Latest news with #LizHurley
The Sun
2 days ago
- Entertainment
- The Sun
Miley Cyrus breaks silence on dad Billy Ray's romance with Liz Hurley as she reveals her ‘pain at parents' divorce'
MILEY Cyrus has broken her silence over dad Billy Ray's relationship with Liz Hurley — after reconciling with him following a family rift. The Wrecking Ball singer, 32, opened up that she was handling the blossoming romance like 'an adult'. 3 3 Miley fell out with the country star, 63, after the end of his 30-year marriage to her mum Tish Purcell, 58, in 2023. But she now wishes 'happiness' to her three-times wed dad and Liz, 59, despite struggling with the 'pain' of seeing her parents go their separate ways. Miley said: 'I'm being an adult about it. 'At first it's hard, because the little kid in you reacts before the adult in you can go, 'Yes, that's your dad, but that's just another person that deserves to be in his bliss and to be happy'. "My child self has caught up.' The former Disney Channel star said she puts her now-resolved issues down to her closeness to her mother — who had been Billy Ray's second wife after he divorced Cindy Smith in 1991. She told the New York Times podcast: 'My mum really loved my dad for her whole life, and I think being married to someone in the music industry and not being a part of it is obviously really hard. 'I think I took on some of my mom's hurt as my own because it hurt her more than it hurt me as an adult, and so I owned a lot of her pain.' Confirming she was fully reconciled with her dad, Miley added: 'There's been enough bridges now of time to get us all reconnected. I think timing is everything.' Billy Ray met Austin Powers star Liz on the set of their 2022 film, Christmas in Paradise. They went public with a loved-up picture in a field in April. We previously revealed Billy Ray had turned to Liz for help when his third marriage to Australian singer Firerose crumbled after seven months last year. An insider said: 'Everyone said they are world's apart but they are very similar — they have a lot in common and have the same interests and Billy is also very much her type.' Liz revealed last month that she is taking their relationship to the next level, by preparing to introduce him to her family. Billy is due to meet them next week in England when she celebrates her 60th birthday.
The Age
4 days ago
- Lifestyle
- The Age
Lighten up: How to press reset on winter fashion's dark default setting
This story is part of the May 31 edition of Good Weekend. See all 14 stories. How do I break out of black, my winter-fashion safety zone? When grey clouds gather, many people feel the need to compete by dressing top to toe in funereal black. This isn't a condition afflicting the population of Melbourne alone: erstwhile sun-worshippers as far afield as Coffs Harbour have been known to mourn the loss of beach days, pool parties and barbecues by donning turtlenecks, pants and dark blazers. Perhaps it's time, though, to let in a little light and embrace some winter white. I'm not suggesting a complete white-out à la Liz Hurley or disgraced rapper Sean Combs in the '90s: instead, feel your way in by wearing white pieces alongside your black staples (which might include a bomber or biker jacket, or one of those aforementioned blazers). Black boots anchor wide-cut white jeans, too, with dark accessories – such as a pair of killer shades to neutralise any new-outfit glare – sharpening the urban edge. If white still feels too stark, think about migrating to warmer shades of bone, ivory and oat.
Sydney Morning Herald
4 days ago
- Lifestyle
- Sydney Morning Herald
Lighten up: How to press reset on winter fashion's dark default setting
This story is part of the May 31 edition of Good Weekend. See all 14 stories. How do I break out of black, my winter-fashion safety zone? When grey clouds gather, many people feel the need to compete by dressing top to toe in funereal black. This isn't a condition afflicting the population of Melbourne alone: erstwhile sun-worshippers as far afield as Coffs Harbour have been known to mourn the loss of beach days, pool parties and barbecues by donning turtlenecks, pants and dark blazers. Perhaps it's time, though, to let in a little light and embrace some winter white. I'm not suggesting a complete white-out à la Liz Hurley or disgraced rapper Sean Combs in the '90s: instead, feel your way in by wearing white pieces alongside your black staples (which might include a bomber or biker jacket, or one of those aforementioned blazers). Black boots anchor wide-cut white jeans, too, with dark accessories – such as a pair of killer shades to neutralise any new-outfit glare – sharpening the urban edge. If white still feels too stark, think about migrating to warmer shades of bone, ivory and oat.
Irish Times
5 days ago
- Entertainment
- Irish Times
A big summer gig without tracking devices? There was only one for me
Recently I found myself standing at the edge of a sloped field that led down to a wide river. It was scenic and unspoilt, but it was also a damp Friday afternoon in March, and even with the undeniable presence of a castle in my peripheral vision the green space before me didn't look like anything magical or extraordinary. Yet it absolutely felt it. I was outside Slane Castle , and the field was empty of everything except the memories of Slane 1995 I was recovering in real time. With no photographs from the day to aid me, mapping those memories on to the topography of the site wasn't an automatic process. I was 15 when REM headlined, with Oasis second on the bill, and it was my first gig. Slane to me was an expanse of excitingly adult possibilities in which it was easy to lose yourself, lose your religion, lose a shoe. Now it just looked ... small. Some of the people I was with, from 'first Slane' generations both before and after mine, were also confused. Surely this postage stamp of a field wasn't the site of all those rite-of-passage concerts of such outsize significance in our lives. Could as many as 80,000 humans really squeeze into this innocuous-seeming incline? READ MORE Amazingly, on July 22nd, it will be a full 20 years since that big REM gig. (I say 20 because there's simply no way that 1995 is actually 30 years ago. I refuse to accept that calculation. I'm not three times the age I was then. That's just fantasy maths.) [ Liz Hurley playing The Deceased on a Channel 4 game show? It's camp and it's on-trend Opens in new window ] Slane: Oasis before their concert in 1995. Photograph: INM/Getty Since my semi-unexpected March visit to Slane in its undressed, non-concert mode, I've had another opportunity to think about 'REM plus special guests' and work out why no summer music adventure I had later could ever compare to its heady rush. It wasn't just that it was my first. When I talked to the music-industry expert Michael Murphy, a lecturer at the Institute of Art, Design and Technology in Dún Laoghaire, for an article about the flourishing of the Irish summer festival scene, he gave me a historical and sociological context that I didn't have at my fingertips in 1995. [ Inside Ireland's music festival industry: Vibrant and resilient but 'you can haemorrhage money very quickly' Opens in new window ] The first Slane in 1981, with Thin Lizzy headlining and U2 second on the bill, was a landmark moment in the professionalisation of Irish concert promotion, he said. So by the time I reached the banks of the Boyne, legions of nostalgics were probably already reminiscing about the good old days, but the culture of outdoor megagigs in Ireland was still in its relative infancy. Dates on the summer music calendar remained sparse. Murphy also spoke about how festivals sit at the intersection of the corporate experience and our desire for freedom – an intriguing source of potential tension. When Liam Gallagher made a pre-charts battle jibe about Blur, his onstage aside wasn't clipped up a million times By corporate experience he was referring to the influence of huge international companies, from global event promoters to drink-giant sponsors, on what is now called the 'experience economy'. It's no surprise that some recoil from this and seek alternatives. For many, however, I suspect that their sense of freedom is compromised not because of no-choice bars or sensibly tight security but because their employers, their parents and maybe even their children have the capacity to haunt them at gigs and festivals like ticketless stalkers. They do this via a powerful tracking device known as a phone. [ Festivals in Ireland 2025: From Longitude to All Together Now - a guide to 80 of the best Opens in new window ] Everybody at Slane 1995 would have been there without a phone, which is to say they were really, really there. The world beyond was a gruelling woodland hike away. For first-timers like me it was all one big discovery, worth every penny of the £25.50 plus return £10 bus fare we paid (the combined equivalent, according to the consumer price index, of not quite €66.50 today). Pre-Slane televisual reference points were relatively few. Already a decade had passed since Live Aid. It was only the second year that Glastonbury had been televised (then by Channel 4). RTÉ was a month away from broadcasting a sunny Féile. When Liam Gallagher made a pre-charts battle jibe about Blur, his onstage aside wasn't clipped up a million times. It was in a frenzied surge early in the Oasis set that I temporarily parted company with one of my crappy plimsoll-type shoes – never wear anything that resembles a plimsoll to Slane. We now have better trainers, better crowd control and immeasurably better portable toilets, but everything is mediated and everyone is being surveilled. Suddenly 1995 being equidistant from 2025 and 1965 doesn't jar. It sounds right. When I searched the Irish Times archive, I found a Slane preview piece headlined 'Rarin' to Rock 'n' Roll' , plus a landline-touting advertisement for VIP tickets costing £50. Confirmation received. This all happened in the strange currency of another century. Luckily, I don't need video to remember the collective emotional swoon as Michael Stipe sang REM's new single, Tongue, his falsetto floating out across the Gen X crowd as we spent lighter fuel and a mirrorball glimmered above.
Irish Examiner
25-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Irish Examiner
Lighten Up: Liz Hurley falls for the cowboy and that's great news for farmers
I have great news today. I can hardly contain myself. Liz Hurley, the raving beauty of stage and screen, has fallen for a cowboy ... a famous American cowboy, by all accounts, but that's irrelevant. The fact remains: Her head was turned by a country boy, and not some city yahoo with a fancy mobile telephone and slicked back hair. A source close to Liz said: "She likes the whole cowboy thing." Isn't that wonderful? Liz clearly has her head well screwed on. How well it was a cowboy she fell for and not a sheep, goat, bull, or silage boy? Liz knows which side her bread is buttered on. She fell for a cowboy because, unlike you and me, he can give a movie star queen the life she richly deserves That monthly milk cheque from the co-op, the price he is now getting for dropped calves, and the serious money being offered for cull cows are all reasons I suspect for the blossoming romance. Liz took one look at the milk and mart cheques and said: "Oh boy!" She was smitten. She was putty in his farming hands from that moment on ... she didn't even need to see his single farm payment. Upper hand The cowboy, you see, has had the upper hand on us all for many years. The abolition of the milk quota back in 2015 was only the beginning of the milk boy's golden age. Like a lively greyhound at Curraheen Park on Saturday night, the lifting of quotas was like the quick opening of the traps at the start of a race. From that moment on, he was gone. Gone down the track like Born Slippy. Blazing a trail like nobody else in the world. There was no stopping him. It's no wonder Liz fell for a cowboy; the only surprise is that more movie starlets aren't following suit. I myself milked cows for many years, but alas, I gave up before Liz called. If only I had known, I would have held onto the milk cluster and Cheno Unction a little longer My milking stall wasn't great, and my back was broken from stooping down, but I wonder if Liz really cares? The cows are clearly the lure. The premises and the State of my back, merely a means to an end. Even with my bent back, I could have been a contender. But no, I sold my 20 cows in haste and lost the fair hand of Liz Hurley to another man. Sometimes, you'd have to wonder if there are any depths to the level of my stupidity. Anyhow, I will just have to move on and put such mistakes in life behind me. For regrets in life, they are like last year's silage bales — they are better off left where they are. "So, how many cows does Liz's new boyfriend actually milk?" You might cry. The simple answer here is: I don't know. All I do know is that his name is Billy Ray Cyrus and he is a cowboy. "And is he any relation to the Healy-Rae's of Kilgarvan?" you might then ask, for you can be mighty inquisitive on occasions. I don't know the answer to that either, for I am not privy to the Hollywood gossip interest lies solely in farming and all affairs attached to it. But if I had to guess, I would presume there is some connection. for the Healy-Rae's are a mighty family, with relations in every parish from here to Gneeveguilla. All I do know right now is that Liz has fallen for a cowboy named Billy Ray Cyrus, and this surely gives a fellow who is committed to the life of the cow a reason to be cheerful today.
