Vi segnalo il divertente articolo RIP Page 3, di Yashica Dutt, pubblicato oggi da Brunch. Il fenomeno della mondanità e delle celebrità che arricchivano la terza pagina dei quotidiani nacque in India verso la fine degli anni novanta, a seguito della liberalizzazione economica, della cessazione dell'austerità per una fascia della popolazione, del desiderio di godere (e di mostrare) la propria ricchezza. Ma una decina d'anni dopo la scena cambiò radicalmente: le star del cinema e gli stilosi animatori di quella mondanità preferirono prendere le distanze dalla terza pagina, ormai ceduta a pagamento dai quotidiani. Chiunque possedesse un gruzzolo ingente e l'ambizione di apparire sulla terza pagina, poteva acquistarne uno spazio. Inoltre l'avvento di internet e la distribuzione di un nugolo di periodici dedicati alla cronaca mondana (Hello!, Ok!, People, Hi! Blitz) moltiplicarono l'offerta, contribuendo ad appannare lo smalto di esclusività della terza pagina dei quotidiani. Anche l'atteggiamento nei confronti della stampa è mutato: le feste con celebrità di primo piano continuano ad essere organizzate, pare in numero minore, ma i giornalisti non vengono invitati, a meno che non vi sia l'esigenza di pubblicizzare qualcosa. L'articolo insegna anche come scrivere un pezzo di cronaca mondana, come organizzare un evento, e come diventare un personaggio da terza pagina. Bene. Ognuno vuole essere famoso, e se Facebook non basta ad autopromuoversi, ecco la democratizzazione della terza pagina. Felici?
'Back in the late 2000s, when I started out as a reporter, I loved the idea of Page 3. I thought I’d get to meet rich, stylish people, talk about their intensely exciting lifestyles and be a fly-on-the-wall as pulsating gossip was created right in front of me. But I was wrong. Page 3 had died at least half a decade before that. I realised this soon after countless encounters with Page 3 people: All of them wanted to land a role in a Bollywood movie. Middle-aged women with faux blonde hair insisted on squashing rolls of saggy shoulder fat into tight animal print dresses. Rich men with zero conversation skills clutched their whiskies and looked for girls. Everyone looked for the photographers. The truth was that Page 3’s golden days had long been over. Those who had once lived and died to party didn’t want to be seen doing that any more. Now everything was Page 3 material: birthday parties, mundan ceremonies, dog funerals. The real Page 3 was gone.
Ghost of Page 3 past
But it wasn’t always so. In fact, when it started in the late ’90s, the third page was the place to be seen. A photograph there meant you had arrived on the social scene. (...) So what if you couldn’t party like them, you could at least see what it looked like. ‘Them’ meant celebrities. (...) Page 3 emerged at the end of the ’90s, when the fruits of liberalisation were just getting ripe. Indians were coming out of their phase of austerity and subtly beginning to enjoy their wealth. That was the sentiment that city supplements captured, much like the film magazines that captured the lives of movie stars. (...) [It was the beginning] of a new social order, where being seen on the circuit was a good thing. Often, this kind of visibility advanced careers. (...)
Ghost of Page 3 present
As the private parties moved to clubs and then disappeared entirely from the media glare (unless there was something - a brand, a restaurant, a clothing line, a movie, a new store - to peddle), so did the party people. They were replaced by a new crop of desperate, do-anything-for-a-photo-op wannabes who had realised what Page 3 was worth. “You open the page and see how many people you recognise. Everyone is a designer these days. Random people are featured, who don’t deserve any attention,” says a society journalist. And if earlier, style was the divine guidance, now that too has been thrown out with the bath water. Runny, over-done makeup, tight-fitting clothes that are 10 years too old, Russian and Uzbek girls who don’t have second names are the cache of Page 3 today. (...) Page 3 has, if you like, become ‘democratised.’ (...) That negates the ‘niche club’ idea that Page 3 was initially based on.
Money talks, loudly
Hard to believe now, but there were days when Page 3 dictated the readership of a newspaper. Till certain publications (...) introduced a policy where you could buy a few columns of space on Page 3 and so let the whole world see your wife’s birthday party, friend’s wedding anniversary, son’s graduation dinner... Just like your own Facebook page, only more expensive. Once money entered the picture, everything turned rancid. Would the real A-listers want to be featured on that kind of page? No, says a socialite who didn’t wish to be named. “If you do accidentally get featured one day, then you become the laughing stock of all your peers. You don’t want to look like your life is so sad that you need to pay people to showcase it.” But there are plenty of people out there who are still keen to become Page 3 celebrities. The best way to do so is to organise a Page 3 party of your own. (...) It doesn’t matter if you don’t know anyone. “You can hire a PR agency, which will get someone who does ‘guest relations’. (...) These people will charge you around `10,000-20,000 per guest to fill your party with regulars,” says a Page 3 photographer on condition of anonymity. (...)
Who killed page 3?
Like any trend that loses its charm once it goes mainstream, Page 3 too became infra dig once the exclusivity went. (...) Once ‘socialite’ became a dirty word and it became necessary for everyone to find a day job that wasn’t partying, Page 3 started gathering negative connotations. And after director Madhur Bhandarkar’s clichéd representation of society in his movie, Page 3, things became worse. (...) With the arrival of many party-centric blogs like Miss Malini and High Heel Confidential, and magazines like Hello!, OK!, People and Hi! Blitz, Page 3 doesn’t have the same equity it did earlier and the fact that you can buy it (in some publications) doesn’t help either. (...) However, any mention of Page 3 parties of the past does come attached with the folklore of the glitzy, amazing booze-headedness of the bashes that made them so awesome and attendance worthy. (...)
Press-ed Out
As Page 3 changed within a decade, so did the attitude of party hosts and partygoers to the press, which has gone from friendliness to suspicion. That’s also because back then, there were only a few magazines, newspapers and TV channels. Today there are literally hundreds, and they are far more aggressive. Once upon a time, no one, be it an A-list designer or an industrialist, (...) would think twice about inviting the press, even for allegedly ‘private occasions’. But today, the really private A-list parties are out of bounds for the press. Only when the concerned people want publicity for a new project or any other specific reason do they invite the press. (...)
So, what now?
While Page 3 looks worse than roadkill, with parties splattered all over, this is as close to death as the page can get. Though some journalists feel that as long as there are celebrations, or as long as there are occasions when people will need publicity for their products or their work (till the end of time, that!), Page 3 will continue. Others believe that the real Page 3 has degenerated. It has now become the home ground for those hungry for their 15 seconds of fame. But once they do get famous, will they too distance themselves from Page 3?'.
