Chris Evans
‘Wanted. Breakfast show host. Hair colour optional.’ This was the advert in the window of Virgin Radio’s offices the day after Chris Evans’ high-profile departure from his multimillion pound morning slot. Maybe another advertisement will soon be appearing in the classifieds in the Surrey environs: ‘Cheeky northern ginger seeks employment as entertainer. Kids parties a speciality – can bring own music. Payment in beer accepted.’
Chris Evans might find it difficult getting back in the job market with his reputation for laddishness and laissez-faire. But he still has qualities that could thrill a potential employer – a unique ability to draw crowds and a sparky originality that others attempt, in vain, to emulate. Paradoxically, the couldn’t-give-a-damn public persona that lost him his job (amid a trolley of lager) is the very attribute that has given him such a high price in the image-gripped media industry.
So what next for the man who did more for NHS specs than Michael Caine? Well, as a more powerful magnet for publicity than most royals, Evans could take up some pro bono work on behalf of his wife, whose last album didn’t meet with unalloyed public acclaim. Perhaps a charity Piper-thon could see him DJ-ing 48-hours of Billie’s classics. Or a joint venture could have the two mixing a record with that other celebrity couple Zoe and Norm.
And as yet, the multi-millionaire hasn’t even begun to exploit his brand. With Ginger Productions out of his hands, it could be time for a Ginger Products to hit the shelves. Ginger trains, Ginger planes, Ginger cookies – he could even cash in on recent events by merchandising a new beer; ‘Like the Evans, I’m not bitter’ seems an appropriate slogan. In the manically creative world of marketing, his zany restlessness may also finally prove a plus point – he might be on the verge of his very own Bransonian empire.