18 January - 'sleb w/end sightings

Yes I get around, but I was only going to see the Neil La Bute play (awful title) at the Almeida on Friday mainly because Steven MacIntosh is in it. And yes, I do remember J. who's worked with him saying he's happily married, 3 kids and so on.

At the bar is Keira K and boyfriend and some people wonder if she has a wig as her hair seems very thick. I don't know. I don't care because Iain Glenn has walked in wiht a woman friend too and he's much more interesting to me than KK. He's well Gorgeous!!!!

I could write more but you can read the reviews of the play elsewhere.

Then Martin McCutcheon was entering Beach Blanket Babylon as we exited to go eat cheap Thai up the road after finding the atmoshere of collective bankers on a night out pre-Maddox or other clubs where they hope to snag a model (though the model is out looking for beyond banker ie prince and they never get this basic misalignment of wishes) too oppressive. Toph was not well and on oj's and so was blathering on about 'Who are these people? why can they still drink £12 cocktails after fucking up the economy'. Which is not really a well thought out accusation, he's smarter than that usually.

Then on Sunday as I was gathering info on wardrobes at Conran, who should be sitting on a sofa but Alan Rickman (we're not worthy) last seen on my inbound plane into Heathrow in a sweet movie about Californian wines in 1976, 'Bottle Shock'.

In between I actually spent time chatting to people I know as opposed to people I spotted here and there.

12 October - Plays

Ivanov’ was good but Toph implored me to never get cheap tickets again. The ungrateful little sod. I dislike spending time with finger on the dial trying to book tickets for something within the first hour of them going on sale and frankly I have other things to do.

In this production I was limited to the Friday or Saturdays only due to his lordship’s absence in the belly of the beast in the provinces (where one’s hotel is the Jack Rabbit, I can only imagine) so yeah, the cheap balcony seats came up and I grabbed them. I have to agree that watching the top of actor’s heads is not that great but they do look up and frankly the difference between last row in balcony and front row in balcony is not significant. The voices carries fine, and ok you miss some facial expressions and nuances but these plays are sort of by numbers by now if you’re familiar with the canon: the bored farmers/bourgeoisie in the provinces, the impending bankruptcy of one or the other character, the old man in love with the young girl or vice versa and all generally moaning about their lot in life. I wonder always how much of it comes from Chekhov’s first hand experience with his patients…

We then went for a drink at the Groucho where we were very well behaved and left before witnessing anything of note. I’m always reminded of the story about this woman who worked with a friend in TV (god it’s always TV that features the biggest drunks) who gave up drinking after one of her very regular sozzled evenings ended here – as was her usual - and she found herself snogging Johnny Vegas. Which, you know, she’s a good looking woman of 40 something I’m told, no need to go there.

5 September - Laters

Bit busy today, have other stuff to write but I'll just leave you with this one.. did you khow about Sharon Stone and Bill Clinton? On Airforce 1? Me neither.. Maybe it's really old but I got if from Jon Bon Jovi who was there, as a sort of decoy, though he didn't tell me but a friend. How much do we believe it? And as a friend asked, which one got tired first? Are there any pictures?

19 July - City Boy & Jimi Hendrix

So one night you go see young and hip artists and their hanger-ons (god, I’m a sort of Sadie Frost ...minus the kids, the famous ex husbands, the money, the fashion business, the house on the Hill, the young MTV/TV/musicians lovers… but we’re the same height I think) and the next you go see…. my first tribute band! Are You Experienced - who play Jimi Hendrix tunes.
Guess which one I enjoyed the most? Well the one that allowed me to play air guitar, shake my mane and generally kiss a few friends in town from their country pile. Shame I had to leave… am told that reprobates N. and S. spend the rest of the night out. But then they’re a couple of pirates and at the last look they didn’t have a job to go to in the morning.

Earlier had gone to Babs' garden thing in aid of something I didn’t quite understand, and met City Boy (Geraint Anderson) and his new g/friend (Noelle?). He’ s very into her, met at some festival off his head. He’s sooooo GAY! So elfin and un macho looking, he wears beads round his neck. What a disguise! Not decided what I think of him yet. No desire to read his book. I think it’s got to be 20% real and the rest the usual common city myths of drugs and share dealing and Jacuzzis with prozzies etc. I can’t possibly learn something I don’t already know though may be wittily written and fun, but in that case I should get on with Seb Horsley’s bio which is a witty line a paragraph. Forgot to say that had gone to his paperback launch and this was very entertaining indeed, he belongs to the stage. Though he was upstaged as the event was graced by the presence of mighty handsome Gavin Rossdale who seemed to know Seb’s girlfriend. This being before the weekend where he was getting apoplectic watching Federer loose at Wimbledon. Bless, Sebastian is very open about how much he wishes he’d been a rock god but it was not to be. Gavin instead must have fallen into it. Remember when nobody here bothered with Bush and the buggers went stateside and started shifting tons of records? We were stunned.

Anyway, where was I? Don’t begrudge City Boy cashing in from his silly column, but… when he described his forthcoming ‘charideee’ single I had to barf. Also met the docu director of Battyman (great premise, one day West Indians may grow out of gay bashing though I don't hold much hope) and a forthcoming docu on Hutch Hutchinson (lover or Edwina Mountbatten AND Cole Porter, wonder what common ground he found in them). Interesting. My very own docu director friend who had invited me, had to retire early as tired from filming but told me in the taxi that he had been wearing his whitest, bestest boxer shorts as was subconsciously hoping I’d take them off him. That was a good previous life…. He did dare me to feel his hard on on exiting the cab. And did I?

25 January - James Mcavoy & May weddings

That was a good evening. A g/friend takes me to see a preview of ‘Juno’ which is hugely enjoyable and well paced and has some great performances, very credible. I was curious as a link to my blog appears on the same page of a distinguished Blogger and she also links to Diablo Cody (scriptwriter of ‘Juno’) and it kind of gives me a nice kick. When you think about it, coming up with an idea like ‘Juno’ is kind of not difficult. It’s not like you have to think out a plot, like ‘No Country for Old Men’ for example, and handle a more complex narrative, plus you can make all the action take place in one location. You only have to fake the weather (there’s a 9 months span to the story).
Anyway, yes, as with many of these things, Miranda July’s one from a couple of years back for example, you sit there thinking ‘I could have done that’. Much as I think about half the stuff I see at the Biennale. But of course that’s not the case. There’s a huge amount of determination and hard work involved and am too busy flitting about to sit down and turn up the required number of pages, plus er.. the business of selling them to someone.

Shortly afterwards I go to a b’day party for a 25 year old. Wish he was my toy-boy but no, he’s the son of a friend. I arrive at the first floor room of the chosen pub only to be told that I’ve just missed James Macavoy and Julian Rhind Tutt by half an hour. No, they’re not friends of the 25 year old but were huddled talking downstairs. Darn. I go to the bar on the ground floor and Mr Macavoy is still there wit friends and then at the bar ordering next to me. He’s unremarkable and not v. tall, not v. anything. In fact he's less noticeable than my friend's kids (the other brother just got a part in the Buddy Holly musical and he's a handsome young man if I may say so and not incur her worries. And yet, James McA is such a good actor. Not majorly good in ‘Atonement’ but good in the other ones. I saw ‘Atonement’ only recently on dvd at home and had totally forgotten the ending of the novel (well they sort of changed the delivery of it by inventing the Vanessa Redgrave interview) and I ended up crying for a good few minutes. So happy I wasn’t at the movies. Toph had the exclusive and rare pleasure of consoling me which was kind of cute. Think he was touched I can have tears jerked so easily. And by Keira who on the whole I can’t stand. Well, I have nothing to say to top actor so I take my wine upstairs, but after i leave D. gives him some of her son’s b’day cake and says he was a bit stunned by her gesture. Bless, it must be hard to have so many strangers invent reasons to come up to you.

I move on to join friends at Century. Haven’t seen them for a while as they moved out of town. It’s near Stansted but it may as well be the moon as my diary is littered with ‘Must go to Essex’ for every Sunday of Nov. Dec. Jan. And soon it will be Feb and that 90 mins journey just doesn’t get made. We’re lazy. The party has been together for a couple of hours at least and they’re on mojitos and champagne. S evolves from paying me some compliments to full on chatting me up. He has half a row of teeth missing, he’s a smoker and I can smell it, and he’s put on 2st. since i last saw him. That’s hardly going to sway me, even if the personality is good. He says ‘I’d like to give you a massage covering you in Mdma’ (wow, sir, that would be an expensive massage). He also adds he has a flat round the corner in Soho. Well now am really tempted. Not. No, I like him a lot, he’s a great guy, top barman and soon to be top majordomo to an 80’s star who is permanently living in Ibiza. Butno. I like teeth and a lean physique and fresh breath. These are some of those non negotiables. For a moment I wonder how I could obtain the mdma and jus go off... But it’s kind of pointless if I’m on it and the BF (who is out watching Mick Jones’ ‘new’ band with guest appearances by 2 Sex Pistols and an audience of 50 somethings) is not...

So, it remains no. Plus am busy discussing the ‘hen’ w/end that my friend L may take us to prior to her nuptials in May. A riad in Marrakesh. Now that’s stylish. And gay M. Is allowed to come and he’s so lovely to be with. L. Wants to wear a Jessica Rabbit style wedding dress. Which is pretty good given her curvy shape and if she loses some serious weight that has crept up in the last year or so. But what shall I wear? Now I have a project. How nice. I make it back by 2am. It was kind of hard to leave the comfortable banquette and return but it could have gone on till the morning and I simply can’t last that long.

3 September - Curry King & Benazir

Out with D. and the curry king friend, (when is he ever going to blog about his passion or form the Facebook curry lovers network? I keep telling him!) who happens to own a commercial promo company and whose 13 year old daughter has had a book published this week. For an advance of 1k and bear in mind it’s only 3000 words. Way to go teenage empire building kid. I feel humbled. So we celebrate and chat and just to get out of the usual pop gossip, how about a bit of political goss?
Our friend D. asks curry king if he knows how to get to Benazir Buttho (or Bhutto, sorry the net is equally divided over the spelling) since he went to Uni with her and D’s reporter friend T. is on his way to Pakistan to cover the elections/return of émigré prime minister etc. CK says he still knows someone who keeps in touch with her, though he personally doesn’t. A grin spreads over his face as he says when she was at Uni she was a bit of a fast girl. And he laughs. I think we should be told if CK has been there but he won’t reveal.

Uh ho! Maybe I shouldn’t stray into politics in my blog. Unsubstantiated ha ha ha. As it wasn’t him she slept with, but others. Several. Oh there I go again, casting aspersions. Somehow it just makes me laugh that all this Eastern leaders have to kow tow to their religious mafias when in fact they get up to the same as everybody. Bit like the catholic church thundering against gays and being the largest…. Oh I better stop there.

2 September - Prince Harry & David Gest

No, they're not friends but they share a title on account of the following.
So we go to G's birthday drinks in a posh pub on Saturday evening. Ok, it's in Earls Court but it's posh enough to be discussing stuff with horse breeders, mining prospercters or impresarios and the odd Morgan Stanley banker and a bevvy of Chelsea blondes. We're sort of interlopers in this world though when Rusty Egan arrives on his way to a dj gig in Sloane Sq then am not so much of an interloper. I mean, who else in this room went to Club for Heroes back at the Barracuda in Baker Street in, oh dear, let's draw a veil on the year. Anyway, nobody but me.
Certainly not his stunning Croatian nanny who says she's 21 and shy when I ask her if she wants to meet my friends. It's more likely she's laser eyed their attire and decided they're not worthy. Big mistake as J. is a mega hedge fund manager and it just so happens he has not put on any rich looking glad rags just to come out for a drink.
Anyway, we leave early as we have to go to a barbecue in a square nearby given by some adorable French yoga buddies of the BF. On the way out BF, who's a step in front of me says 'That's Prince Harry' and so he is, fresh from delivering his best ever memorial speech for his mother the day before. He's looking down trying to pass unobserved but he's just too recognisable with that hair. He looks up as M. goes past and catches her eye! Hurrah for M., a successful debut novel in your nearest Waterstone (handily positioned next to best selling Jodi Picoult) and now the royal eye. For all we know he may have purchased her book (or Chelsy has!) and never know who he gave the eye to.
Never mind.
The next day I email a friend to say the above as am all excited by having walked past royalty. Flesh and blood like you and me, but A list plus don't you think?
Her reply comes quickly:

Last night at Harry Morgan's (St. John's Wood salt beef bar and deli) who's there
table 1 - David Gest - alone and badly dressed !!!!
table 2 - Vanessa Feltz, fiance' and friends
table 3 - the P. family (visiting from LA) and me!

She wins!

24 August - Trannies & Karaoke

What is it with karaoke? Is it this year’s ten pin bowling? Why are private booth type places opening and Sony launching a home kit? I know it can be addictive, anything cheese is, look at school discos and guilty pleasures. But how long do these silly trends last? And is there really any money in them? Can someone tell me?
So it is that we found ourselves at the Café de Paris for the launch of something called Songstar which was also raising money for an HIV charity and had various trannies doing Karaoke and vogueing on a catwalk/stage and awarded points by a ‘celebrity’ jury. During which it was observed that:
Sean Rowley is the only man I’ll ever tolerate a beard on. It was so soft when we kissed hello despite me never having been to any of his clubs or heard his radio show. You never forget the ones you coveted so much at some point. I hope I'm a good memory for him too.
Kelly Osbourne has good manners (she was very polite to the waiters) and is very pretty.
Giles Deacon does not look anything like a fashion designer (or maybe he does, Alexander MacQueen looked a bit thuggish too).
Jodie Harsh has good PR as he’s in various bits of press in the same week. Let's put it this way, a week ago I didn't know who he was and now I do know what he eats. Is this knowledge of any use to me? Of course not.
Jane Bruton, the editor of Grazia like all magazine editors looks pretty average despite all the help she can/could get.
Siobhan Fahey still doesn’t look comfortable in her skin and seems to check herself for when to smile or say something. Great dress though, and have I mentioned she’s one of my earliest two degrees? No, I never slept with ugly Kevin Rowland or less ugly and considerably richer Dave Stewart but with a first boyfriend of hers).
June Sarpong looks better with no make up on, just so much fresher and less mugging for the cameras.
Miquita Oliver needs to use deodorant. I didn’t notice but the BF did. Then again with no one smoking in clubs anymore all smells are heightened and those lights were hot.
Pam Hogg always looks amazing from a distance and it takes a little adjusting to see the age coming out from under the make up – wonder if she feels a little like Isabella Blow, ie people benefit from associating themselves with her but has she ever made any real money out of letting them hang out with her? Don’t think so. Maybe being a sort of punk Marianne Faithfull is reward in itself.

I then spoke to the largest (the other side of Barry White) black man in a sequin dress and a favourite performer of the evening and asked him what he does. I was fully expecting to be told he’s a nurse or a sous chef but he said he does this (drag) for a living. Toph can’t believe there’s money in it. Maybe he wants to try?
I run into a familiar face from my past (oops, mixing tenses again, do forgive) , Steve J and I have to ask him what his name is to place him whilst I look at him trying to place me. Can’t be more than five years since I last run into him but memory really is beginning to falter. So many names, so many faces. He tells me who he is and my name then comes onto his lips. Ahhh, always a lovely man, tells me the friend we have in common, Rene’ G. has moved to Toronto two years ago with his wife. Clearly I’m not a good friend of his or I’d know but here really ought to be a middle term to qualify people who are not mere acquaintances but not close friends… Anyway SJ has a label with Patrick Lilley, must check it out. Am very fond of PL though we’re not friends either, but back in the early 80’s he was friends with my first adored boyfriend M. and always seemed please to see him/us. My god he’s been promoting stuff for 25 years, he should get a medal for lasting this long. Sooo tiring. All these young contenders. This time I don’t bother to search for the nod and smile as truly, we’d never then talk about anything. C’est la vie.
The House of ? and House of ? (can't remember names) are pretty entertaining, we do love a costume and there are good voguers. Those were the days, late 80's... The BF who likes a good ogle, has to check with me on several occasions whether 'Is that a man or a woman?' as he needs to be sure before he fantasises that he's lusting after a female and not a bloke with a small Adam's apple.

I forget to say that at the door I got waived in by a lovely blonde who’s friends with an ex friend of mine and whose name has not come to me for the entire evening. I have spent other evenings with this woman, I like her, I can think of the names of other friends of hers (most notably ubiquitous club designer Sean) but not hers. There’s an S in there but it’s not Sharon. Darn, I had bought a ticket after all for Toph and was still trying to pick it up with her kindly pushing me inside. Have not been waved in for a while. Forgot how nice it is not to queue. Super in fact. We were home by 12 o/c. I do love S Rowley but if you play Phil Collins, I have to leave the room. No exceptions can be made.