Until recent times, I had begun to wonder whether it was against the law to commission a television show that didn’t feature Gregg Wallace. The same law applies to comedy shows which cannot proceed unless Josh Widdecombe, Rob Beckett and Romesh Ranganathan are included. Without ever having seen an entire show presented by Wallace, I know who he is and am familiar with his cockney barrow-boy shtick. This week, we have seen another side to the former greengrocer turned TV presenter, if any of the allegations made against him turn out to be true. (As it is extremely likely Wallace is a regular reader of this blog, it is important to point out he denies everything.)
Now, I am not one to avoid making the odd risqué joke or using a double entendre (or two) but, I would hope, I have not said something like, “I am not wearing pants under my jeans”, described to anyone what a great lover I am or shared topless pictures of myself. And why would I not have? Because it’s horrible and could easily be construed as being threatening. I am not a top TV presenter, either, and wield no power. Money and fame can represent power and influence.
I have known numerous people over the years who have acted in ways that not everyone might regard as appropriate, but my experience is that there is not always a straightforward line that should not be crossed. Some men – it’s always men – have come across as crude and crass, yet obviously not in a threatening or embarrassing way. Others you just knew meant everything they said and it was beyond embarrassing. And because everything is so nuanced, it’s not always easy to distinguish between being harmless and harmful. The safe way is just to avoid going down that road in the first place.
In my life, I have generally managed to avoid spending time with people who are rude and crude for the very obvious reason that, I hope, I don’t come under either category. If I use an innuendo, it’s only because I wonder whether if it’s another name for an Italian suppository. I certainly won’t be advising women I meet that I am not wearing pants beneath my jeans, not least because I always will be. Doing otherwise would be just weird and pervy.
Guilty or not, Gregg Wallace MBE for services to food (FFS) and charity (Ambitious for Autism, who have just axed him), has hit back against the allegations. “I can see the complaints coming from a handful of middle-class women of a certain age, just from Celebrity MasterChef. This isn’t right.” So, none of classless women of no specific age? WTAF is he on about? And who does he think watches his cookery programmes? A fair chance, I would think, it’s “middle class women of a certain age.” I am not sure this was his wisest move. At the heart of this tawdry episode lies power and its abuses, specifically by men.
Assuming Wallace is an innocent man, just look at what happened after Jimmy Savile died and what’s happening now that the phoney pharoah Mohamed Al-Fayed is dead and buried. Women were far too scared to speak out when they were alive due to the power these evil men enjoyed. Upset Al-Fayed and you may never work again. Upset Savile and you upset the friend of Prince Charles, Margaret Thatcher and much of the all-powerful establishment, including various police chiefs.
From what little I saw of Gregg Wallace, I thought he was a bit of a creep, a faux cockney gobshite and anyway, competitive cooking shows, except Ready Steady Cook in pre Rylan Clark days, was never quite my bag. I just hope the truth will out, regardless of whether the only complainants have been “middle class women of a certain age.” These are very serious allegations and it would be nice if everyone took them seriously. It appears that the bloke at the heart of these allegations doesn’t.
