Hands off Jordan - Simon Cowell's mine!

STARING AT the photo of them smiling into the camera, arms wound around each other, jealousy twisted through me.

‘So Katie Price fancies Simon Cowell does she?’ I muttered. ‘Well she’ll have to get past me first.’

The ink was barely dry on her divorce from the gorgeous Peter Andre and here she was declaring her lust for Mr X Factor himself.

Tough luck, Jordan, I thought. I spotted him before you.

Five-and-a-half years ago, to be exact, when I auditioned for the pop show just after having my son, Deme.

Fresh from changing nappies, weaning and sleep-deprived from his teething, I decided I’d been hiding my real talents all along.

I was better than Britney, could out-warble Whitney, and knew I could teach Mariah Carey a thing or two.

A tone-deaf husband and eager-to-please toddler only added to my self-belief.

I chose to sing Blondie’s Heart of Glass at the London round of auditions and bombed. But I didn’t care.

Throughout my disastrous rendition, I was just inches away from Simon, Louis and Sharon Osbourne – and was shocked at how sexy Mr Cowell was in the flesh.

On screen, I’d laughed along as Ant & Dec teased him about his high-waisted trousers, terrible haircut and megawatt smile.

Now, up close, he was sexy in a raw multi-millionaire way.  

Raw Passion

He was the sort of man I – and Katie Price – could imagine throwing you over his shoulder in a primitive but oh-so passionate manner.

What a shame I was married, a mum and he thought I was the worse singer he’d heard that day - which was only marginally better than Louis telling me I had absolutely no star quality!

Now I’ve forgiven him for not seeing my star potential.

'Can I be Simon?’ my little boy, Deme, now six, asked when we settled down to watch the X Factor at the weekend.

We were as eager as the rest of Britain to find out the final 12 going through to the live show.

‘Of course,’ I said, handing him his Cowell Costume – a pair of high-waisted jeans and grey V-neck T shirt.

I smiled at my baby, Anais. ‘Do you fancy being Cheryl or Dannii?’ I said.

She was wearing a flared mini-skirt from Gap. More Mrs Cole than Ms Minogue, I decided, cradling her next to me on the sofa.

That just left my husband to play our Saturday night talent game of rate the singer. ‘You’ll have to be Louis,’ I shrugged. ‘Sorry.’

Alexio was furious. ‘That means I have to choose those awful Irish twins, John and Edward,’ he sulked.

Britain’s Got the X-Factor

The music began and we leant closer to the TV, all imitating our chosen judge.

‘Uuggh aaggh,’ my son went, pretending to press a buzzer. ‘Where’s Piers, Mamma?’

I laughed. ‘No this is X Factor, darling,’ I explained. ‘Not Britain’s Got Talent.’

But I could understand the confusion. With the live audience and heightened emotion, the two programmes have merged.

Deme ignored me and carried on buzzing anyway. Anais screamed for her milk as the groups performed, and Alexio screamed in frustration at big-haired as well as bigheaded duo John and Edward.

Me? I just waited for the glimpses of Simon in his (shock) white V-neck T-shirt at home in Hollywood.

And I bet Katie Price was doing the same. She has been arguing with her cage-fighter boyfriend Alex Reid over her lust for Simon.

But I don’t blame her. He might have a weak top lip, a limited wardrobe and loo-brush style hair but Simon’s up there with Brad Pitt, Johnny Depp and Keanu Reeves.

Now Simon, who’s 50 tomorrow, is launching his own X Factor aftershave and I’m really excited. I’ll be able to spray my husband with it and sniff him all day long.

Jordan’s right to fancy Simon but she’ll have to get in line. I’m proud of my Cowell crush – to me it makes perfect scents! 

Do you fancy Simon or are me and Jordan mad? Tell me what you think by leaving a comment below…