Nom Nom
Huddled in Covent Garden. Owned by Robert Seigler. Head cheffed by Tony Howorth, from La Caprice and the Ivy. This Modern European gem is worth the chat. Le Deuxieme has a great vibe, amazing staff and was a perfect stop after the theatre. The wine was delicous and most of ate fish which was rich and delicious. Not much to say except it’s yummy. And makes you feel like you aint in London.
Two Things in Life
There are two things in life that I worship immensely. The Donmar Warehouse and Eddie Redmayne. Throw them both together and you get Richard II. Every year we go on a family Christmas outing and this year saw drinks at Fuel Bar, the delights of Eddie himself and then supper at La Deuxieme.
Now I have followed Eddie Redmayne from his beginnings. From the Royal Court and the Donmar previously, to Elizabeth and The Other Boleyn Girl. It’s verging on stalking and considering he went out with my best mates sister, I embarrassed myself greatly when meeting him and attemping to play it cool. Doh. And now that he’s a big star, following his performance in ‘My Week with Marilyn’, I have no chance…
Anyway I find him a bit like Jonny Depp. He totally and utterly steals the show. Takes the role, makes it his own (as Simon Cowell would say) and drags you on an intense and utterly mesmorising journey with him. As Richard II he is insane. I mean we couldn’t stop talkiing about it. He is sweating, and spitting and totally immersed in the character. You feel every single word. Now I know I’m getting passionate, but the tickets have sold out and you really need to see it, so head down to the Donmar and queue for a ticket. It’s that good. The acting is out of this world and I would expect nothing less from the Warehouse itself as well as my true love…
One Hundred and Eightttyyyyyy
I had the best night of my life before Christmas. And if you aren’t a darts fan (which I now am) you won’t have a clue what the title of this blurb is chatting about. So if you like beer, fancy dress, shouting or just plain darts, then you need to keep an eye on tickets for next year at the Ally Pally, officially known as Alexandra Palace. On the last night before the holidays, myself and 5 lads dressed up for the occasion and boy were we excited. I had been told the dress code was Hawaiin and had trekked across London in search of floral items – bra, bracelets, necklaces, hoola skirts and the likes. When we turned up looking sufficiently stupid, we realised that my friend had found it funny to tell me it was Hawaain. And everyone knows that bad fancy dress is worse than no fancy dress. We looked rubbish surrounded by people in all in one father Christmas outfits, the whole cast of Batman, pizzas and lots and lots of turkey hats. Oh well. Onwards and upwards. We hit the bar. Jugs of beer for the classy and odd WKD blue mixes, which allowed you the chance to win turkey hats. I ended up with a bag. I think I might of stolen half of them but hey, a turkey hat at the darts = respect…
The darts was amazing. I high fived the Hammer. I screamed my head off. Jumped up and down. Now apparently more beer is consumed at the Darts than at the football which should give you a vague idea of the kind of night it was. Absolutely cracking. Worth a trip. We are gathering a team of 30 for next year. And I’m going as a dart board with the 29 other people as darts. I think I’ve been screwed again? But who cares. I love the Ally Pally…
The Stud of the Singing World. Oi Oi
Happy New Year to all you little weirdos. I’ve recovered from the intense amount of bread sauce and chocolates and turkey and cranberry sauce and brussel sprouts and wine and am back… Squidgier but weirder and with extremely odd plans for the year ahead…
If you’ve always been interesed in a bit of opera but feel it might be a bit too hardcore for you, then I have exactly what you are looking for. A New Year Gala by the Oxbridge Opera Company is going to rock your world with the sweet sounds of Ivor Novello (who is an absolute hottie by the way). Novello was one of the most top notch song writers and this musical theatre/ operetta is being performed by 12 singers (including my banging friend Larry Blackshaw) in vintage black tie. Imagine the movie ‘Bright Young Things’. Imagine 1940′s-esque. All near St Pauls. All blooming romantic/ catchy/ a cracking night out for the New Year.
Check out the video. I almost cried and I haven’t even made it to the 14th January yet. So book your ticket for a mate, for a date and I will see you there. Laaaaaaaaaaa. Don’t worry. I won’t be singing…
I’m practically a princess
So on Wednesday night, the Pomp ladies jumped into their poshest clothes, into a taxi and up to Kensington Palace. Yes. Kensington Palace. I am pretty much Kate Middleton. All this malarchy was for the launch of a new luxury brand consultancy group called Luxury Alliance. In the state rooms of the palace, 300 glamorous people drank champagne and talked about all things posh. I had to leave my trainer chat at home. I do love trainers by the way. I then waddled through into have a look at the luxury showcases. Everything from diamond encrusted shoes, spas, hotels, cars, jewels. You name it. They were showing it. Further through we listened to speeches from the director of Forbes as well as the founder of the Luxury Channel. Then back through for more drinks and two canapes. Now for £400 each (luckily I was on a press pass so wasn’t forking up) I was pretty upset to only get two canapes! I would of been livid if I’d paid. I was livid and I hadn’t paid. So much champagne and two canapes. Hurumph. I’m angry when I’m hungry. Anyway bonded with lots of people. Cracked some inappropriate jokes and then whizzed home laden with goodie bags. Loved seeing the state rooms. Loved being a bit posh for an evening. Especially when you aren’t paying. I pretty much feel like I live there now… Well sort of…
Swishhh swooosh
Last night in the pouring rain I skated over the Natural History Museum for Africa on Ice. While the rained continued we huddled inside drinking mulled wine, listening to African beats and munching on potato wraps and hot dogs. Once the rain stopped, and we were already feeling a wee bit tiddly, we got our skates on and spent over an hour scooting round and round. With the Natural History Museum in the background and christmas lights everywhere. I really felt so Christmasey. Post rain that was. The rink was almost empty at the end so we whizzed around holding onto the penguin kiddie supports. And then ran back inside for more food and drinks. This was all topped off with a crystal entry bracelet, entry into Dorsia and cracking pomegranate cocktails on the flip side. Super evening and all in the name of charity.
Wee willy winkie
Wednesday brought a day that had been in my diary for a blooming long time. A very long time. And I couldn’t of been more excited. With some pyjamas stuffed in my bag. And the answer to a riddle in my head. I rocked over to the quirky boutique 40 Winks Hotel. Welcomed by the owner and runner, the one and only Mr Carter, you gain entry with your answer. You are then escorted by glamourously vintage ladies up to the hotel suites upstairs to change. While everyone else was tying ribbons on their head, applying red lipstick and slipping into something silky and sexy, I was pulling on a woolen winter nightie of my Dad’s which has ho ho ho Father Christmas pictures all over it. Yup. It looks as sexy as it sounds.
All kitted out we padded downstairs into a room of pyjama clad people. Teacups of Hendricks gin with elderflower and apple are constantly fed to you. Nibbles and snacks scatter the dark room. Here you bond. Chat. Flirt. It’s all about the flirting. Then you are split into two groups. The elves and the reindeers. Each group heads into a different room.
Here the storytelling begins. A small blonde curly haired girl in a flowery dress and a cellist friend, take you on a magical journey of love and adventure. You sit snuggled on sofas in the totally glamorous sitting room, with goosebumps and grins as you watch her. Then you pootle back downstairs for more tea cups of goodness and chocolate. Here you continue to flirt. And flirt some more. Mainly with girls except a couple of boyfriends that were dragged along. Then you are led into a different room and a tall brunette ladette begins her story of sadness and drinking and banter. Completely different. Equally wonderful. I looked like a child cross legged in front of her teacher. I was utterly enchanted.
After this we gathered for prize giving. I was upset not to win the most glamorous prize but hey, each to their own. Then we were pleasured with the sounds of Mee. Beautiful. Quirky and wonderful. More drinks. Then we were all told to take off our clothes and… Only joking. It felt like the orgy was about to begin but it didn’t. We clothed ourselves. And headed home. Snuggled. Fed. Watered. And dreamy. Storytelling nights are all they are cracked up to be. Very weird. But then I am a professional weirdo.
Choowwww Bellaaaa
On Tuesday I scootled over to Munster Road for a wee bit of Italian food. I’d never been to this place before and 5 of us snuggled onto a table surrounded by couples. Adorable vibe as if you are in someone’s kitchen. Papa Ciccia is really great. Scrummy pizzas. Bread and olive oil. Great vibe. Just really great for a Tuesday night out. Without the pervy choowwww bella…
Cheese, wine and the ocean
I love the sea. Especially when you stumble across a food festival in full swing on its edge. All inclusive of a santa claus themed run to top it all off. Which is exactly what we found when last weekend a group of us headed down Cornwall way for some cider, surfing and eating. And boy was it good. With our starting point being Rick Stein’s Seafood Restaurant we were set for a cracking day. Calamari starter, hake for main and a beautiful lemon tart for pudding I was all foodied up.
Then came the food festival. Cheese, olive oil, bread, chutney. Demonstrations from chefs. And just to celebrate this event, the pub brought in a DJ set and our relaxing lunch and stroll round Padstow turned into a 12 hour bender which resulted in me hanging from the hooks in the beams of the pub. Classy bird. One guy decided it was necessary to get completely naked at around 7pm. It was one of those days. And with some surfing. More eating. Walking and all. It was one of those weekends. Absolutely cider-fantastic.
Beauty within and all that jazz
Last week, I got driven to the Centrepoint for an Origins product launch. With a blooming stunning view of London. Breezy white sheets. Face massages. Soothing music. Calming smells. Relaxing tastes. Fruit. Mini muffins. Juice. Goodie bags. Two blooming impressive doctors promoting the new serum from Origins being launched in 2012. Look it made me want to stop drinking. Live in a hut. And eat only vegetables. That was until I hit the pub later that day. Doh. Beauty comes from within but at times it also comes from rocking around with a cider in one hand.
