Elton John on song in his anger about ‘designer’ baby comments

I am so furious at my sunglasses I could splinter them into a million tiny pieces, writes Suzanne Harrington.

Except I won’t, because they are gorgeous — pitch- black, 1950s-style. They were a rare treat at an airport duty-free a few months ago. Italians do espresso and sunglasses better.

You can see where this is going. I’m feeling full empathy with Elton John, who was photographed the other day carrying his sandwiches in a Dolce & Gabbana bag. Either Elton is getting a bit forgetful — maybe having two small children has pureed his brain — or he was making a tacit apology to D&G for calling them judgmental and archaic. My money is on the former. Why on earth would he apologise, when the two designers trashed the idea of any kind of family other than the nuclear, heterosexual variety? I love Elton when he throws a fit — his fearless outrage is like a cleansing fire of righteousness. So mighty is his stature as the queen mother of pop, so gigantic his wallet, so gargantuan his ego, that he can say what he bloody well likes without some record company PR quivering in the background, making throat-slitting gestures. Go Elton, with your fury at the internalised homophobia of those two Italian numpties.