She is…

She is a vintage ballgown bought in the sale in a charity shop
She is the cold National Express coach leaving Leeds at 8am
She is the long, lean standard lamp lighting the room
She is blue WKD and cider and shots until three
She is the dancefloor
She is exploding, fizzing lavender bath bombs
She is emerging from her room at four in the afternoon
She is the belting karaoke rendition of Dancing Queen

Oops, I did it again

britney oops I did it againAnother day, another Britney-ism. She really does just sum up “life” through the medium of song. We should never forget that.

Anyway, what I have gone and done is re-entered the world of the tax-paying, employed masses. Yes, sometime in the near future I will be oiling the wheels of the corporate machine once more. What all this means is that certain things will have to be put on hold, namely:

    • My career as the nation’s next Nigella. Just as my lemon drizzle muffins were set to take the world by storm.

      My “relaxed” daytime attire.
      Goodbye to going to the shops at lunchtime in an “I heart Guam” T-shirt and Robinson Crusoe-style cut-off trousers. (Sainsbury’s checkout man: “What is Goo-am?”)

      My rise to (near) the top of the Celebdaq charts. Does anyone still play this? I must have missed the boat first time round but have become a bit addicted recently. Also provides a very sound reason for buying trashy magazines and reading gossip sites.

  • The clock’s ticking…I’m off to get some Diamond White.

    Deer are nice

    Nowadays if we’re looking for entertainment we pen some people who were once famous in an enclosure then sit back and watch their painful demise. We call it Big Brother.

    Back in 1637, before Channel 4 existed, Charles II penned 2,000 deer in a park surrounded by an eight-mile-long wall so he could ride around on a horse and hunt them for fun. We call it Richmond Park.

    Perhaps unlike BB, the deer have endured and you can still see them today. They’re kinda nice. Posing as a tourist, I took some photos with my phone.
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    In praise of the graphic novel

    bovery.jpgHave you ever read a graphic novel? Don’t blush, it’s nothing to be embarrassed about – not graphic in that sense but like a grown-ups’ comic book. There are some really amazing ones and I should know. I’ve read two and therefore count myself a world authority.

    Contrary to popular assumption, neither was about crazed sci-fi worlds or fantasy warlords. Fun Home is a funny-but-sad family memoir and Gemma Bovery is a dramatic whodunnit but also a really wry take on Brits abroad. Both have great drawings that make me wish I too could control a pencil. Both are also deeply interwoven with literary references and allusions – almost like the authors are eager to show their credentials as “proper” writers. But, no need to apologise for the format. It’s great. Try one.

    The truth about hens

    Some people say hen nights are just an opportunity for girls to get together, drink lots, dress up and behave irresponsibly. The naysayers call them another symptom of “boozed-up Britain,” “ladette culture” and general idiocy.

    What do they know. I was at a hen weekend last year that brought together some brilliant, talented people and gave us all an opportunity to not only debate topical issues but also to gel in a more creative, freeform sense. Thank goodness I had the presence of mind to grab a video camera and capture the moment:

    An editor to admire

    olay.jpegAs an editor, I always keep an eye out for inspirational figures in the media. People doing something different and eye-catching. There are some amazing writers and editors out there and I take every chance I get to enjoy their work in books, magazines, newspapers, blogs and websites.

    But if there’s one editor out there that’s really left an impression on me, it’s Nadine Baggot of Olay Regenerist fame. Have you seen her advert? See how she writes in her notepad! See how she points at her interviewee! See how she says long words (“pentapeptides!”). See how her face never, ever moves!

    This could be me one day. I dare to dream. But what I need first is a celebrity beauty product without the celebrity price tag. Ah well, baby lotion it is.