Celebrities be warned, we are watching your every move

Is that a baby bump, or is it a food bump? Are you wearing those sunglasses because you are feeling cool, or are you hiding the effects of last night's babalaas, or did your spouse bang you about last night? Were you sober or were you sozzled when you pranged that car of yours?

These are not questions that occupy or bother mere mortals like you and I. Okay, if cops find me at the scene of an accident and I smell of booze, they might enquire about my sobriety, or even ask me to take a blood test.

But, generally, no one has any business commenting about my dress sense, about the car I drive, or who I am dating, because I am a nobody. But this is the gauntlet that celebrities and people in the public arena have to run, unfortunately.

The general public feels - justifiably in the case of public officials - that these personalities must account for their behaviour. I am raising this subject in light of the story about Judge Nkola Motata getting involved in a car accident last weekend.

The Sunday Times was one of two newspapers to report on the accident. Both newspapers found it of particular relevance to ask if the judge had been sober or not when the accident occurred. Police spokesman Wayne Minnaar was quick to plead sobriety on the judge's behalf. But the journalists wanted to know if a breathalyser or a blood test had been done. Minnaar responded in the negative.

A friend who had read both stories later told me we had no business reporting on the judge's accident. I reminded my friend that, although the judge had been exonerated by Minnaar, he was still facing some legal woes following an accident he had while allegedly drunk. Subsequent to that, he allegedly hurled racial abuse at the owner of the house whose wall he had driven into following his copious consumption of tea that night.

I reminded my friend that the judge was a public figure. As a result, his actions were bound to be put under public scrutiny.

Some years ago, I saw Tom Sizemore near Times Square in New York. He was dressed, well, just like any of us. As a result, not many people recognised him. But if he'd been wearing a huge fur coat, bling bling , screaming sunglasses, with an entourage of bodyguards he would have been thronged.

I once told a celebrity friend that if he didn't want to be noticed in public, he should act and dress simply. Which he tried. And we pub-crawled and did other things without him being noticed.

The human mind and eye are suggestible. If the human eye sees a person who looks to be in disguise, it gets curious: who's this person? What's he hiding from? If, on the other hand, Khanyi Mbau or Paris Hilton, walks into a pub, dressed simply, no make-up, no noise, the human eye will take one glance and say: no way, it can't be her.

But going back to the story about my celebrity friend. There was a downside to his anonymity: when he tried to make passes at girls, they didn't give him a second glance ... until somebody pointed out who he was. It changed the atmosphere. We were suddenly allowed to enter the VIP lounge at a nightclub.

The bouncer kept a close eye on me: not only was I not a celebrity, I didn't speak the language they were speaking - everything about nothing. In embarrassment, my friend pointed out that I was a celebrated author and journalist. Everyone looked away, or into their drinks. Ho-hum.

I've always known that no nightclub bouncer will let me into a private lounge on the strength of my ability to analyse the state of the nation; no girl will swoon at my feet and throw her knickers in my face on the basis of my knowledge of books or my much over-rated "way with the written word".

Which is why I was relieved - and happy in a morbid way - when people started gossiping about another celebrity who'd just walked in, commenting about how his car had been repossessed, how he'd lost his TV show and record deal. I was happy because the attention had swiftly shifted to him.

Later, we moved to a humble-ish club where they play old school music. When I started dancing feverishly, my friend prodded me and said: "Remember you told me that celebrities bring all the bad attention to themselves? You yourself are a recognisable face, and you don't want people to go around saying that Khumalo makes all these sanctimonious noises about respect for public space when he himself can't respect other people - assaulting them as he does with his atrocious dance moves. You dance like a white man, dude!"

But this column is not about dancing. It's about celebrity; it's about things you should avoid if you are a public person.

If you are a public person it's sensible not to go around wearing sunglasses at night and hope that people are not going to nudge each other and say: "Hey, that guy with the glasses, doesn't he look like that asshole on Generations?"

If you are a public person don't get too drunk and noisy, and hope people are not going to wonder if they hadn't seen your picture in the paper of late.

It's perhaps advisable to hang out with people you know in your private space - unless, of course, your whole motive is to pretend as if you don't want attention when, in fact, attention is what you thrive on.

If you are a public person and you do bling bling things: you have yourself to blame. We shall throng you, scrutinise you, ridicule you, pillory you, watch what you are drinking, who you are sleeping with and how often you prang your cars.