'Fall Out: A Memoir of Friends Made and Friends Unmade', Janet Street-Porter

I’ve only known Janet Street-Porter in the comparative twilight of her career, appearing as a talking head on various compliation programmes, a guest presenter on The F Word and writing in the Independent. As with Julie Burchill, I mostly know about her past as a youth icon in, well, her self-penned articles about being a youth icon. So clearly I’m a glutton for punishment, reading her autobiography.

The most surprising thing about it is how badly written it is - JSP is a journalist, for God’s sake! And it’s not simply unliterary but sloppy and inconsistent. The paragraphs jump between time and space every half page, and stories which were just about to begin abruptly end. The content might have been interesting but I was so distracted by the clear evidence of someone absent - mindedly dictating to a secretary and then having it transcribed, that I lost motivation.

All of which is a shame as there’s something irresistibly appealing about vilified women in the media. The sheer venom that JSP has attracted, largely for her accent, appearance and confidence, is indicative of far more than simple aesthetics. Woe betide her her success, driven by a pig-headed determination and a daring to be willfully different just to provoke. I don’t particularly admire the specific choices she made – it’s clear why so many friends were ‘’unmade’’ – but I rejoice that women like her exist, to question, challenge and shake things up and not stop shouting until people react. Pity she can’t write better books.