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Are you famous? Can you rock a tight-fitting spacesuit? Failing that, are you very rich or a close personal friend of the very rich? No? OK, sorry it’s Earth for you.
The sight of six glammed-up women heading into low orbit for about 240 seconds has captured the headlines this week, among them the singer Katy Perry, who had declared they would be putting “the ass into astronaut”. To be fair, she certainly achieved that goal when she returned to Earth and declared she felt “superconnected to love” after an experience comparable to the Hoffman Process personal-growth fad. I don’t know about personal growth but, as a marketing stunt for Jeff Bezos’s Blue Origin space tourism, this was as good as it gets. Wall-to-wall live coverage for a journey that took less time than an average trip to Tesco.
Anyway, derision abounded, not least about the gimmickry — the photoshoots and the cinched-waist spacesuits surrounding the first all-female space flight, aboard Bezos’s phallic craft. And it must be said that, even by the standards of space projectiles, the Blue Origin is an absolute Lovehoney of a rocket.
It was all just a little too retro. After all, when William Shatner and Bezos himself went up, they were allowed to view the Earth in relaxed-fit outfits. This week was like a throwback to those old sci-fi series where the men were men and the women wore costumes that barely skirted the thigh, except for the sexy female aliens, whose apparel of choice was always form-hugging catsuits.
Some argue that this first all-female flight, selected by and including Lauren Sánchez (aka Mrs Bezos), will inspire young girls to dream of conquering space. But while one or possibly two of the crew had some claim to be there, the main inspirational message seemed to be: get rich or famous or be “superconnected” to a billionaire’s wife. Perhaps that’s unfair. Apparently, the crew trained for two whole days before the flight. And who would not want to look fabulous at 400,000ft. (Technically, more like 350,000ft but I’m a slave to alliteration.) Then again, it’s possible they did not actually mean to sign up, but clicked the wrong link on Amazon and ended up with a space flight and a Prime subscription.
While there was much to mock, a lot of the sniping was rooted in jealousy, including a chunk of my own. This was marketing on a cosmic scale and, bloody hell, we are all reading about it. We may be cracking jokes, but Team Bezos is the one laughing. And, frankly, I’d also don a tight spacesuit and have my photo taken by Elle, pouting like Perry, for the chance to go to space. Of course, my outfit would probably have to be manufactured by Skims and the marketing aimed at the Ozempic community, but I’d be doing it for humanity you know. And for all the joking, it is still quite brave to get into a rocket. I get nervous flying easyJet from Gatwick. These women put their lives in the hands of the Amazon Prime guy.
Anyway, to the question. On the assumption that you are not fantastically famous, or superconnected to a billionaire, how might you get into space? Obviously, you could do the actual work to become a real astronaut, but that feels like a lot of effort. Alternatively, you could marry Jeff Bezos. I considered this myself, but I worry that he’d leave me one day for a sexier journalist.
Failing all that, it is going to have to be space tourism, which is handy because that’s essentially what Bezos is offering. It’s going to stay expensive. I’ve seen estimates placing the cost of a trip at a quarter to half a million dollars, which makes it a realistic option only for those with a net worth of several millions. I keep reading about these millionaires fleeing Britain because of Labour’s tax rises, well perhaps they can spend their remaining years in orbit. It has to be better than Dubai.
In a decade, maybe the merely well heeled will be able to launch and perhaps one day we’ll all be able to be weightless for 15 minutes. It is unlikely to be sufficiently cut-price in time for me, but maybe future generations can look forward to the Ryanair Galactic, blasting off from Luton at 2am. Of course, excess carry-on will cost you £7mn and you’ll have to pay extra for a spacesuit.
But look, bottom line, right now I can’t really offer you any useful advice. Make a record; get a TV show; earn a fortune. Get to know Lauren and Jeff. Otherwise it’s probably Spain again this summer.
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