Celebrity squares | 28 July 2007

Autograph-hunters are easily maligned. When not frequenting sci-fi conventions, they are to be found lurking like discomfited pigeons at film premières or the opening nights of West End theatre productions, clutching pocketbooks bearing signatures of the famous.

Autograph-hunters are easily maligned. When not frequenting sci-fi conventions, they are to be found lurking like discomfited pigeons at film premières or the opening nights of West End theatre productions, clutching pocketbooks bearing signatures of the famous. Their glasses are bottle-bottomed relics of the NHS. They reek of sweat and charity shops. Their anoraks are zipped up tight, come rain or sun. A nervous chortle plays on their lips and their eyeballs glisten with furtive anticipation.

It’s obvious that most celebrities don’t care that much for their goofy disciples. They react as though besieged by lepers — minimising physical contact, yet usually signing for the sake of form or karma. And always they avoid the collector’s gaze.