In a recent column for Daily Mail’s Femail, Bryony Gordon weighs in on the debate surrounding Thomas Skinner’s move from reality television to Strictly Come Dancing, arguing that his past behaviour is pitiful and he has acted like a total pillock, yet she cannot help finding him compelling as he launches his Strictly journey.
Gordon lays out Skinner’s public history in crisp, if astonishing, detail: he appeared on series 15 of The Apprentice and was fired by Lord Sugar in week nine. His catchphrase was reportedly bosh, and the piece notes an unlikely friendship with US Vice President JD Vance. The column recounts that Skinner stormed out of a Strictly press conference earlier this month, and that his personal life has been the subject of tabloid scrutiny, including an affair with a beauty clinic owner shortly after marrying the mother of his three children. The article also mentions Ring doorbell footage in which Skinner appears to beg his mistress to let him in to her home, a fleeting association with the Elizabeth Line as a voice, and even a line of memory foam pillows he designed. These anecdotes—some sensational, others reflective of a life lived in public—frame the controversy as much as any formal dance rehearsals.
The column then pivots from the sensational to the substantive, noting that there have been calls for Strictly to axe Skinner, as if he were a figure beyond redemption. Gordon concedes that Skinner’s past actions were serious and that the public airing of them has been unrelenting, but she questions whether punishment should be the default response for someone who has publicly acknowledged mistakes and expressed remorse. She points to Skinner’s own statements about accountability, including his reflection that his life has not been perfect and that he has made big mistakes, including the moment that affected his wife three and a half years ago. Gordon emphasizes the public record of him owning up to wrongdoing, rather than retreating from accountability, and she casts doubt on the idea that public shaming is the only or best route forward.
Gordon highlights a second phase of Skinner’s public reckoning in which he posted a simple credo about how to handle transgressions: when you make a mistake, admit it, learn from it, and definitely don’t repeat it. She notes that he later deleted another post, a move she suggests does not erase the underlying message but does complicate the spell of public forgiveness. The columnist suggests that the era of automatic cancellation may be overextended when a public figure is willing to reflect, take responsibility, and attempt to repair the damage caused by past actions instead of doubling down on the worst moments.
Against that backdrop, Gordon says she is inclined to support Skinner—she even uses a form of a pre-emptive endorsement, describing herself as leaning toward a Team Thomas stance before the first episode has aired. She stresses that admiring someone for their efforts to reform does not equate to endorsing harmful behaviour; rather, it reflects a belief that people can change and that public life can accommodate growth and rehabilitation. The piece makes clear that this is not a blanket defense of every indiscretion but a nuanced take on accountability, forgiveness, and the way audiences should engage with entertainment figures who are trying to move forward.
Beyond Skinner, Gordon’s column meanders through a string of pop-cultural observations that sit alongside the Strictly discussion. She notes the ongoing fan crush on Margot Robbie as she promotes her film, A Big Bold Beautiful Journey, recounting her glossy image and her backstory, including a time when she lived in a flatshare in Clapham and enjoyed a boogie in a South London nightclub. The writer quips that you can take the girl out of Infernos, but you can’t take Infernos out of the girl, a lighthearted aside about Robbie’s public persona that sits alongside the tougher ethical questions at the heart of Skinner’s controversy.
In fashion news, the column praises Marks & Spencer’s Autumn-Winter 2025 collection, lauding the brand for its ongoing ability to reinvent a once-stodgy image. Gordon argues that M&S has managed to move beyond the old St Michael label and deliver pieces that feel contemporary and wearable. She teases the winter line as something she would like to own in full, blending fashion critique with a broader commentary on how mainstream brands shape our cultural conversations.
The column also dips into light social science, referencing Harvard researchers who have suggested that man flu is not merely a stereotype but a measurable difference in how influenza affects men versus women. Gordon shares a personal note about dealing with illness, hinting at a shared gendered experience in households and the small toxicities of everyday life that accompany romantic partnerships.
Elsewhere in the piece, word leaks about Tramp Health, a wellness center linked to the famous Mayfair nightclub. The concept—wellness megaworship with a price tag—elicits a wry chuckle from Gordon as she imagines the kinds of elite clients who might pay for comfort, spa-style relief, and a sense of exclusivity that comes with the Tramp name. The piece ends with a wry aside about the cultural comfort we seek in high-end branding when we feel we cannot control the more chaotic aspects of modern life, and a joke about the limits of wellness industry pretensions.
Finally, the article closes on Gen Z’s reluctance to leave the house. Gordon cites research showing that two-thirds of Gen Z adults regularly refuse to venture outdoors, while only a quarter of people from all generations venture outside daily. The takeaway, she suggests, is not doom but a reminder that mental health can be supported by simple acts of connection with the natural world, a theme that threads through the other pieces in the column about culture, media, and public life. The tone throughout remains playful yet pointed, a portrait of contemporary culture that recognizes both its fragility and its capacity for reinvention.
In short, the column offers a snapshot of a culture in which celebrity, accountability, and entertainment are intertwined in ways that invite both scrutiny and empathy. It treats Skinner not as a cautionary tale but as a case study in how public figures navigate the messy, forgiving realities of life in the spotlight, while still leaving room for entertainment, fashion, and the occasional irreverent aside about wellness trends and pop icons.