‘If I get a slap across the face, it’s time to back off. That’s the feminist in me talking’
Ross O'Carroll-Kelly: My daughter is doing a Closet Purge for her vlog. It involves petrol
Honor is a total natural in front of the camera.
Seriously, she’s like, “Hi, goys. I just wanted to say thanks for all your lovely comments on my last video, which was a MyTheresa haul! I’ll leave the link below! Today, I’ve decided to mix it up a bit and I’m going to be doing a Closet Purge! Dad, hold the camera steady!”
“Sorry,” I go, “I’m a bit hungover from last night. As a matter of fact, I might still be a bit pissed.”
“Also, thank you all for your lovely comments about my dad, who I’m excited to say is going to be appearing in all my future vlogs! Dad, turn the camera around and point it at yourself!”
Which is what I end up doing. I give her 400,000 followers a little wave.
She goes, “My dad is – oh my God – such a cool, cool person! He buys me everything I want!”
I’m there, “A lot of that is down to fear, Honor.”
“And he never tells me off, even when I’m really, really horrible to people!”
“I’m just thankful when you’re not being horrible to me.”
“Okay, focus back on me now?”
I turn the camera around.
She’s there, “So, as I said, today, I’m going to be doing a Closet Purge and it’s going to be a Closet Purge with a difference, in that the closet I’m going to be purging belongs to my mom!”
I’m like, “Excuse me?”
“Come on, Dad, follow me! And while we head there, my dad is going to give you his Thought for the Day!”
“You know the way you’re a bit of a philosopher?”
“Yeah, no, I can be a deep thinker, yeah.”
“What was that thing you were saying to me last night about Horvey Weinstein?”
“I was just warning you that there are a lot of creepy men out there in the world. I mean, if I like a woman, I walk up to her and I give her one of my famous chat-up lines: ‘I hope you’re not allergic to awesome!’ or something like that. If I get a laugh, then I’ve bought myself a few more minutes of her company. If I get a slap across the face, then it’s time to back off. That’s the feminist in me talking.”
A ma-hoo-sive favour
Honor goes, “There’ll be a lot more of that kind of wisdom from my dad in future vlogs! Now, here we are in my mom’s closet! Sadly, the woman has never known how to dress! As a matter of fact, it’s a genuine shock that I have any fashion sense at all! So today, I’m going to be doing her a ma-hoo-sive favour by getting rid of a lot of her clothes.”
I’m like, “Er, Honor, I’m not 100 per cent sure this is a good idea.”
“Okay, first in the firing line: jumpsuits! Let’s get real here, the woman has way too much junk in her trunk to get away with wearing these things anymore! She puts on a jumpsuit and she looks like she’s doing community service!”
She takes nine or 10 of them out of the wardrobe and throws them on to the floor at my feet.
She’s like, “Next to go are her Juicy Couture tracksuits! My mom is sort of stuck in a style rut at the moment because she doesn’t want to face up to her age! Which is 37! So these are her fashion fallback, even though velour is, like, so 10 years ago? So they’re going in the pile – along with all of her Uggs!”
I’m like, “You can’t get rid of her Uggs, Honor. She’s been wearing Uggs for nearly as long as I’ve known her.”
“Yeah, that’s kind of my point? She’s not 21 anymore and it’s time she stopped pretending that she is! The only fleece-lined boots she should be wearing are those ones for OAPs with the zips up the front! End of conversation!”
She dumps nine pairs of Uggs on to the floor with a dull thud.
“Next,” she goes, “skinny jeans! My mom doesn’t want to accept it but her legs are way too fat for skinny jeans!”
In fairness, she has calves like Manu Tuilagi.
“And I am sick and tired of her embarrassing me at the school gates by trying to look on-trend? So they’re going in the pile as well!”
I’m like, “Obviously, we’ll run all of these items past your old dear before we actually get rid of them?”
She goes, “No, we won’t! And I would say that to any of my followers who decide to purge their mother’s closets! Don’t give her the opportunity to put things back! Cruel to be kind – bear that in mind!”
Honor storts gathering up all the clothes from the floor. “Now,” she goes, “follow me.”
So I follow her. Downstairs we go, then through the hallway, through the kitchen and out into the back gorden, me still filming her and also picking up various bits and pieces that she drops along the way.
I presume at first that she’s just going to put this stuff in the black bin. What I decide to do – once the camera is switched off and Honor is back in her room watching TV – is take all of the clothes out and put them back in Sorcha’s wardrobe.
Cast iron fire pit
But Honor doesn’t head for the bin. Instead, she takes the lid off the cast iron fire pit and drops the clothes into it.
I’m there, “Er, Honor, I genuinely think-.”
“Dad,” she goes, “remember, we’re doing this for her own good! Okay, go and get me the petrol can for the lawnmower!”
“I’m just wondering should we possibly save the Uggs?”
“I’ll get it myself.”
And she does. She unscrews the cap on the can and douses the clothes in petrol.
“Keep filming!” she goes
Then she produces a box of matches from her pocket, lights one and drops it on to Sorcha’s clothes. The whole thing just goes, “Whooomph!” and I end up having to jump backwards to avoid getting my eyebrows singed?
“Believe me,” Honor goes, “she’ll thank us for this in the long run.”
And then I hear Sorcha’s voice behind me. She’s obviously back from yogalates. “Oh my God,” she goes, “what’s burning?”