Penny Lancaster, the spouse of Rod Stewart, has been subjected to a barrage of criticism following her discovery aboard a yacht off the coast of Sardinia, Italy, sporting an incredibly little bikini.
The stunning blonde appears to be “sagging” and “drooping” in the swimsuit, according to some fans, while others argue that the 53-year-old model isn’t particularly amazing and that there’s “no need for name calling.”
Discover why fans are enamored with Lancaster’s beachy appearance by reading on!
Rod Stewart took some of his huge clan to Sardinia, Italy, to spend much-needed family time with his wife Penny Lancaster, despite his hectic tour schedule.
Lancaster, who wed the celebrity in 2007, posts on Instagram, “Another amazing family holiday together (a few were sadly missed) in the [Mediterranean] bonding, healing, love and laughter.” A picture of the 79-year-old “Maggie May” singer with her daughters, Kimberly, 44, and Ruby, 37, and sons, Aiden, 13, and Alastair, 18, is attached to the post.
There were also his two sons-in-law, Adam Sumner and Jake Alick, and his grandson, Otis, who is little over a year old.
In a July 2024 interview, Lancaster says to Hello!, “We like to take every opportunity to bring the family, children, and grandchildren together.” “The whole clan gets together at least twice or three times a year, but it takes a lot of planning because part of the family lives in America and part in England.”
“Incorrect bikini top”
The patriarch and his spouse were seen enjoying the sun on a $65 million super yacht in Porto Cervo, an Italian seaside town in northern Sardinia, Italy, prior to taking off again for his residency at Caesars Palace in Las Vegas.
Stewart, the singer of “Tonight’s the Night,” is seen wearing a lemon-colored button-down short-sleeved shirt and shielded his face from the blazing sun with a towel.
When the singer “Do Ya Think I’m Sexy” first met Lancaster in 1999, the model Rachel Hunter was still his wife, and Lancaster wasn’t afraid to flaunt her stunning 53-year-old figure.
The devoted wife was spotted lounging on the deck of the opulent yacht or playing in the pristine blue waters while sporting a little black bikini with a ponytail.
Some followers commented on Lancaster’s appearance on social media, saying the mother of two should reconsider her clothing selections.
“After noticing the drooping, sagging, and wrinkled mammary sack barley that was being restrained by being stretched to its highest limit…It would be more along the lines of Ewwwwww,” a critic tweets.
“Incorrect bikini top,” says a second. A third observes, “For a woman who was famous for wearing clothes for a living, she is sorely letting the side down,” in reference to Lancaster’s modeling career. She should understand that “just because you can, doesn’t mean you should” in addition to the fact that she needs a stylist before stepping out in public.
One person defends her while acknowledging the critiques, writing, “The swimsuit is not flattering.” Put an end to the criticism; she is in her 50s. She is not amazing, but there’s no need to call her names.
Another person snipes, “Leave her alone, they are on vacation on their yacht not a public beach.”
Style icon
The musician, who was born in London, teased his return to Caesars Palace on July 12 by posting a picture of himself seated on the yacht and dressed in a short suit with black and white stripes.
In his letter, he states, “I’m all decked up for the holidays and excited to visit Caesars Palace in Las Vegas from July 24 to August 7.”
The ensemble is a modern take on the one he donned in 1973, one of many “anything but subtle” ensembles that made him a “fashion icon” according to Vogue.
How do you feel about Lancaster’s swimsuit selection? Please let us know what you think!
Neighbor Refused to Pay My Daughter After a Week of Babysitting – You Won’t Believe How I Got Even
Lucy came home after a long week of babysitting, her face pale and her eyes filled with tears. My heart sank the moment I saw her, as my daughter rarely cried, and when she did, it was never like this—silent sobs, her chest rising with every shaky breath, her body radiating the kind of hurt that makes a mother’s heart ache.
I rushed to her side, placing my hands on her shoulders gently. “Lucy, what happened?” I asked softly, trying to keep my voice steady.
She wiped her tears away but didn’t speak right away. Her hands shook as she fiddled with her sweater, and I could tell something was deeply wrong. After a moment, she finally looked up at me, her voice barely audible.
“Mom, Mrs. Carpenter didn’t pay me for babysitting her kids,” Lucy whispered.
I frowned in confusion. “What? Why not?”
“She said it was a ‘life lesson,’ that I should’ve gotten everything in writing. Then she slammed the door in my face!” Lucy’s voice cracked, and fresh tears rolled down her cheeks. “She said babysitting was hard work, and that was payment enough!”
I could feel my blood starting to boil. Mrs. Carpenter had refused to pay my daughter for babysitting all week, dismissing it as a lesson in responsibility? My fists clenched as I tried to stay calm for Lucy’s sake.
Lucy’s voice trembled as she continued. “Her kids were terrible, Mom. They wouldn’t listen to me, they threw toys at each other, and when I tried to make them do their reading, they said, ‘Mom says we don’t have to.’ I worked so hard all week, and she acted like it didn’t matter.”
“Oh, sweetie,” I whispered, pulling her close. At 15, Lucy was trying so hard to be responsible, and this was her first real job. “How much did she owe you?”
“I babysat for four hours each day for five days… so $220. I was going to use it for an art course I really wanted to take,” she sniffled.
Without hesitation, I reached for my purse and counted out the money. “Here, you earned this.”
Lucy’s eyes widened. “Mom, no. She’s the one who owes me, not you.”
“Don’t worry about it. You worked hard, and you deserve to get paid. I’ll take care of Mrs. Carpenter myself,” I said, hugging her tightly. “I’m going to make sure she understands that cheating you isn’t something she can get away with.”
As Lucy headed to the kitchen for a snack, I began planning. I wasn’t going to let Mrs. Carpenter get away with this. But I knew that confronting her in anger wouldn’t work. I needed a smarter approach—one that would teach Mrs. Carpenter a lesson of her own.
That night, I lay awake thinking about Lucy’s excitement when she first got the babysitting job. She had been so proud, so eager to prove she could handle responsibility. And now, Mrs. Carpenter had robbed her of that joy. I tossed and turned, replaying the events over in my mind. By the time morning came, I had a plan.
At 10 a.m., I knocked on Mrs. Carpenter’s door, forcing a pleasant smile onto my face. She answered, looking surprised to see me.
“Rebecca! What brings you by?” she asked.
“Oh, I just wanted to thank you for the valuable life lesson you gave Lucy,” I said sweetly, watching as confusion flickered across her face. “You know, the one about contracts and trust?”
Mrs. Carpenter’s smile turned smug. “Well, yes. I’m glad you understand. Children need to learn things the hard way sometimes.”
“Oh, absolutely,” I replied, pulling out my phone. “I’ve been telling everyone about it. In fact, I posted about it in our neighborhood group.”
Her smile faltered. “Posted? In the neighborhood group?”
I showed her the post, along with the flood of comments from other parents in the neighborhood. Mrs. Carpenter’s face paled as she read through them.
“Melissa said she’d never trust someone who treats kids like that,” I said. “And Janet from the PTA? She thinks we should bring this up at the next school board meeting. Says it reflects poorly on the community.”
Mrs. Carpenter’s eyes widened in panic. “Rebecca, I didn’t mean for this to go so far—”
Mrs. Carpenter’s confidence crumbled, and she stammered something about a misunderstanding. But I wasn’t interested in her excuses. I gave her a final smile, turned on my heel, and left.
Later that evening, Lucy came rushing through the door, an envelope in hand. “Mom! Mrs. Carpenter paid me! She said there was a misunderstanding about when she was supposed to pay.”
I smiled, pulling her into a hug. “That’s great, sweetie.”
As Lucy headed upstairs, I couldn’t help but feel satisfied. Some people might say I’d been too harsh or petty, but I didn’t care. My daughter had worked hard, and she deserved to know her efforts had value. Sometimes, the best lesson isn’t about taking the high road—it’s about showing your child that no one has the right to take advantage of them.
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