A Dapper Update

ITV2 cancelled Dapper Laughs on the Pull around a week ago, and I know I’m a bit late to the party but I just had to write about it. Because how could I not?

According to Daniel O’Reilly, his now infamous character is DEAD. Did he drown in clunge? He fackin’ wishes!

Yes, Dapper is done. He is no more. Gone – POOF – just like that, leaving behind nothing but a long coil of condoms and the distant sting of Pacco Rabanne in the nostrils. And who should rise from the ashes but a wistful, self-pitying O’Reilly, obviously in mourning if the weird black ensemble he put together for his interview on Newsnight is anything to go by:

Dressed like an Beatnik, O’Reilly spoke with Emily Maitlis about how Dapper Laughs is not in fact an extension of himself like we all thought, but totally and completely made up, and we must be stoopid or summink for believing him. He basically says “This here, me, I’m the real Daniel O’Reilly. I’m real. Back then, with Dapper Laughs, that was all acting. Aaaall acting. That casual misogyny and crude humour? Disgusts me. Disgusting. Bleurgh, sexism. But I had you all convinced, didn’t I! Ha!”

Sat there in his turtleneck and looking like he’s about to procure a large Rioja and cheeseboard from underneath his chair, I was very surprised that the old “Social Experiment” excuse didn’t come tumbling out of his mouth. Because who hasn’t used that as a get-out-of jail-free card (literally) recently? But instead he drops the bombshell that he was acting all along. Whuuuut!

dapper hands up

Take notes, Daniel Day-Lewis, because this is how you really, really go method. O’Reilly was acting hard. He acted so hard that no one could tell the difference between him and his character. So very hard, in fact, that for a while he obviously couldn’t tell either.

And my God, he has suffered for his art. Y’see, when he made jokes that reduces women to “fannies” and “tits” what we didn’t see was O’Reilly at home later that evening, staring out of his rainy window into the darkness, deep in the throes of an existential crisis. And when he said that a female audience member was “gagging for a rape” at one of his gigs, the only thing that was proper moist that night was his pillow as he cried himself to sleep.

But let’s take a moment to appreciate the real star of this interview: Emily Maitlis. Because she is both a pro and a goddess. Maitlis schooled O’Reilly good. She made him look like a right plonker! Watching him squirm as she read his own embarrassing words back to him was a beautiful thing to watch. My favourite part was when Dapper – oop, I mean Daniel – said that this whole saga had ruined his life, and she asked: “So you’re feeling like a bit of a victim now, are you?” WITHOUT LAUGHING. Her poker face is so strong and beautiful and majestic. Oh Maitlis, you sassy dream, you.


But hey, acting or not, we’re safe in the knowledge that Dapper Laughs is no more. Women are free to walk the streets once again without having “she knows” shouted in their face for no apparent reason. We have shown that we will not stand for being the punchline of a joke that we alone are excluded from. Thanks guys and girls, I’m proud of us. Dapper’s fifteen minutes of fame is finally over. Probably should’ve just stuck to the six seconds, ey.


Dapper Laughs: Television’s Biggest Tosspot


Do you like Dapper Laughs? Because I don’t. I really, really don’t. Is that because I’m frigid or a virgin or summink? No, it’s because I prefer my jokes without a side of blatant misogyny. I also like them to be funny.

If you don’t know what I’m talking about, then you can google him, or find one of his Vines spunked over the LAD Bible Facebook page. Dapper Laugh’s brand of comedy is reserved for fans of Bernard Manning, Jim Davidson, necking ten Jagerbombs in ten seconds, spitting, Madeline McCann jokes, peer pressure, Wetherspoons, bullying, circle jerks, shouting at women from vans, misspelt tweets and attaching mirrors to the tops of shoes before a night out.

Dapper – AKA Daniel O’Reilly – has a new TV show. Dapper Laughs on the Pull premiered on ITV2, a channel reserved specifically for teenagers to laugh at Keith Lemon and wank over Kelly Brook simultaneously. So in case 6 seconds of offensive shit wasn’t enough for you, you can now enjoy another 29 minutes and 54 seconds of his brand of bullying that masquerades as banter.

O’Reilly is not funny. He’s that guy you went to school with who was popular simply because he was louder and more obnoxious than everyone else. People laughed at his jokes because to not laugh would be way more hassle than it’s worth. Plus, it was rumoured that he’d had sex with an older woman at a weirdly young age so therefore was a messiah to those still wanking into a sock at night. He is presented as a comedian but he has nothing to say, and so to call him such seems insulting to real comedians who hone their craft for years, creating routines and jokes that are actually clever.

Because it’s common knowledge that real comedians work notoriously hard. Then along comes Dapper, with a fistful of sexist quips, homophobic jibes and minstrelsy impressions, and is immediately handed a TV show and tour. A brief glimpse of his tour on Youtube reveals an hour or so of stand up with no routine, no structure, but rather just an exercise in pointing at the audience and taking the piss out of hairstyles, body types and spouses, and the audience reacting, hysterically – “my girlfriend really IS fat and ugly! AHAHAHA!” – before chugging down the rest of their Blue WKDs and throwing the bottles on the floor for someone else to clear up.

I watched some of Dapper Laughs on the Pull, enough to get a gist of how it works: Ricky was unlucky in love; he was uncomfortable in his own skin. Dapper Laughs comes along and VOILA! Ricky changed from a shy, awkwardly funny guy into an utter twat, complete with fake tan and your mum jokes. Huzzah! Now he doesn’t even need a girlfriend – he’s practically drowning in clunge! OI OI!

This is my problem. It’s the juvenile, misinformed sense of humour that reduces women to nothing more than tits and ass and holes that need penetrating. It seems we’re lumped into two categories: Girls That Would Get It and Munters That Wouldn’t. Dying to know which category you’re in? Well don’t worry, ‘cos he’ll fuckin’ tell ya!

He perpetuates that aggressive sexism that should be dead and buried with Bernard Manning. These days we have great feminists to look up to: Lena Dunham, Emma Watson, Beyonce. And of course feminism isn’t a women-only club. Joseph Gordon-Levitt and Daniel Radcliffe are with us, to name just two (more here). And there are so many male comedians who aren’t touting sexism as part of their routine (i.e. all the funny ones). We should be providing a platform for more people with a progressive, humanist view of the world, rather than pushing this outdated, monochromatic view on gender roles through a TV channel aimed at today’s youth. Because that’s what it is – an outdated ideal in a leather jacket with his balls doused in Lynx Africa.

I’m being dramatic. By rebuking him I am now the kind of woman men like Dapper hate even more. The kind of man that simulates copulation behind your back to his mates as you stand there, unsuspecting, at the bar. The guy that passes casual misogyny off as playful banter, and makes you look like a spoilsport for not agreeing with it. Yes, us women are a prudish breed and probably just need a good shagging. Get back in the kitchen – men talking.

I dislike the guy. He’s shitting all over my glass ceiling. He’s making it acceptable for men to pinch my arse and give my tits a rating, all in the name of “banter”, and that’s not okay.

That’s just how I feel. But what would I know – I’m just a woman.