Fiendishly Great Telly

Very thin, very attractive ‘teenagers’? Check. Fashion so exclusive and pricey that Ivana Trump may baulk at buying? Check. Hot men for every age group? Big ol’ check. The new 90210 meets and then surpasses every requirement for the perfect American Teeniecom. Aside from the Hills it’s actually the best terrible TV I have seen for a very long time. Fashion Slant prediction? That fringed bob (pictured below) with feature on most heads very soon…

If you fancy some Americana, look at a TV on Monday at 9pm when it’s shown on E4-lets face it, aside from lamenting the end of the weekend, what else would you do?

I sensed my flatmate getting slightly uncomfortable when I started taking pictures but what the hell, here you go:

Cheesy fun for all the family!

Hot mama


Charmingly eccentric, mildly alcoholic gran? Check.

Angst-fueled romance? Oh yeah.



Sandwich anyone?

The bob

The bob in action

D.I.L.F

Seriously, if this dude was my teacher I would have 100% attendance. Yum yum.

Two words, on of them "yes" and the other one "please"

Bunch of Vultures

Left a party without being branded with an indelible marker? Not a good enough party in my opinion. The launch of Vulture Magazine coincided with Rori and Ed’s birthdays and a raucous night was had by all.

Held in one of London’s last remaining clubs, (bitter about the closure of the Astoria and the End-moi?!) Movida, it seemed that everywhere you looked were great -looking scenesters and über-rich totty. That is my kind of party. Unfortunately the best I can do picture-wise is this glorious one of my arm-it is so dark in that club that I couldn’t get a single decent one. Amateurish but sadly true.

Find out more about Vulture Magazine: http://www.vulturemagazine.com/

I Heart DKNY

After getting lost for a while, myself and my friend Olivia approached London's Centre Point (a very tall, yet very ugly building near Tottenham Court Road) with a certain degree of trepidation. 'Not exactly the most glamorous of locations', I sniffed (the January blues have well and truly kicked in!). Luckily, the reasons behind the location choice became clear as we went up the ear-poppingly high escalator and walked into a large room with an almost 360 degree view of London at night. It was truly breathtaking: I even put my Cosmo (and champagne flute!) down to take some pictures.

All of this lovely NY-feeling action was in aid of DKNY launching their new men’s fragrance the (un)imaginatively titled 'DKNYMEN.' It comes in a cool bottle shaped like the Flatiron building in New York.

The scent is good-I like to wear men’s fragrances sometimes, another men’s one I like is Vetiver by Creed-though sadly costing around £100 a go this is a little much for me (and my cash-strapped pockets!) at the moment. Notes of bergamot and mandarin mix with mmm-manly sandal and cedarwoods in this fresh scent. This new smelly will be launched nationwide from 11th March 2009 (exclusively in Debenhams). DKNYMEN will cost around £35.25 for a 50ml bottle.

Going Gaga: G.A.Y UK EXCLUSIVE

Some things are just worth the wait, others are worth the wait and staying up late for. Lady Gaga falls into the latter category. An exotic hybrid, this new superstar has the looks of a spectacularly beautiful transvestite, better moves than Britney, a voice to rival Christina’s, the creative intrigue of Gwen Stefani and the stage presence of a sprightlier Madonna.

Since buying her ladyship’s debut album, The Fame, I have listened to very little else. What’s the point? No other song is as camp-tastic as ‘Let’s Dance’ (number 1 in the charts for the second week running). Nothing else gets me strutting to work like ‘Beautiful, Dirty, Rich.’ I wail like a banshee to ‘Paparazzi’ and can happily dance the night away to the beat of ‘Poker Face.’ This recent obsession is what kept me waiting outside the gates of Heaven (in Charing Cross) for well over an hour. It was pure album-adoration and, squeezed into some kind of sweaty-man-sandwich, I cautiously nodded my head (the only part of my body I could move) in time to the beat, Canon Ixus gripped firmly in hand and pointed straight towards the stage.

After security had managed to scrape the last gyrating topless man from the stage, Gaga was introduced with instructions. We were not to make any noise during the ‘video installations.’ Diva warning bells started to sound. Luckily, these clips weren’t too taxing and gave Gaga the chance to change into another ‘Zena Warrior Princess’ type get-up. In a kind of Warhol-esque parody, Gaga played a character named ‘Candy’ who, for some reason kept announcing that parts of her body had been removed. I’m sure the dancers were glad of the break. Crotch-thrusting and marvellous, they really upped the energy levels and, let’s face it, gave the crowd something nice to look at.

Gaga looked great too. She designs most of her costumes herself and certainly isn’t shy about showing a bit of leg. Her Donatella Versace look caused controversy last year when papers were quick to see similarities in Christina Aguilera’s. Funny no one has noticed how close she is to the first lady of Italian fashion. PVC, patent and monochromatic costumes all added to her slick performance and reminded me that it was about time I bit the bullet and dug out my patent trousers again. Confident and sassy, Gaga worked the crowd further up into a sweaty, fainty climax.

It must have got too much for the singer herself: before the end of the set, she weakly announced ‘I don’t feel too good’ and stumbled off stage. If she was doing it for effect then it didn’t really work: people started to leave the scrum almost immediately. Just seconds later she bounced back onto the stage to perform ‘The Fame.’ G.A.Y presented her with a cake and announced that she was number 1 once again. All hail the new Queen of Electro Pop. Long may she reign.

Beach Blanket Babylon

Exhausted of seeing the same fashion dregs on sale? Beginning to think bargain buckets are becoming a trial? I am someone who values a bargain above many things so you know that when even I can't find anything I can (at least sort of) like in a sale, it is time for a change.

In search of new fashion inspiration I headed to Bethnal Green's swish bar Beach Blanket Babylon (beautiful bar + expensive-but-tasty drinks = lots of fun) to see what's new in the brave world of Shoreditch fashion. The night was called 'Slave to Fashion.' More on this soon. The future's bright, not a bargain in sight.

A Very Crafty Sunday

Bored of whiling away my precious Sunday afternoons in front of the idiot box, I began to consider other potential pursuits. My friend Jayne had the perfect solution: Crafternoon. What could be lovelier than spending Sunday afternoon with your closest, delightfully creative friends? Snubbing money-gobbling pub roasts and tirelessly terrible TV, we whipped out our pens, pencils and inks and got to work.

For the debut Crafternoon, we took inspiration from an exhibition I had read about in December’s fantasy edition of Vogue (did anyone else love this as much as me?!)
The Dulwich Picture Gallery featured an exhibition entitled: ‘What are you Like?’ last December. The collection had been inspired by the Victorian game of describing yourself with images of your favourite things: basically a self-portrait.


45 people in the public eye (including Quentin Blake, Andrew Marr, Brian Eno, David Shrigley, Donald Urquhart, Eric Clapton and Jack Penate) were asked to illustrate their 8 favourite things from a list of 12. Here are the questions so you can join them as we did!

What is your favourite:-
-Animal
-Book
-Item of clothing
-Comfort
-Pastime
-Place
-Possession
-Music
-Pair of shoes
-Weather
-Pet aversion (which creature do you love to hate?!)

Don’t be limited by this list, try to think of some questions of your own. We wondered about each others favourite smells, items of underwear (!), shoes and drinks! I have put a picture of our list underneath the Vogue article.

We got some varied results (shown below) and had a lovely day to boot.

Crafternoon Suggestion: invite a friend who is good at baking or ask everyone to bring their favourite treat, then you can combine the activities with diet sabotage!

Like a Phoenix from the Flames (Possibly)

This New Year, like every other before it, I have drawn up a veritable hot-list of resolutions just made to be broken by mid January. It does not help that these are made on New Year’s Eve, by far drunkest time in most peoples’ calendars.

The first (and arguably the most important of them all) of my resolutions was made outside a club, in a fag-balanced-on-lip-and-holding-another stance: give up smoking. A friend recently (and very cautiously!) pointed out that phrasing this resolution as ‘giving up’ was to imply that the thing being renounced had started life as something good. Really, she chided, smoking was not all it was cracked up to be. “How would you know?” I muttered ominously, violently sucking on a biro.

Giving anything up cold turkey is difficult-for someone with all the willpower of a limp towel its damn near impossible. I decided phase one was to stop smoking during the day, a sort of desperate bid to return to the early, honeymoon stage of my addiction: social smoking. This one’s actually going quite well except I do find I have started to go out a little more and stay out a lot later…

This brings me to the second of my top three resolutions (I’m going to stop at three: it would take far too long to detail the other ten!). On an average 2008 night out, I could be found safely tucked up in Shoreditch’s Kebab Zero by 3.00am. That glorious ship has sailed: it’s ‘goodbye’ succulent, alcohol-quelling lamb Doner and ‘hello’ fresh green beans etc. Excellent. Try pairing a lack of deliciously un-healthy food with a shortage of 20 Marlborough Lights in your pocket. It really is a recipe for disaster-and that’s without a monthly bout of PMT.

Lastly, because I like to really rub myself up the wrong way, I have started to exercise again. This is an interesting one: no matter how many new exercise DVDs are advertised, I always return to my old faithful: Elle Macpherson’s ‘The Body Workout’. My routine is simple. I watch a bit of Elle in all her annoyingly toned, tanned glory and then jump around like an uncoordinated (pale) gazelle. My housemate who lives in the room below mine then gets concerned for the welfare of his ceiling. After a while, I get bored and sit on my bed for the remainder of the tape (to be truthful there is more sitting than jumping involved). But do not fear: I have more determination than this nonsense. After repeating the aforementioned routine at least twice in one week (for one week) I then decide that the tape is not working and join a local gym. I go for at least two months (last year it was three!) then either move house or just stop going, whichever comes first. I finish up by whinging about how difficult it is to cancel a gym membership to anyone who’ll listen: at least they then know that I once, albeit many months ago, frequented a place of exercise.

I think 2009 could be the year that I achieve at least one of these three hallowed goals. It really has to be: I have made the same ones for a very long time. Another option is to do as the sensible do: invent a need to give up something I don’t do: perhaps next year this could be smoking…or eating rubbish food…or exercising more…or…

Platform Palava vs. Louboutin Love

You know that feeling when your credit card is burning a small but distinctively plasticy hole in your pocket? That sixth sense of knowing that nothing, but nothing will deter you from shopping? I was sure that the next time I felt this urge to splurge it would be all over a brand new pair of Christian Louboutins. I wanted that red sole so badly I could taste it in the back of my throat. As soon as work was over I hot-footed it over to my local department store to see what was goods were on offer.

Better stick to the sale though. (I'm not that naughty!)

Like a junkie looking for a fix, I skidded about on my knees. I stared up at the racks of cut-price footwear, seeking that telltale glimpse of Louboutin crimson. There it was: one pair 40.5’s, ooh they were blue metallic. Wait, there was another, this time a pearlised and strappy green pair-there. Were. Loads. Of. Louboutins.

Fiercely I rid myself of my chunky, inadequate Mary Jane (almost knocking an old lady unconscious in the process!) and got busy. Ferociously jamming sandal-after-sandal on my long-suffering right foot, I searched. Fervently disregarding any flat or wedge that came to hand (what is the point? You can’t see the red sole!) I kept trying on the shoes. They were certainly the right size and most of them were beautiful but something was amiss: these were the most uncomfortable shoes I had ever encountered! I have become the victim of the platform and none of these babies had even a hint of one. I started to worry. The number of times I have scoffed at older (and richer) ladies complaining of Louboutin-discomfort. “Oh get over it” I scoffed jealously! A few years ago I even managed to relieve one of them of her red Louboutin dustbag in desperation (if you beg and plead long enough they eventually get the message-shame she didn’t want to part with her Pigalles!).

I am not giving up but I will not settle. I will bide my time until I have enough money for the new season platformed Louboutins. When I have them I will flash that red sole like the brazen hussy they will make me. I will dance around everyone who said ‘they pinch’ and pirouette on a pedestal cloud of red platformed happiness.

Club NME New Year's Eve Ball at Koko

Most people feel the pressure (or the pinch!) of New Year's Eve and usually end up doing one of two things:

1. Spend a large sum of money on a ticket for something which inevitably ends up being rubbish

or,

2. Stay in getting drunker and drunker slowly lulling into a depression lasting well into January 2nd

I am pleased to say that this year I managed to avoid both of these NYE pitfalls and had a thoroughly good time right through to the embers of yesterday evening.

Myself and a sizeable group of companions went to the Club NME New Year's Eve Ball held at (my beloved) Koko in London's Camden. Highlights included the Jon McClure (the Reverend of Reverend and the Makers fame) counting down to the new year before launching into a raucous rendition of 'Heavyweight Champion of the World' from album 'State of Things'.

Pete and the Pirates played live and DJs Chris Martin (of NME radio), Jeff Automatic (Club NME) and Durrr's The Lovely Jonjo all spun enough great Indie/rock tracks to keep us dancing well into new year's day. The night was a fun and unforgettable start to what I hope will turn out to be a truly great new year.