She’s certainly not the iconic fat lady of opera stereotype, but Katherine Jenkins is making an impression just the same. Could the young classical singer be performing with plastic surgery?
Many singers shy away from nose surgery for fear of changing the sound of their voice and Katherine appears to be one of them. Not that she needs a nose job, with her adorable button nose.
Although Katherine frequently shows off her breasts in stunning gowns that she wears when she performs, her breasts are probably natural, as they show no signs of the obvious breast implants when she wears a bikini. Her stunning cleavage is likely aided by excellent undergarments, rather than plastic surgery.
Katherine looks good and has very smooth skin, which she may be taking care of using skincare products as well as being at an age when some begin to try Botox injections.
Katherine looks good, most likely without the help of plastic surgery and her talent is sure to make her more well known than ever.
She and her professional dance partner Mark Ballas, started their first dance with a foxtrot, and the judges said her performance was exquisite and the style was impeccable.
Head judge Len Goodman said: “I thought you had wonderful musicality. I liked the detail that went on throughout the dance.” Katherine Jenkins and her dance partner basically set the bar high for the other dancers.
Katherine Jenkins and Mark Ballas Dancing With The Stars
Katherine Jenkins who worked as a model before her singing career, does seem to be cosmetically enhanced, especially when it comes to her boobs. It is obvious that she has breast implants and may also have done other plastic surgery procedures.
Regarding plastic surgery,Katherine Jenkins said: “If it makes you feel better, why not! I’m quite open to that sort of stuff. I don’t rule it out in the future if you want to do something to make you feel more confident.”
Katherine Jenkins has become the latest victim of the Daily Mail's mean girls
There must be a Mean Girl clause in the contracts of female Daily Mail columnists. From the bonkers ravings of Samantha Brick to the malice of Amanda Platell, any attempt to be generous to one’s fellow woman must be resisted at all costs.
From rogue stretch marks to wrinkly knee caps, no celebrity flaw is left unscrutinised. In this universe of the skewed sisterhood, career women are just too selfish to have kids while stay at home mums have no ambition. You can be slammed for being too fat, too thin, too young, too old or just, well, too much.
Jan Moir used to be a witty and incisive columnist in her Observer days but as soon as she crossed to the dark side of Fleet Street, she joined the catty columnists’ coven. Katherine Jenkins is her latest target. Moir let the mezzo-soprano have it with both barrels for having the cheek to look pretty while pounding the streets of London in last Sunday’s marathon.
According to Moir, running in make-up was evidence of being vain and “fame hungry”. It’s ironic she connects looking glammy in trainers with seeking attention. Katherine would have attracted far more coverage if she hadn’t bothered to tie her hair up neatly and eschewed the waterproof mascara. There is nothing the Daily Mail loves more than a picture of a celebrity caught offguard looking uncommonly minging.
As someone whose first full sentence as a toddler was “put some mascara on Mammy,” I’m not averse to the art of cosmetic transformation. It comes with being blonde. Jan Moir is brunette so no wonder she is scathing about her fairer sisters.
She may not understand what it’s like to have eyelashes as white as a piglet’s. Mine only magically appear when I wave a wand caked with L’Oreal Volume Million Lashes near them. It’s much easier for the dark-haired to get away with the au naturel look. I tried it once on holiday. My concerned travelling companions thought I might be consumptive.
There are limits, of course. We have a younger generation of women who have succumbed to a personal grooming routine that makes Lily Savage look subtle. Instead of enjoying the one time in their lives when they can wake up in the morning and not have a face that looks like a slapped bottom, they insist on painting on more colour than a Dulux wall chart.
They are also a generation that has rejected sport and exercise in alarming numbers. The emphasis on appearance may have something to do with this. A recent study on teenage girls and PE revealed a pathological fear of perspiration – 48% of young women said “sweat was unfeminine”.
While we would marvel at the sheer sinew-stretching agony that propelled Paula Radcliffe around a marathon course, PE-shunning schoolgirls of today would just recoil at her damp armpits and the horror of having to take a wee half way through.
In this context, Katherine Jenkins suddenly becomes an unlikely athletic role model. For girls who are put off sport for purely aesthetic reasons, she proves you can sweat in a stylish way. So girls, put your mascara in your kit bag alongside the blister cream.
As for Jan Moir accusing the singer of superficial self-promotion for running 26 miles to raise £25,000 for Macmillan Cancer Support, the only shallow act comes from the columnist herself. She didn’t look further than a celebrity’s glamorous features. The most important face was on Katherine’s back – the picture of the late father she ran the race in tribute to.
Oxford Blue took on a whole new meaning during this year’s Boat Race when the BBC put a microphone on cox Oskar Zorilla and around six million viewers heard him repeatedly use the F-word to motivate his team.
It was reported this week that Ofcom are launching an investigation into the television coverage of the varsity clash after more than 200 complaints were received. While commentators apologised for Zorilla’s swearing they did not switch him off.
But if bad language was a risk, why did they switch him on in the first place? The BBC say they warned both coxes before the race not to swear. Isn’t this rather naïve? Mix extreme exertion with intense competition and the verbal valve for letting off steam is bound to be used. In the heat of battle, they’re hardly going to chirp: “I say chaps, put a move on!”
Indeed, leave the armchair and get up close and personal with any kind of sport and you’ll hear a few expletives – even an Under-11s rugby match…and that’s just the mothers on the touchline.
And in a world where perfectly sane people argue that a 10-match ban is unreasonable for a footballer who feasts on fellow players’ forearms, swearing is the least of sport’s etiquette problems.
Ten years ago our entire extended family gathered proudly at Pontypridd’s Sardis Road to watch my cousin’s son Celyn Ashton win his first U-16 cap for Wales at outside half against England. His opposing number 10 that day was a talented youngster called Danny Cipriani.
Cipriani caught the eye then and continues to do so, though not always for rugby reasons. His latest escapade illustrates why his international career may have hit the skids. Every fly half knows when a 19 stone forward is thundering towards you it’s always better to sidestep than take the contact. The same, Danny, applies to double decker buses...
