewed siblings of celebrities. On this particular show – which aired almost two decades now, so forgive me if the specifics are a little fuzzy – the audience met people with names like "Don Swayze", whose faces were almost familiar, but not quite. They looked like the daytime TV biopic drama versions of their siblings and all of them were so pitiably desperate to be famous in their own right that they deluded themselves that riding on the coat-tails of their siblings was the path to such glory. Those of us who saw and were similarly impacted by this episode of The Oprah Winfrey Show (RIP) were thus well prepared for the emergence of that rebuttal to Darwinism in human form, the reality TV contestant. Thanks to these folk, by the time Entourage debuted I knew that Drama, the celebrity's pathetic brother on that show (who was, of course, played by Kevin Dillon, another celebrity's brother), was a ridiculous understatement.
This preamble, as well as allowing me to indulge in some sentimentality for The Oprah Winfrey Show, brings me to Philippa Middleton, known to the world as Pippa, the 29-year-old sister of someone who married into the royal family.
Maybe it's because, until last month, I'd been living in the US for the past few years that despite her ubiquity in the British press I've never had much of an opinion about Pippa Middleton (or maybe it's because, being a hitherto silent Sloane, there's not much of an opinion to be had). But having spent the past weekend nose-deep in her debut tome, Celebrate: A Year of British Festivities for Families and Friends, I now have plenty of opinions about Ms Middleton. To anyone fretting that dear beloved Penguin will lose its uniquely cerebral identity when it is swallowed by corporate Random House, allow me to recommend Celebrate by Pippa Middleton, which is published by Michael Joseph, which is part of the Penguin Group.
Now, I would like to say from the start that I'm sure Pippa is a perfectly sweet young woman. She is also, judging from the photos inside, particularly skilled at wearing cosy knitwear which, while not necessarily what one can call a skill, is still, in some circles – Pippa's circles – seen as a valued asset. "This is my first chance to [paint a picture of myself], and I have enjoyed every minute of it," Pippa writes in the introduction. I suspect that on many levels Celebrate really is a mirror reflection of the woman herself: expensively packaged, sleekly styled, stuffed with bland inanities and dizzy with images of Pippa and interchangeable posh young men in fleeces. If you ever wondered what being Pippa would be like, wonder no more.
On the subject of "global recognition", Pippa admits that "it has its upside and downside ... I am by nature an optimist, so I tend to concentrate on the advantages. One of the most attractive has been the chance to publish Celebrate."
Only one of the most attractive, mind. While snark does play havoc with one's digestion, it is impossible to suppress the thought that the most attractive advantage was to be paid a £400,000 advance to knock out a book that has the following insider tips inside:
"For Halloween, a pointy hat, fake hair and a broom [make] a witch's outfit."
"When hosting a party, move any clutter from the space where you're entertaining."
"Nearly any breakfast becomes special when it's brought to you in bed."
"Tea bags should go in the teapot, rather than individually in mugs."
A guide on how to have an Easter egg hunt ("An adult hides a selection of eggs. They should be low down within easy reach of children.")
One cannot blame Pippa for being offered close to half a million pounds to provide guidance about how to make a cup of tea. For that, blame Penguin for being so keen to take advantage of Pippa's vague sheen of fame that it rushed this bland young woman into publishing such a high-profile book. One can, though, question whether she is truly in the right career if, after years of hacking it out at the coalface of her parents' party-planning company, Party Pieces, the most she can offer is tea-making tips.
Being a celebrity's sibling needn't involve the kind of public humiliation that the guests on Oprah's show were prone to. Nor does being connected to royalty, or even quasi royalty, mean a life sentence of mediocrity. Yet Pippa is neither saucy enough to be as fun as Princess Margaret, nor fabulous enough to be as intriguing as Lee Radziwill, Jackie Onassis's sister.
All she needs is to find something she is genuinely good at that won't look as if she is bilking her connections. So here, out of the goodness of my heart, is a selection of job ideas for Pippa:
a) Be a designer's muse
I worked on this newspaper's fashion desk for almost a decade and I still don't know what a designer's muse does. But whatever it is, I feel certain Pippa could do it with aplomb.
b) Be a consultant
Again, no idea what this is. But it sounds bland and boring and is the kind of thing posh people tend to do.
c) Be a Boden model
I've seen the proof: she can do this.
d) Work with children in the developing world
Whatever.