January 2023 will surely go down as the month when dishing the dirt gets an extreme makeover. We’re barely into the year and already we know intimate details about Prince Harry’s private life and those of his close family members.
Meanwhile Gwyneth Paltrow has decided the mood is right to share stories of drug taking and hooking up in the 1990s. Whichever way you look at it, the rule book of spilling has been set on fire. If it’s OK for Harry to describe the moment he lost his virginity /took hallucinogens/got dog-bowled by William, then we urgently need to know what is Not OK to dish up for general consumption in this new post Spare world.
Here’s my basic Not-OK-To-Dish rulebook…
Keep it clean
No sexual dishing of any sort. This is still a hard and fast rule and we’re surprised that Harry went there, tbh. There’s almost nothing you can say about a sexual partner that will not ultimately reflect badly on both of you. Very sexy girl (eew). Amazing in bed (yuk). And it goes without saying that anything remotely negative or derogatory is up there with the worst possible betrayals. Do not let anyone tell you bad sex stuff about anyone else; no-one could ever have sex again if this behaviour were permissible.
Not the face
On no account is it OK to talk about your friend or family members’ cosmetic interventions. Often the one having full-body Botox has a husband who doesn’t even know she dyes her hair. Similarly bad form to out people’s age when they’re being deliberately evasive.
No divorce talk
A crystal clear recall of who said what during the divorce qualifies as “over dishing”.
Ignore transformations
Very bad form to draw attention to how much certain people have changed (unless you’re talking about Prince Harry, in which case you will get high-fived). You don’t want to be saying, “OMG, you look great!”, “You were twice the size 10 years ago!”, “OMG, you were so mousey and now you’re fun!”, “Wow, you’re a CEO? And you only got Art O level!”
Style matters
Anything to do with taste outsourcing counts as a major betrayal. She lets you think she did up the house herself but really it was Figgy Wiggy’s team, and they did the garden too. This is stuff only your BF knows (the homemade jam in the Kilner jar, it’s really Bonne Maman) and that’s how it should be.
Finances are out
Anything to do with money shaming. The puppy you got in lockdown. The amount you forked out for a hair-thinning specialist. Other people may be shocked by the amounts, and that’s the point of dishing, presumably, but it’s none of their business.
Booze is off the menu
Embarrassing alcoholic exploits. Don’t share anything other than your own is the rule. Harry did not like being reminded of his naked pool playing and we’re exactly the same. Don’t take pictures of us limbo dancing either, or dancing at all come to think of it.
Take the hit
Bad decisions you came to regret. These are not available for dishing in the form of blame-spreading in later years. (Oddly of all the “Harry Dishings” the one that feels the most underhand is dragging Kate and Wills into his choice of Nazi uniform fancy dress. Take the hit Harry, don’t retrospectively take them down with you, whatever the truth may be).
Avoid TMI
No physical shaming. Excessive sweating. Smelly feet. Bad breath. We all remember Andrew’s “can’t sweat” story because it was a) Absurd and b) Too Much Information. No-one outside your immediate family needs to know about your bodily functions, ever.
Old flames are out
Previous relationships. Meghan has a first husband no one ever mentions. Literally airbrushed from history. And fair enough. Maybe Harry thought Chelsy Davy wouldn’t mind being bigged up as the one who didn’t have “throne syndrome”. Bet she did. Bet she’d far rather trust that he never breathed a word about them.
The dos and don'ts of dishing your family dirt
In the wake of Prince Harry's revelations, we urgently need to recap that which is not fit for public consumption