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Spectator
25-06-2025
- Business
- Spectator
Millennials don't want brown furniture
For me, it was the sideboard that did it. Originally the centrepiece of my grandmother's dining room, upon her death it was passed on to my mother, who kept it grudgingly in her cottage even though you couldn't get to the kitchen without banging your hip against its bow front. At some stage it was passed on to my sister, who paid a considerable sum to store it because she had no room for it in her terraced house. Some years later, I was informed that I must house this precious mahogany albatross myself. After some handwringing and sadness, lack of space forced me to pass it on to someone in my village. She took one look and promptly vowed to 'do an upcycle'. Such is the sorry fate of brown furniture. It is unwanted by millennials, who will likely inherit it anyway when their boomer parents inevitably downsize, to allow their offspring to scramble on to a much lower rung on the property ladder. Brown furniture strikes me as a peculiarly apt metaphor for the cumbersome, unwieldy process of the Great Wealth Transfer more broadly. It may sound like a heist, but the Great Wealth Transfer is the anticipated handing down of approximately £5.5 trillion from the boomers to millennials, what journalists and financial analysts like to call (with no apparent irony) the 'largest flow of generational capital ever seen in the history of humanity'. Maybe we should simply call it The Generation Game and get Bruce Forsyth back from the grave to officiate. Because like all game shows, there will be winners and losers. Just don't expect a conveyer belt and a teddy bear. But first, a word for the boomers. Britain's baby boomers – the 13.5 million people, aged between about 60 and 80, who were born between 1946 and 1964 – grew up in a world of staggering growth. As they worked, they were able to pay into pensions and buy shares. Overwhelmingly, they bought houses, and these houses have become a lot more valuable: a flat bought in Notting 'Grotting' Hill in the 1970s for £6,000 is now worth well over £1 million. Half have more than £500,000 in assets and roughly a quarter have more than £1 million. This has helped make the boomers comfortably the richest generation there has ever been – and quite possibly the most reviled. As a geriatric millennial born in 1983, waiting for the wealth to trickle down into my hands, I can't wait. Except I don't seem to be in line for any wealth as such, but a whole auctioneer's catalogue of brown furniture given to me as property has changed hands from my grandmother's so-called silent generation to my boomer mother, who now doesn't want it (and has even been known to Farrow & Ball it). If I do inherit any property, it probably won't be until I am well into my sixties, when my children have completed their (hopefully) private education. As I really don't want my mother to croak it any time soon, I am at peace with this situation. Through no meritocratic slaving of my own, I have managed to get on to the property ladder via my husband. The Bank of Mum and Dad regrettably never opened its ATM for me, as it did for so many of my peers, but hey-ho. What has trickled down to me thus far in the greatest asset swap of all time can be listed as follows: a Davenport desk, a couple of Pembroke tables, a side cabinet, a linen press, two gilt mirrors, a wig stand and a great deal of bone china, designed for the kind of entertaining that hasn't taken place since the 1940s. Brown furniture, then, is my lot. But brown furniture, as auctioneers are at pains to tell me, is worth nothing – it is the abject symbol of generational misalignment that will come to characterise the slow death march of the boomers and expose the Great Wealth Transfer once and for all. Blame Tony Blair – 'forward not back'. But why? Shouldn't it be worth something? I spoke to Thomas Jenner-Fust, director of Chorley's in the Cotswolds, to confirm just how shafted I am. Jenner-Fust blames 'generational dissonance' for having driven the value of brown furniture down: 'Boomers came from a world where people still sat around a table to eat food, took afternoon tea (no ghastly mugs), sat at a desk to write letters with an actual pen and displayed their trinkets and treasures in display cabinets.' In contrast, he says, millennials lead different lives in knocked-through kitchens where mahogany furniture looks out of place, and built-in cabinets throughout the house have done away with the need for hulking great bow-fronted chests of drawers. And of course many millennials don't have a home at all to fill with brown furniture, even if they wanted to. Some boomers, I quickly learn, are resigned to the fact that the sale of brown furniture isn't going to 'fund any skiing holidays'; 'luckily for them, over the same period [35 years] their Old Rectories have gone up by millions so they can take a hit on the Pembroke tables'. Others, upon discovering that their corner cupboard is worth only £30, are not so sanguine. 'I have often felt that I am about to be chased out of the house with a rolling pin. I'm seen as a sort of swindler,' confesses Jenner-Fust, letting slip that when an auctioneer acquaintance sells a piece of brown furniture for a pittance, he often remarks 'at that price I hope the legs fall off'. Which of course, unlike their Ikea counterparts, they won't. Brown furniture, like a boomer's incredible life expectancy, is sturdy and built to last. Eliza Filby, historian of generations and author of Inheritocracy,published last year, sees the glut of brown furniture as evidence of the fact that 'boomers are the consumer generation that have bought a lot of shit'. By contrast, millennials and Gen Z are the experience generations, all holidays and Instagrammable 'memory-making'. Brown furniture, Filby says, is a motif not just for different ways of living but, crucially, for different economic standards of living, standards that were far more elevated than we victimised millennials could dare to imagine. 'There's a reason why millennials embraced the pared-down mid-century aesthetic,' she notes. It is born out of economic and social dire straits rather than simply solipsism. Minimalism arose then because there was simply less space: no dining rooms, less wall space for gilt mirrors and linen presses – just less. What, then, is the answer to this generation game of discontent? James Mabey, partner at law firm Winckworth Sherwood, tells me that, as with most things, tech may be the answer. Technology that can predict life expectancy may be 'a very powerful tool in estate planning in choosing how much to give away and when, and how much we are each likely to need to keep back'. The short-term risk, though, is that millennial inheritance gets drunk through a straw by boomers on their so-called 'revenge holidays'. I conclude, in the words of the late, great Bruce Forsyth, that I must 'play my cards right'. Just no more sideboards, please: I flogged the dinner service ages ago.
Daily Mirror
08-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Daily Mirror
Hairy Bikers star Dave Myers to receive touching honour a year on from death
An exhibition, which will include many of Hairy Biker star Dave Myers' personal belongings, will be held at the museum in Dave Myers' home town of Barrow-in-Furness Hairy Bikers star Dave Myers is set to have a museum temporarily named in his honour. The much-loved TV chef, who died of cancer last year aged 66, will be honoured with a free exhibition at The Dock Museum in his hometown of Barrow-in-Furness, Cumbria, next month. It will include a showcase of his belongings, including his motorbike helmet, some of his clothes and the dance shoes he wore while starring on Strictly Come Dancing. Dave's widow Liliana, 58, said: 'I can't think of a better place to have donated some of Dave's most loved possessions to be on show to the public. "There are areas of Dave's life that are unknown beyond his family and friends so it will be interesting to make this public. He had a long career as a makeup artist before becoming a 'Hairy Biker' and we have many photographs from this period. "I've also donated some of his personal clothing – much of it stained by food! You could read a manual of his life from his shirts!'. Dave first appeared on TV alongside pal Si King in 2004's The Hairy Bikers ' Cookbook. They went on to present more than 30 series and specials before Dave revealed his cancer diagnosis in May 2022. But, before finding fame, Dave worked as a makeup artist specialising in prosthetics. He worked for the BBC and also freelance on TV shows, including Top of the Pops, where he painted the iconic white stripe on pop star Adam Ants' face. He was also employed on other programmes, including The Generation Game, Spooks and The life and times of a she devil. He first met Si King on the Gambling man, a Catherine Cookson TV drama. The exhibition will be part of the Dave Day 2 celebrations to be held on June 21 and June 22 in Barrow. The Dock Museum will be renamed 'The Dave Museum' from June 18 until June 23. The exhibition will be open from June 20 until October 5 and will be free to enter. Dock Museum manager, John Irving said: "I've known Dave for years, and his story is fascinating. I'm both honoured and excited to have collected all these much loved items from Lili and cannot wait to share his story with the wider public. "Everyone knew Dave as a Hairy Biker, but there is so much to tell from his life, especially around Barrow." Charlotte Hawley, Collections and Exhibitions manager for Westmorland and Furness Council, said: "It is both an honour and a pleasure to collaborate with Lili Myers in bringing this exhibition, celebrating the life of Dave Myers, to the Dock Museum and his hometown of Barrow. "I am thrilled to share not only previously unseen objects related to Dave's personal journey but also some truly iconic items from his time on television." Prior to the exhibition opening, curators will be taking a digital photo-booth around the local area for members of the public to record a message for Lilli or leave a memory of Dave using green screen technology.
Daily Mail
04-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Daily Mail
Comedian Jim Davidson claims the 'BBC want to erase me like Pol Pot' as he rails against wokeness in comedy on new podcast
Jim Davidson has claimed the ' BBC want to erase me like Pol Pot' after the broadcaster refused to sell him the rights to shows he'd previously hosted. The controversial comedian was speaking on The Criminal Connection Podcast, which is hosted by true crime actor-producer Terry Stone. The 71-year-old comic also railed against 'wokeness' in the entertainment industry, insisting: 'People are fed up of not being able to do, or watch, or say what they want to.' Speaking about 60's and 70's children's TV staples like The Magic Roundabout, Davidson told the podcast host that he would 'love' to be able to license them, as well as shows he had hosted for the BBC, for his streaming channel. He added: 'I get a lot of resistance when we're buying stuff for UStreme TV. The BBC won't sell me The Generation Game or Big Break or anything I've been on. 'They want to totally erase me. It's like Pol Pot in Cambodia.' The podcast host then added: 'They're rubbing you out Jim.' To which Davidson agreed, saying: 'They're rubbing me out.' Elsewhere in the podcast the septuagenarian stand-up blasted woke culture and claimed that it originated from California. Davidson stood in for previous host Bruce Forsyth on The Generation Game, before taking the gig full time from 1995 to 2002 - earning him the nickname 'Mr Saturday Night' - but says the BBC refuse to sell him the rights to air the show on his streaming channel Davidson said: 'If it makes you laugh, you laugh don't you? People are fed up of not being able to do, or watch, or say what they want to. 'It's all come from political correctness, started in America didn't it. In California, we can't say this or we mustn't say that, oh my god.' The former Up the Elephant and Round the Castle star also mocked young people for identifying He said: 'You can identify as a fox, if you're a young girl, you can identify... 'They're thick as s***, young girls, and young people. Young people are so woked up, they're as thick as f****** shit. You're not a fox, go and dress as a human being. 'I like to identify as Brad Pitt. I identify as a young, self-made billionaire. I don't get it. You're a man or a woman or you're mentally f****** ill. 'I can understand a man wanting to be a woman. That's it, you're a man or a woman. That's it, this woke, this two people, it's mental illness. 'And it's OK to be mentally ill now because everyone's got letters after their names haven't they? 'It's like a badge: "My son he's got ADHD, he's got GBH, he's got CEFC," f*** sake he's just a horrible little s***. I'm DGAF, don't give a f***. 'Me on stage, trying to just ridicule everything. I'm working to my audience. So I look at them and think "right, I'm going to lead this lot."' Davidson was a king of Saturday night television in the nineties, earning a reported £1.5million a year. He stood in for previous host Bruce Forsyth when he was ill in 1994, before taking the gig full time from 1995 to 2002. Davidson's reign was characterised by a more lively and chaotic style, introducing characters like Mr. Blobby and comedy sketches. The 71-year-old also helmed the snooker-themed hit show Big Break from 1991 to 2002, before being dropped by the BBC. In September 2007 Davidson was a contestant in the reality TV programme Hell's Kitchen in which he was accused of homophobic bullying towards TV presenter and openly gay contestant Brian Dowling. Davidson asked Dowling, 'Are you on our side?' Speaking about the incident on The Criminal Connection Podcast, Davidson showed little contrition. He said: 'The next day I thought "f*** this, I'm going home." I phoned the producer who used to be a runner for me ... I said I'm leaving. 'He said "We want to speak to you anyway because what you said to Brian, the conversation you had, would upset viewers, there would be complaints." 'I said "well, edit that be out." If you think it's going to upset the public, surely you have a right to edit that bit out. I said f*** it, I'm off. 'They didn't edit that bit out - they edited it to make it look worse. They threw me under the bus. I didn't actually call him a 'shirt lift'. Come on where does it end. 'I had 18 months on bail and I went straight in and won Big Brother. I don't think there's any room for me in anything like that [I'm A Celeb]. I've got my own TV station now so what do I care.' Davidson called his 2023 tour 'Not Yet Cancelled' but last year Channel 5 made a documentary looking at his career called The Cancellation of Jim Davidson. The podcast also saw Davidson addressing some of the unhappier moments in his career, including his time on the sitcom Up the Elephant and Round the Castle. He said: 'I did a show called Up the Elephant and Round the Castle; they wanted me to leave the comedy and go into a sitcom. 'I had to drink between the bit when you come off stage and go to bed so you can get up in the morning without feeling s***. It just catches up with you. I was sick and tired of feeling sick and tired.'
Express Tribune
21-04-2025
- Entertainment
- Express Tribune
Jim Davidson reflects on addiction struggles and embarrassing encounter with Miss World
Comedian Jim Davidson has shared further details about the extent of his past drug addiction in a candid interview with The Telegraph. Known for his roles as the host of Big Break and The Generation Game, as well as his win on Celebrity Big Brother in 2014, Davidson has been open about his struggles with drugs, revealing how his addiction once controlled his life. In the interview, Davidson spoke about his addiction to cocaine, describing it as an obsession that gave him a sense of invincibility. "Drugs made me feel like Superman," he explained, noting how the euphoria would fade quickly, leading him to crave more. He recounted one particularly alarming incident at a showbiz party where he was sitting at a table with a nosebleed, feeling on the brink of collapse and yet expressed confusion over why Miss World, a guest at the event, avoided speaking to him. Davidson also reflected on his reckless behavior, which included sourcing drugs for friends. 'I used to take tonnes of drugs and run errands to pick up pills and other substances for my mates,' he said. He further revealed that his addiction caused a significant strain on his family life, explaining how he prioritized drugs over everything else, including loved ones. 'I didn't know how to put the brakes on,' he admitted during an appearance on Life Stories with Piers Morgan. The comedian acknowledged the devastating toll of his addiction, recalling times when he took as many as 250 pills over a weekend. Ultimately, he realized the destructive path he was on, which led him to quit drugs. Davidson's openness about his past highlights the dangerous allure of addiction and the importance of seeking help to overcome it.
Daily Mirror
21-04-2025
- Entertainment
- Daily Mirror
Jim Davidson's horror nose-bleed from cocaine use while talking to Miss World
Comedian Jim Davidson has been open about his drug addiction and in a new interview, he revealed the depths of his drug addiction Jim Davidson has made a new admission about the depths of his drug addiction. The comedian has been open about his past with drugs and in a new interview, he explained more about the depths of his addiction. The comedian will be best known for his work presenting the likes of Big Break and The Generation Game, whilst he also appeared on Celebrity Big Brother in 2014, which he went on to win. Speaking to The Telegraph in a new interview, he said: "That didn't really agree with me. Colombia could not produce enough. Come on, lads, work on weekends, Jim needs his nose full." Jim said the drugs made him "feel like Superman" and said they were "all that mattered" in his life. "At one showbiz party I was sat at a table with my nose bleeding, looking like I was about to keel over and die, and I remember wondering why Miss World, who was a guest at the do, didn't want to talk to me," he said. "I couldn't take enough. Drugs made me feel like Superman. Life was just one long, long party. I'd end up staying up for days on end, hanging out with people I didn't even know. All that mattered was the drugs. When I sniffed a line it gave me a huge buzz and a rush of euphoria. But as soon as that started wearing off I wanted more." Jim had also admitted in the past that he would even help to supply drugs for his friends. He said: "I used to take tonnes of drugs. My mates used to send me down to Erith to pick up all the pills and things and come back to Woolwich. I didn't go far, it's not like I went to Peru or somewhere, but I was the bloke from the pub that used to go and get them all." During an appearance on Life Stories with then-host Piers Morgan, Jim admitted he didn't know how to "put the brakes on" with his addiction and pushed his family aside as a result of his addiction. "It became a bit of a mess really. I had to put the brakes on…I did not know how to. I used to go to the pub at lunchtime as I was bored. I was earning £250,000 a week and I was able to push some things aside – and that included family," he said. "Sometimes I took 250 pills in a weekend, amphetamines, when I was young. It was awful. That is why I stopped doing it. It made me feel awful and then I moved on to to all that Charlie." *Frank offers confidential advice about drugs and addiction (email frank@ message 82111 or call 0300 123 6600) or the NHS has information about getting help.
