Steerpike is The Spectator's gossip columnist, serving up the latest tittle tattle from Westminster and beyond. Email tips to steerpike@spectator.co.uk or message @MrSteerpike
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Stanley Johnson, replete with energy and charming as ever, is touring the country looking for a safe Tory berth to ease himself into at the next election.No takers so far, I’m told, but the wily old bird has devised a brilliant ruse to boost his chances. He’s been dropping hints that his occupancy would last only until May
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I do like a Shard story. My recent revelations about the prevalence of hanky panky at the top of the tower graced every national paper. Now I hear that the tower has become a giant pawn in a bitter property battle. The word is that one of the many members of the Qatari royal family,
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The Hurlingham Club hosted the Tories’ annual fundraising Black and White Ball last night. Behind closed doors, the Prime Minister gave a speech to Tories with deep-pockets. There was none of the usual soft commentary the public get thanks to the joys of coalition; Dave was in partisan mode. It will be the end of the
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Welcome Rt Rev Justin Welby, who became the 105th Archbishop of Canterbury this morning at St Pauls. The Church of England’s first tweeting ABC has been a bit quiet online of late, but that hasn’t stopped us nosy parkers getting a glimpse into life behind the scenes of this most holy transition. If Welby’s twenty-something
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The new Intercontinental Hotel in Westminster seems determined to become the chosen haunt for the political great and good. The swanky hotel has opened its doors — and more importantly its late hours bar — to the Village. Cabinet Ministers and media luvvies have been spotted conspiring long into the night. I also hear that
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There has been much hilarity in the wake of the abdication of Queen Beatrix. The obvious comparisons between Willem-Alexander of Orange and our own Prince Charles have been laboured elsewhere; but I was reminded this morning of the Queen’s response to the another Dutch abdication in 1980. The story goes that Her Majesty’s Press Secretary
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Journalist Iain Overton is back, in a way. The former head of the Bureau of Investigative Journalism is due to cash in at journalism luvvies’ favourite haunt, the Frontline Club. Overton, who resigned following the Lord McAlpine affair at the end of last year, will be sharing his tips of the trade for a bargain sum
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Amid much Twitter self-congratulation, the New Statesman has declared this ‘Orwell week‘. Oddly, however, it has yet to mention some of the most notable aspects of its relationship with the great man. In his long, long introductory piece Philip Maughan allows that Orwell went through a certain amount of ‘disagreement’ with the magazine’s editor, Kingsley
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Since revealing that the Shard’s ‘loos with a view’ give punters more than they bargained for, I’ve been inundated with even saucier tales emanating from western Europe’s tallest building. I hear that a new exclusive club has been formed at the top of the 1,016ft glass spire: the almost mile high club. Staff became aware that the
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Steerpike is back in this week’s magazine. As ever, here is your preview: ‘While losses mount at the Guardian, the editor, Alan Rusbridger, has fallen in love. He keeps ordering the sub-editors to find space for articles about his new Fazioli piano. Cheeky responses have appeared on the website. ‘We always wondered how you filled
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More turmoil at No. 10, I hear. ‘Cameron’s power network is disintegrating,’ gloated an insider as news broke that two aides close to the cabinet secretary, Jeremy Heywood, are to leave. The pair worked together at the highest level. Paul Kirby (head of policy) would devise new administrative schemes and Kris Murrin (head of implementation)
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Terrible news reaches me from the top of the Shard. The viewing platforms at the top of the 1,016ft glass wonder, which is the tallest building in western Europe, are set to open to the public in the coming weeks; but preview guests and party goers have reported a rather shaming interior design flaw. My mole says that complaints
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Michael Winner’s family have announced that he’s paid his last bill and checked out. The 77-year-old director of Death Wish and world renowned food critic died at home in West London earlier today. In what became his last Winner’s Dinners column, Winner recently gave his loyal readership a glimpse at his final days, recounting his trip to Switzerland where he stayed at
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Another week, another former Tory cabinet minister working a room. Last week I brought you news of Liam Fox entertaining the great and good of the Tory party. Now I hear that Andrew Mitchell has been making an extra special effort to be nice to absolutely everyone. The former chief whip was being very friendly
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Tragedy has struck Vogue House this morning as the sad news emerges that Tatler’s famous in house dachshund, Alan TBH Plumptre, is dead. Details are sketchy at the moment and Condé Nast are refusing to comment beyond saying that there was an ‘accident’, but Mr Steerpike can reveal London’s most glamorous puppy was killed by the
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The ladies of the London chatterati are at each other’s throats. Left-wing identity politics has been eating itself since the New Year, when the leading feminists of Fleet Street went into battle over who is the better feminist. The great titan-esses are actually secret subversives determined to surrender their cause to subconscious patriarchy. Well, that’s
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An impressive turnout in the Churchill Room of the Carlton Club last night for Liam Fox’s New Year drinks. My eyes in the room reports that a smiling Liam claimed he had ‘invited 180 people’ and 162 had turned up. Interestingly, the big beasts came out for the former Defence Secretary, who is said to
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Steerpike is back in this week’s Spectator, and here’s a little taster from Wapping: James Harding, the ousted Times editor, left with a £1.3 million payoff in his pocket and the praise of Fleet Street ringing in his ears. But why did he go? A chap who polishes the executives’ shoes at News International tells
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Has Nick Clegg seen a ghost? The pallor of the Lib Dem leader continues to excite comment in Westminster. At Monday’s half-time presentation by the coalition, he was looking as anaemic as a jellyfish. ‘Either he’s lost four pints of blood or he’s been given his latest polling figures,’ said one hack. A friendly spin
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Not long ago Westminster wags nicknamed Sir Jeremy Heywood, Downing Street’s top Sir Humphrey — ‘Wormtongue’ after Tolkien’s poisonous power behind the throne in the Lord of the Rings. Since being tasked with investigating the Andrew Mitchell affair (and managing to miss the glaring differences between the CCTV footage and the police notes long before
