They're Just Like Us!

The weird wrinkle to our afternoon at Bekonscot was that we walked into the park at the same time as Gwen Stefani, Gavin Rossdale, and their son Kingston. Tracy first noticed a little boy with these hip little jeans and shoes. Then I noticed a guy about my age dressed like an adolescent, with that wallet connected to the jeans with a chain thing I can't stand, a white t-shirt with a single safety pin through the front (?), and really expensive sneakers. Okay then, a bit odd, though he looked kind of familiar. We didn't put it together until up walks a platinum blond with huge black eyeshades and bright red lipstick. No doubt, it was Gwen.

Let's just say that Gavin and I didn't hit it off. He saw me take a picture of them (which I oh-so craftily did from all of 15 feet away with him staring straight at me; I'm a moron) and as he walked passed me mumbled "paparazzi" to which I mumbled "whatever" and gave him a classic Portnoy eye roll. That'll show him. (Further introspection gave light to a series of better zingers, but thankfully, for many reasons, I live much of life in my own mindspace.)

Gwen is enormously pregnant with her second and she, unlike her husband, seemed quite pleasant. We even saw her sign a couple autographs. Tracy was hoping to strike up a conversation with her. "When are you due?" and "Where are you delivering?" were the two trial balloons, the latter intended to trigger a convo on the Great Portland Street Hospital, where all the celebs birth and where Zach had his tonsils out. But it never transpired. Ben, Zach, and Kingston did unwittingly walk together at a couple stretches, such as in the first picture. As they say in US Magazine, They're Just Like Us!

To close, Gavin will be happy to know that these (admittedly uninteresting) snaps go no further than the l'il old blog. Like many of the hip London celebs, they live over in Primrose Hill, where I gather there's now one fewer luminary we'll be hanging out with. Where's Jude Law when you need him?