Boy George should be called Bore George. He goes on so. Personally it’s always been a chore dealing with the bore. He stormed off a taping of RuPaul’s Christmas show because he said it was lit for black people. He narrated our history of the music video documentary as if he was late for a bus. Then he wrote a horrid review of Party Monster, the movie, in the Daily Express while – and this is the true outrage – starring in that titanical musical Taboo. Two words describe his entrance on the stage as Leigh Bowery: Flotilla DeBarge. Yes, he got a standing ovation – I know, I was there and on my feet like everyone else so we could all just get the hell out of there. Like the marquee asked, “Would you let you in?’. It was a rhetorical swish that would prove prophetic.
I have come to think of him as a bastard child of Margaret Thatcher. In his maternity kaftans there was something matronly – and momentarily endearing – about his preferring a nice cup of tea to sex. But over the years his pronouncements have become increasingly tart and bossy. True, he never carried a handbag like Margaret Thatcher did, but that doesn’t stop him from swinging it about so. And while, unlike Margaret, he hasn’t yet lapsed into using the royal “We,” he clearly thinks of himself as the Queen of England. And for that role only one word springs to mind: Abdicate.
– Fenton Bailey