The celebrity culture we’ve cultivated (try saying that ten times fast) has produced some strange behaviour patterns. There is one gossipy gold mine in particular that runs with the precision of a German train network and can be relied upon for tabloid gossip on a week to week basis. I am of course referring to - the celebrity meltdown. Specifically, the social media variety.

For your average Joe online, it’s quite easy to have your own meltdown and not get too much stick for it. Tweet those lyrics as a thinly concealed reference to your ex who’s just been seen in the pub with that horrible girl you did A-level chemistry with. Go on a poorly punctuated rant at an online goods distributor because they left your parcel behind your wheelie bin - which was CLEARLY not your designated safe space - and now your new cushion covers smell like damp. With the luxury of not having our every move scrutinised, we can go on getting pissed off and telling people we’re pissed off, without it being lauded about as a crisis or breaking point or evidence of our fragile state.

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