Friday night: when London Design week is sponsored by Bombay Sapphire gin, you know you’re heading for hangover land.  Luckily, my head suffers far less than most from such assaults on it; but Oh, my knees.  Designer Babe rounded up a band of us, and we tested out new designs along the length of Brick Lane and its environs.  The evening ended on a ( Read more... )

I’m off to a friend’s with a bottle of wine to watch The Apprentice, as another friend volunteered to be on the show. What the fuck? Who’d want to be on a reality TV show that’s some kind of shrine to the worst of capitalism? Ho hum; here’s hoping she manages to maintain some semblance of self-respect.

I’ve been bitten all over by mozzies: I must have been too tasty for my own good on Saturday night. That’ll teach me to wear a backless slip of an outfit when out all night in the countryside. Posh Bird had a big birthday and decided to do it in style: marquee, meal, and music, though music wasn’t the strength of the night. I think she fears she ( Read more... )