We can learn a lot from children of celebrities

Who would you invite to your fantasy dinner party? (A go-to icebreaker for, well, dinner parties.) King Henry VIII? JFK? Chomsky? Marilyn Monroe? Bono? (on second thought) TRUMP? (Couldn’t resist. Keep your panties on.) Churchill? SIR David Attenborough? Admirable, but meh. Not for me, thanks. Think BIGGER– more relevance, impact, influence and achievement. Moi? I’d plump for Brooklyn Beckham, Lily Rose Depp, Iris Law (daughter of the tidal-hairlined one himself, Monsieur Jude) and lastly not forgetting those perennially precocious Hollywood progeny Willow and Jaden Smith. I’m missing a few, but these would make it to the adult table. (Lourdes and the Penns are relegated to the kiddie table. Really, what have they done?) Celebrity offspring, we’re seeing them everywhere and it’s no wonder. THE Modern day arbiters of taste, culture, style and overall coolness. Now THAT’S a party.

These bright, beautiful teens are shining examples that  hard work pays –worthy role models for today’s self-involved, social-media obsessed youth, demonstrating graft and dedication can land you a Burberry ad campaign or six-figure book deal all before becoming of legal drinking age. These enterprising, young trailblazers not only demonstrate tireless commitment to their craft (ahem), but a strength of character and cast iron will to overcome the social and financial barriers that too often come hand in hand with the burden of being the offspring of a celebrity.

We’d start by discussing Beckham Jr’s forthcoming tome ‘What I See’. (On the wait list, get in line.) His exquisitely honed Bailey-esque point-and-shoot prowess and groundbreaking work examines the art of the perfect selfie- brooding and shirtless in black and white, soulful in sepia or if you prefer, playful insouciance larking about with his superstar pops and a box of Quality Street. Filter. No filter. Groundbreaking, raw, real. Pure. Genius. We all want to see what you see, Brooks. I feel an anthology coming.

Lily-Rose Depp offers the comic relief– champion of the dead-eyed pout whose signature ‘Blue Steel’ glint of entitled ennui mingled with a hefty dose of withering disdain secured her a Chanel perfume campaign. Well, naturally. Not for her the predictable Sweet Sixteen festivities and requisite car, opting instead for swords, guillotine and garlic garlands. (Now there’s a thought for my next parent mixer.) Charming and tres, tres chic. Well, she is half French. And she smokes. So. Cool. It’s refreshing to see a gal not take herself too seriously.

‘I’ve been wearing Burberry since I was really young; my first baby carrier was from Burberry.’ Calm down, Iris luv, we’re getting to you. Sounds just like my childhood, but different. Together we’ll swap sob stories of our adolescent sartorial missteps– yours involving an eye-sore of beige and black check, mine a wardrobe of flag-carrying imitation Polo logos. Enduring this and coming out the other end a Burberry ambassador is nothing short of remarkable. Off you go to perfect your bored-bedroom ‘smeyes’ with Lily.

Willow and Jaden provide the evening’s philosophical hit pontificating the meaning of air, state-sponsosred suffocation of thought and, like, the essence of time, ya know? Willow-  ‘I mean, time for me, I can make it go slow or fast, however I please, and that’s how I know it doesn’t exist.’

Jaden; “This is a fragment of a holographic reality that a higher consciousness made.’

Move over Sartre.

See? There is much we and our children could and should glean from these fearless teens. If only I had such role-models to look up to in my sheltered youth of mixed tapes and Clearasil. Interesting, unique, original and pouting in an Instagram account near you.