Kelly Osborne brands Dannii Minogue “the devil”

Kelly Osborne has hit back at Dannii Minogue after extracts from her new autobiography Dannii: My Story (out now…) were published this weekend, painting a not so flattering image of her mother Sharon.

Kelly ranted: “The best thing to happen to Dannii’s career was that my mother hated her she needs to shut her mouth and concenterate on motherhood.  I will be the first one to admit that my mother did not play her cards right when came to Dannii but trust me when i say Dannii is the devil.  Dannii you are so lucky that i respect Simon enough to not tell the truth about what really happened.  wa wa wa you poor middle aged victum.”

I guess you can’t blame Kelly for sticking up for her mother, but we’re definitely Team Minogue – the vile Sharon O is high up there on our “people we’d most hate to be stuck in a lift with”….

Here’s the story:

“On The X Factor, each judge is given one of four categories to mentor: boys, girls, groups or over-25s. I was overjoyed when I got the boys. On the day of the first live show, when the finalists vie for the public vote, things didn’t get off to a good start. About two hours before we went on air, Sharon’s assistant breezed into my dressing room and said: ‘Sharon wants to see you in her room. Could you pop along now?’

My hair was in rollers, I was wearing a dressing gown and slippers and I only had half an eye made up, so I wasn’t keen to wander along the corridor.

‘Of course I’ll come and see Sharon,’ I said, ‘but can I go when I’ve finished getting ready? It’s my first show and I’m really up against the clock.’

The assistant smiled and left. I decided to see Sharon once I was glammed up for the cameras. It was my birthday, so every five minutes somebody from the production team came to say ‘Happy Birthday’, which slowed my progress even more. Consequently, half an hour later, Sharon’s assistant was back with a slightly more urgent tone in her voice.

‘Sharon really is keen to speak with you, Dannii, before the show,’ she said.

‘Sorry, I will see Sharon before the show,’ I assured her, while Karen, my hair and make-up girl, continued working frantically. ‘But I’m really running late now, and I’m starting to panic!’

Off the assistant went again, looking somewhat tense. Just as I finished dressing, my good friend Terry Ronald, with whom I share a birthday, arrived in my dressing room with his husband Mark. Terry poured me a glass of champagne to toast our birthdays.

About 30 minutes before the live broadcast, there was another urgent knock on my dressing room door, and in bowled Sharon  –  still in her dressing gown  –  with her assistant tagging along behind her. Sharon demanded to know why I hadn’t gone to the Press to tell them what a nice person she was.

‘All this b******s in the Press is ruining my life,’ she snapped.

‘You could be telling them that I’m a nice person but instead you’re adding fuel to the fire by saying nothing.’

‘Sharon, I have never said anything bad about you, and I wouldn’t say anything bad about you,’ I told her. But she didn’t seem interested in what I had to say.

‘I don’t need this!’ she squeaked. ‘I’m a mother, for f***’s sake, do you think I need all this s*** in my life?’

I froze in my chair as she came towards me, gesticulating as she shouted, and I tried reasoning with her once more.

‘Sharon, they are just stupid stories about a non-existent feud. All I’ve ever done is tell people how much I admire you. I have no idea why this is happening now because I’ve never said a bad word against you and I want you to know that.’

It was true: stories were rife in the newspapers about how Sharon was utterly distraught about my appointment as a judge, and how she feared that she, as the older woman, was on the way out. Everyone knew that the stories had absolutely nothing to do with me, and I couldn’t understand her fury towards me.

‘Oh, don’t play the innocent,’ Sharon spat. ‘Cos if you wanna play games, Missy, I’ll play. . . Don’t you worry, I’ll play!’

I turned to Terry and Mark, who were looking on in horror, and then I caught a glimpse of Karen, who was frozen, holding a mascara wand in mid-air. By now, Sharon was screaming at me furiously, and I was starting to get a little worried. It’s hard to remember most of the abuse she yelled because I was so shocked, but there she was, looming over me in her dressing gown, shouting and swearing  –  the 2006 Celebrity Mother of the Year.

My palms were clammy and my chest was tight as I sat there in disbelief listening to Sharon sound off. Terry left the room and then reappeared with Claire Horton and one of the other producers who both tried to calm down Sharon.

‘This is not the time or place for this  –  20 minutes before we go on air, Sharon,’ Claire said firmly. ‘Let’s talk about this later, shall we?’

But Sharon wouldn’t leave, and finally, with about ten minutes to go before the broadcast started, the show’s producers had to remove her from my dressing room, still ranting as she went.

The minute she left, I burst into tears. I’d managed to hold it together while Sharon had been there, but once she’d gone I couldn’t hold it in, and I wept into my hands. I wasn’t crying because I thought there was any truth to what she’d said  –  I was crying because someone I had previously looked up to had bawled in my face and ruined my big night.

‘What the f*** am I supposed to have done?’ I said, trying to catch my breath.

‘It’s not you, babe,’ Terry said. ‘I think she knew exactly what she wanted to do then, which was to screw with your head five minutes before your first live show.’

Karen then took charge and cleared the room.

‘Right, Dannii,’ she said, poised with a bottle of eyedrops. ‘You’ve got to go on in five minutes. Whatever happened just then was b******* and you know it, so you’re not going to let someone who isn’t making any sense ruin your big night, right?’

‘No,’ I replied. ‘Good,’ said Karen. ‘So stop crying, pull yourself together and let’s get you out there!’

She literally threw some more make-up on my face, fixed my hair and ushered me towards the door.

I joined the other judges at the backstage area. I could hear the studio audience going crazy and the music blaring out. Then, when the sliding screen opened to reveal the four judges, I put my hand out to Sharon, who was standing beside me, and she took it. Whatever had gone on before the show, I knew that she was upset. I wanted to show her that there was no truth in what the papers were saying and that we could be friends  –  or at the very least work together.

As we moved towards the front of the stage, Sharon lifted up our joined hands in front of the cheering crowd. I felt relieved. Maybe that’s the end of it, I thought.

But later that same night, when two of Sharon’s acts got the least number of votes, she took off her shoes, ripped off her false eyelashes and stormed off the show.

Swearing in front of the audience, she announced that she was going home and was refusing to take part in the final decision about which act should be eliminated.

I was stunned. I turned to Simon, expecting him to know what to do or say, but he shrugged and looked as puzzled as I did”

See the full story here

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About whatsthedirt
Edinburgh based blogger writing about TV, celebs, music, movies and gossip!

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