Why Katy will change everything. And nothing.

I met Katy French twice, firstly at a tedious PR event two or three years ago, where she was one of the models, she was nice, friendly, pretty in a plain way and secondly after she achieved 'fame' at an awards ceremony where despite a reputation of being a diva, she was once again, nice, friendly but this time professionally beautiful.

Consistency even in Dublin 'Celebrity' (and I use this term with ironic knowing) circles isn't a given, there are Irish A-listers (again I'm aware of the irony) that one week are rising stars, salt of the earth, easy going people, the next week they morph into vacuous prima-donna's lacking any grace and style - two things Katy had in spades un my opinion - screaming for their water to be served at room temperature.

Irish celebrity in full flow is often a pathetic, infantile sight.

Katy, on both occasions I met her was - that word again - nice.

Katy was a professional good looking girl next door. She was never going to bring peace to the middle east, run a hedge fund nor did I find her to be especially conversational on topics beyond the usual Dublin scene garbage. Hearing I was a 'Dunne' she asked we was I related to Margaret Heffernan. When I replied no, she went on about the Dunne family like they were the Irish version of the Kennedy's. Katy was lovely, lovely in that tediously annoying air kissing, 'let's do lunch' way that Irish socialites practice as their game face.

Her death was as unexpected and as sad as anyone who is young, vital, attractive and was nice to you when you met dying suddenly makes you sad. You feel for her family. And her friends.

Then you move on.

Then the story moves in.

The way her death has become the Irish media's 'Diana-lite', the same media who bask in Irish Model's idiocy - and shifted a lot of paper on the basis on Katy's misjudged public romance and break up - are elevating Katy to something beyond being a pretty face.

A Irish PR version of Sainthood.

It's sick and it's a grotesque example of Independent Newspapers/Sunday World/'Oirish' Mail's brand of Sunday journalism and underscores the maxim that the Irish media fuck you around when your alive, but love you tender when you kick the bucket. They say the British have the worst tabloid culture but in every aspect of this non-story, our 'media', hacks and nobodies incapable of walking by reflective surfaces without checking their reflection, the people who gravitate around gossip and pettiness, the 'lifestyle' journo's without real lives outside the party circuit or real style, these base and worthless scribblers of vacuous tripe and titillating tattle tale from bars and launches contribute nothing to our society, nothing but more nonsense and inanity.

And pain.

Vultures of pop, lowest common dominator 'culture', they circle, they strike. The hold up those they once crucified as messianic prophets of change.

But Katy French's death won't stop coke being snorted from dinner party tables.

To think someone that had a marginal, and frankly comic at times, impact in life can change Irish society's now established social habits by dying is insane and massively misses the point of drug use in this country. High profile people have died from drug use before - yet people still take drugs.

To the public Katy was a model/'professional celebrity' famous not for her musical, political or intellectual prowess, instead her celebrity was based on her looks and her ability to look good. She was not the spokesperson for generation Bebo as she is now being positioned to the public by the glossy media. To suggest that in her death, she will become more than what she was is to rob her friends and family of real memories of Katy French, daughter, sister and friend.