Alison Hammond's son Aidan reveals he'd flee home after disputes with star
The 20-year-old, who Hammond shares with her former fiancé Noureddine Boufaied, features alongside the This Morning presenter on the latest series of Celebrity Gogglebox.
Speaking on the Spin Justice podcast, Aidan said: 'When we were in the flat, she [his grandmother] had a house pretty much opposite us, so we could literally leave and run across the road.
'So, when my mum was doing my head in, I'd just go to my nan's' he explained.
Hammond's mother Maria died of lung and liver cancer in January 2020. The 20-year-old said he and his grandmother shared a 'very, very close' bond throughout his life.
'She's passed away now, but we were very close all the time – me, my mum and my nan – and that was kind of the little trio,' he said.
Hammond and her son will be joined by the presenter's sister, Sandra, on the new series of Celebrity Gogglebox, who the TV star has described as 'fabulous'.
She said in a statement ahead of the series: 'I'm so excited to be doing Celebrity Gogglebox with my son Aidan. We've always loved watching telly together and now we get to do it on the sofa for the nation.
'It's a real family affair too because my fabulous sister Sandra is getting involved as well. Expect laughs, eye rolls and lots of commentary, classic Hammond style!'
The 50-year-old This Morning star is now dating 27-year-old masseuse David Putman, who she says is 'so mature and sensible' despite their significant age gap.
Of Putman's relationship with her son, the presenter previously told the Parenting Hell podcast: 'When they met, he really liked him and thought he was lovely – and thank goodness for that! Normally, Aidan hates anyone I date.'
Celebrity Gogglebox airs on Fridays at 9pm on Channel 4.
Hashtags
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
Yahoo
39 minutes ago
- Yahoo
Royal Family Celebrates Pride with a Posh Rendition of a Beloved Queer Anthem
The British royal family joined in on the Pride celebrations. On Saturday, July 6, the official Instagram account for King Charles and Queen Camilla shared a video from the Pride of London Parade, which celebrated the conclusion of Pride month. The event featured more than 35,000 participants marching through the streets of London, from costumed drag queens to leather-clad bikers. In the clip, a band of Coldstream Guards — whose primary role is to protect the monarchy — played a song in front of Buckingham Palace, opting to do their version of Chappell Roan's "Pink Pony Club," which has been embraced by the queer community as a modern anthem. "Happy Pride! 🌈🪩," the post was captioned, to the glee of many commenters. "This is wonderful and has made me feel proud xx," one wrote, while another agreed, "We stan a royal ally 👏🏳️🌈." The royals have become more outspoken about LGBTQ+ issues in recent years. At an event spotlighting the issue of homelessness among queen youth in 2019, Prince William was asked what he would do if one of his children came out as gay one day. The heir to the throne shares three children — Prince George, 11, Princess Charlotte, 10, and Prince Louis, 7 — with wife Kate Middleton, and he said he would be "obviously, absolutely fine" with it. 'Do you know what, I've been giving that some thought recently because a couple of other parents said that to me as well,' William said at the time. 'I think you really don't start thinking about that until you are a parent, and I think — obviously, absolutely fine by me.' 'The one thing I'd be worried about is how they, particularly the roles my children fill, is how that is going to be interpreted and seen,' he said. 'So Catherine and I have been doing a lot of talking about it to make sure they were prepared.' The prince continued, 'I think communication is so important with everything, in order to help understand it, you've got to talk a lot about stuff and make sure how to support each other and how to go through the process. It worries me not because of them being gay, it worries me as to how everyone else will react and perceive it, and then the pressure is then on them.' The Brits aren't the only royals who embraced Pride month this year. In Norway, Maud Angelica Behn, the 22-year-old granddaughter of King Harald V and eldest daughter of Princess Martha Louise, announced that she was bisexual after attending Pride celebrations in Oslo. Can't get enough of PEOPLE's Royals coverage? to get the latest updates on Kate Middleton, Meghan Markle and more! "Happy pride from a [bisexual] person! 💖 💜 💙 🏳️ 🌈 🏳️ 🌈 🌈 🏳️ 💖️ 🫂️ ," she wrote alongside a slew of celebratiory emoji. "Pride this year was incredible and there was so much love💖💖💖 Many big hugs💖💖💖." Maud, the first member of the Norwegian royal family to publicly come out as queer, sported the blue, purple and pink colors of the bisexual flag for the event. Read the original article on People
Vogue
an hour ago
- Vogue
The Lavish Wedding of Consuelo Vanderbilt That Inspired The Gilded Age
At the end of The Gilded Age's latest episode, a deal is struck between the Duke of Buckingham and George Russell. The English aristocrat will receive an enormous sum to marry Gladys, the daughter of the railroad titan. In turn, Gladys will achieve a towering social rank. An upset Gladys confronts him about their arranged marriage, which was largely driven by the Duke's need to preserve his massive estate and his lifestyle. 'I hope that when you come to know me better, you'll agree that what I'm trying to preserve is worth preserving,' he says. Gladys accepts her fate, and a wedding is planned. The Gilded Age plotline of Gladys and the Duke echoes the real-life story of Consuelo Vanderbilt and the Duke of Marlborough, where the Duke received $100,000 yearly (around $3.2 million today) as well as $2.5 million in railroad stock (today, that would be around $81 million). In turn, Vanderbilt became the first American woman to hold the title of Duchess in history. Despite all the orchestration, the marriage was a failed one. They did, however, have an insanely lavish wedding. On November 6, 1895, the 18-year-old Consuelo Vanderbilt married Charles, the ninth Duke of Marlborough at St. Thomas's Church on 53rd Street and 5th Avenue in a morning ceremony. To say it was highly anticipated is an understatement: crowds gathered outside the church, as did the press, eager to see the high ranking British aristocrat wed one of the country's wealthiest women. In their dispatch from the nuptials, The New York Times called the inside of a church a 'fairyland.' 'Even those who are used to the most exquisite decorations were enchanted by the magnificent spectacle. The florist and his assistants worked diligently for days,' they added. The reporter then dedicated seven paragraphs alone to just the flowers: 'There was hardly an inch of stonework or an inch of woodwork that was not concealed by delicate and graceful vines or bunches of varicolored blossoms,' he wrote. From the church's dome hung garlands of flowers, lilies, roses, and chrysanthemums, which stretched all the way to the organ alcove, which was covered in climbing vines. Medallions of maple foliage adorned the galleries, whereas pews were accented by floral torches and feathery palms. Meanwhile, the choir stalls were covered in roses, lilies, and alpine violets. The writer also describes an abundance of pink and white cosmos, as well as holly.
Yahoo
an hour ago
- Yahoo
Oasis represent a self-confidence that is all but extinct in Britain today
Nostalgia, as they say, is a helluva drug. It is also freely available and widely consumed, especially now, as the Oasis concerts refill the air with an irresistible 1990s snarl. Who would begrudge anyone living their high old times at the moment? Certainly not me. There is no point, for instance, in arguing about whether Oasis are as good as they were 'back in the day' (as every hanger-on puts it). The Oasis reunion is selling a vibe that people clearly want to buy, even at ridiculous prices. The vibe is about something direct and uncomplicated, music from a simpler age. Or that is how many view the 1990s. Mass singalongs, blokey swagger, working-class lads on the rampage. Those, apparently, were the days. 'Please don't put your life in the hands/Of a rock'n'roll band/Who'll throw it all away' as the lyrics of Don't Look Back in Anger go. But they didn't throw it all away, did they? They cashed it in. Accompanying this tour are ads for sportswear. But no one minds about that kind of shameless commercialism when it comes to Oasis. In fact, it seems ridiculously purist to even think about it – even though so many working-class kids cannot get a break or earn any kind of living in the arts. The point is that Oasis broke through. This is about the joy of them. They were not grateful for their success – they owned it. Nothing like them could happen today. It's all different now. The same thought occurs watching the BBC's recent documentaries on Live Aid, which are full of incredible footage. It's 40 years since Bob Geldof and Midge Ure staged the huge concerts in Wembley and Philadelphia. This was an appeal for money for famine-stricken Ethiopia. Such a thing seems unimaginable these days. Unimaginable too, is Live 8, the string of benefit concerts that took place in the G8 countries and South Africa 20 years ago to coincide with the G8 summit being held at Gleneagles, Scotland. In retrospect, all of these concerts were remarkable in a number of ways. Geldof's absolute drive to do something after seeing the pictures of fly-ridden, starving children was immense. This drive seemed to cut through swathes of naysayers, of politicians, of cynics. The idea that back then we failed to see that a bunch of white-saviour pop stars trying to save famine-stricken Africans could possibly be iffy, paternalistic and politically naive is not true. There was always suspicion as well as acclaim around Live Aid. Geldof and, later on, Bono were educating themselves along the way. There was always a tension between pure emotion – Billy Connolly weeping in the studio at the images of dying children that David Bowie insisted be shown during his set – and what happened on the ground. Did the aid go to the people who needed it? Was the money raised being used by the Ethiopian former dictator Mengistu Haile Mariam to buy weapons from the Russians for his deadly civil war? The impulse to give and the righteousness of the cause remain admirable. The hard politics of interfering in a country that is crushing its own people are immensely complicated. Humanitarian aid groups such as Live Aid were accused by Médecins Sans Frontières of actually fuelling the crisis and the slaughter of the civil war. Geldof knew this and insists it was better to do something than not and it's hard not to agree. The older I get, the less cynical I become about such issues. All the criticisms thrown at Geldof would be amplified today. Detractors now would note there were not enough black artists in his line-ups. Does that diminish what he's done? Not when he has explained this by saying he simply wanted the biggest artists he could get, and there was no Stormzy in those days, no 'diversity hires'. Thankfully, back then, social media did not exist to slag off every politically incorrect move that Geldof made in his quest to get as much money as possible. Belief and pragmatism could win the day. Any nostalgia we may have for those times is surely for an era in which people could put aside 'the narcissism of small differences' (to use a phrase from Freud) for a larger goal. We are nostalgic for the kind of idealism this represents, whether it's Live Aid's desire to help those worse off than ourselves, or Oasis's unbridled, rebellious confidence. Such idealism now seems to be a thing of the past. The world we live in now is full of worries about the advance of AI, climate change, perpetual war. It is an anxious place to be and I am so tired of being told how terrible everything is. So who can blame those bouncing to Oasis, in communal bliss, escaping into the analogue times, the pre-cancellation times? When being mouthy and hedonistic was not a sin, and we were living for cigarettes and alcohol. Living forever. I want to Be Here Now. To live in the present, not to locate optimism squarely in the past. Oasis and the Live Aid nostalgia have made me realise how dependent we all are on each other and reminded me of the stoicism of our great country. We used to be able to hope. Can't we still? Broaden your horizons with award-winning British journalism. Try The Telegraph free for 1 month with unlimited access to our award-winning website, exclusive app, money-saving offers and more.
