he story is starting to become a seasonal staple, like the pretence that anyone actually enjoys mulled anything, or wondering why so many Christmas sandwiches taste like jam, when cranberry sauce is clearly the least essential part of any Christmas dinner. (In fact, as we trudge through a gloomy December, navigating panic-buying, worrying about the sniffles and staying indoors, it strikes me that 2020’s overall mood has been quite December-esque.) Strictly Come Dancing, as festive as tinsel all autumn long, has once again been seen to test the limits of taste, of which it is a noted paragon. For musicals week (ah, musicals, notoriously only loved by straight people), its male dancers donned a touch of drag to perform a routine inspired by the film The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert, which contains drag queens, and also a bus. Nobody seems to have minded about the bus – although the rise of petty whingeing through official channels left me half-anticipating an open letter from the bus drivers’ union about the inappropriate nature of an open-sided vehicle of that size – but there were enough complaints about the drag for the BBC to issue a response to viewers who felt it “inappropriate for some of the male professional dancers to be dressed in drag for the opening dance”. The BBC’s statement insisted that “Strictly is an inclusive show and we always ensure that the programme’s content is appropriate”. Judge Craig Revel Horwood had no time for any nonsense of this sort and told complainants they should simply stop watching the programme. “They are ridiculous. If you can’t grow with society, then turn it off. It’s crazy,” he told PA. “You are always going to come into problems with someone complaining about something. But there was nothing.” As happened last year, when two male professional dancers offended some people by dancing together, I cannot fathom how people conjure up complaints like this, about a show like this. Truly, there is nothing. As a convert to regular Strictly viewing, the idea anyone could possibly consider it “inappropriate” baffles me; the show is as wholesome as they come. (I’d say it was the unfurling of rainbow fans that pushed irate viewers towards their keyboards.) Drag has long been part of light entertainment, particularly in this country, and it is sometimes bawdy, sometimes mainstream, sometimes for nightclubs, sometimes for pantos, and sometimes, it is for family viewing on primetime TV. Tiffany Haddish has the courage to talk about women’s pay Just when you think the limits of celebrity news have been reached – with people competing over the Elf on the Shelf “viral” challenge making me long for the innocent days of the Imagine video – along comes a celebrity saying something worth hearing. Tiffany Haddish, comedian, writer and star of Girls Trip and the underrated Tuca & Bertie, has revealed that she turned down an offer to host a pre-Grammys telecast, a three-hour livestreamed event. She did so, she told Variety, because there was no pay and she would have to fund hair, makeup and wardrobe herself. “All of that would have to come out of my pocket,” she said. I have been listening to a gripping podcast called Chameleon: Hollywood Con Queen, a true-crime thriller that doesn’t involve descriptions of women being murdered. It is about a complex, horrible scam targeting the non-famous worker bees of Hollywood, and one of the elements of this con required people to pay for travel out of their own pockets. For those listeners who were surprised they did so, the hosts explain this is common in the gig economy and among certain unstable professions. People still find it hard to be open about money and pay but, statistically, women expect lower salaries than men and are far less likely to negotiate a pay rise than their male counterparts. Haddish is brave to try to have the conversation about getting paid, or in this case not, and it is important to those on all rungs of the ladder. Mae Martin, a feelgood romance for all It is end-of-year list time again, an ongoing exercise in reminding me of the declining number of musical acts that I have heard of, which is as blunt an indication of age as any birthday. I love these lists like some people love the Christmas edition of the Radio Times; as they circle their festive viewing, I make notes of the films and books and TV shows and podcasts that I have missed in 2020, that I have every intention, at least, of catching up on over the holidays. Having it all served up on a platter means that this is a perfect time for new discoveries. If I can make a recommendation of my own, then I hope that the unconverted will discover Feel Good, the wonderful Channel 4 comedy created by and starring Mae Martin, which I gobbled up in one sitting. Martin plays a recovering addict in a new relationship and Lisa Kudrow is her mother, which is worth the price of admission alone. It was an understated gem, romantic and realistic, absurd and moving, and last week Martin announced that a second series is on its way. I am saving a space in my best-of-2021 list. • Rebecca Nicholson is an Observer columnist