You know that feeling when you see a couple at a party and you just have to squint? Not because they’re ugly, but because your brain short-circuits trying to work out the logic. That was Denise and Jay. She was the girl-next-door who worked a Saturday shift at the local shop and then somehow ended up on your telly every morning. He was the bloke who wore a feather headdress to pick up a pint of milk.
It was like watching a lager and a champagne cocktail try to date. But somehow, the fizz just worked.
I remember the first time a mate showed me a photo of them at an awards show. I nearly choked on my toast. “Wait—Denise from The Big Breakfast is with… the Jamiroquai bloke? The one with the hat collection bigger than my rent?”
