Dear Will Young

Dear Will,

Last time I was in your presence we were at a private performance of yours in Temple Gardens, London.  You were cool, friendly and aspirational.  The way you spoke, sung and dressed was utter perfection.  You were every girls dream best friend.  There was even a moment where you requested to have your face painted and I was the chosen one. It never came about but I didn't hold it against you.  Instead I sung your praises about how brave and fun you were to even suggest it.  The fact that you were dating Matthew Williamson just made me love you even more.  I suppose this is beginning to read much like a "Dear John" letter, I think we both know where this is going.  You've changed.  There I've said it.  The Will that stood before me Thursday night at Rochester Castle was not the Will I grew to love from the Pop Idol years.  For starters you came on stage wearing this:

I know Military WAS all the rage but must everybody jump on it's band wagon and continue it, when really it should never have been brought to our attention to this extreme in the first place.  I'm sure a little Military edge could be kind of cool and I'm sure I've sported a little in my time but this full on Cheryl Cole outfit is just unnecessary.  We love Chezza but even we know that the "Fight for our Love" gear was a bigger mistake than her forgiving Ashley Cole the first time, don't try and buy into her hype.   I thought maybe I could let this go, see past your initial exterior.  After all you are a show man and this is a show stopper....I mean piece, but then you came out wearing this:

Red braces, black bowler hat.  I suppose we could at least argue that you were colour coordinating.  However, one or the other would have sufficed.  Together just made you look like you were performing in a cheap am dram performance of some horrifically bad Musical.  I don't want to hurt you but I can't lie to you anymore either. 

The last was the worst though.  Fair enough I get it, black outfit with a UV like outline, so you could do some funky dance and just the outline of you be seen by the audience but the top hat was overkill.   For a while I pictured the material to be black felt sewn together by a local Brownie group and the more you danced the more the arms became unseemed, slowly slipping off onto the floor.  I even imagined badly fitting felt trousers that when you sat revealed your long white socks in a Grandpa way rather than a really funky MJ way. 

Maybe I didn't get it, I mean I did spend an awful long time during that last set queueing for the toilets.  I don't know.  I feel harsh.  I wanted to like the outfits so much.  I'm glad they weren't boring but did they have to be so.....cheesy.

I'm sorry it had to end this way but I want you to know I will always think of you fondly.  This isn't goodbye, it's just so long for now.

x

ps- Did Matthew teach you nothing?