Not this time, though. I fought my way through the crowds, shoving my way towards the banana stand. Hang on….what was all that orange carpet? And the massive posters? And all the photographers? Oh. My. God. Using skillz wot I honed at London Fashion Week, I politely but authoritatively slipped to the front of the crowd (NO TOUCHING!)

No one seemed to know what was happening, twitter was low on info, everyone was cold and damp, but spirits were high. Word was that some of the cast would be heading down, and after grilling the people closest to me, I heard Jeffrey Tambor and David Cross were rumoured. At that moment, I knew I was in it for the long haul. Come on, the girl in the $5000 shirt shaking from cold is gonna miss out on this?

Buster…running

After nearly an hour of shaking violently from the chill and craning my neck to see what was happening, the stars began to appear. Tobias, George Sr, George Michael, Maebe and Buster, all lined up before my very eyes. Seriously, has anyone in that family even SEEN a chicken? I’m not usually such a crazy fangirl, but I was so excited I nearly cried. Some TV shows are just special, and you love them and cherish them, and then Fox cancels them. All the cast seemed lovely, smiling and chatting away, and giving autographs. I got a huge smile from Jeffrey Tambor, which probably made my entire life.

Sorry for the crappy quality of the pics, they were taken on  my phone (SLR sadly perched on my desk in the office). How great does Alia Shawkat look? MARRY ME. Arrested Development is out on Netflix from 26th May, but I think I’m going to be too busy reading Bob Loblaw’s Law Blog and attending Blue Man Group rehearsals to watch it, so let me know what it’s like, ok?

You won’t find any of the boring black numbers on here – instead, I’ve chosen my top 10 favourite looks from the night:

1. Sarah Jessica Parker: just the right amount of fruit loop required for the Met Gala. Usually a great time to wear the bizarre couture creations that would get slated on any normal red carpet, SJP is embracing the spirit of the night. I’m just waiting for the horse jokes to roll in again, thanks to the headpiece…

2. Katy Perry: Usually not a fan of Ms Perry’s contrived and cutesy style, I actually appreciate her adoption of the D&G regal, Italian aesthetic. Especially digging that grey blusher. She looks like a Borgia.

3. Alison Williams: A toss up for me here between Williams and Blake Lively for the obligatory dress with train look. I like the dichotomy of this dress: she’s at once ridiculously covered up AND almost obscenely exposed.

4. Carey Mulligan: Part of me wants to resign this to the ‘boring’ pile, but there’s something about ol’ Mulligan that just means I can’t stop looking at her. It’s so utterly simple, but rather that than Kim Kardashian’s curtain dress. (Not pictured. I wouldn’t do that to you).

5. Sienna Miller: sometimes I get really nostalgic for when Sienna used to be on every ‘best dressed’ list. I miss her SO GODDAMN MUCH. This is too perfect. That’s Cara D to the right of the pic – what do you reckon would happen if they hugged? Ouch.

6. Florence Welch: I debated putting this in. You want to know why? Because it’s my firmly held belief that this is exactly what Florence Welch wears every. single. day. No, really. If you close your eyes and imagine her, this is pretty much the outfit you’ll think of. But why not? She looks ace.

7. Kirsten Dunst: Where have you BEEN Kirsten? I’ve missed you. This dress rivals Anne Hathaway’s in the sideboob stakes but I love it. Sidebooob.

8. Rooney Mara: Rooney Mara is TINY. Tiny tiny tiny. It’s difficult to wear a big dress when you’re small, but she’s got it. I love white lace with a plum lip.

9. Mary Kate Olsen: Might have air punched when I saw this. Absolute vintage MKA. Mental proportions? Check. Fur? Check. Beachy boho hobo hair? Check. Looks a bit like what an old lady would wear to remind herself of glory days, a la Grey Gardens? Check. I would wear the heck out of this thing. uhh that’s the outfit, not MK. Mkay?

10. Kate Bosworth: Oh Bosworth, you absolute smash. Her legs are 900ft long, her forehead is anointed with sweat from a priceless diamond, and her hair is made of the sun. Ok, small chance that I’ve been looking at Met dresses for too long and have lost my mind, but doesn’t she look amazing?

(All images courtesy of Getty)

But awesome job aside, I’ve barely had a minute to sit down and blog. So to fill the gap, here’s a selection of pictures of what I’ve been up to (spoiler alert: mostly eating). To sum up, I did the following: went to an open air screening at London Zoo (more on that soon), ate, went to a hen do, rehearsed for a musical in a gun room, accidentally attended an ‘Ibiza Pizza Party’ in a tiny village pub in Surrey, drank cocktails with pipettes in, wore an oversized cricket jumper, and ate some more. Not pictures are the pheasant impressions I did with friends at the end of the night. Don’t ask.

This particular recipe is for 4 people, but it’s easy to adapt the quantities accordingly.

Pears poached in red wine

4 firm pears, peeled and with stalks in tact
500ml red wine
1 vanilla pod, split
2 star anise
1 cinnamon stick
125g caster sugar
2 tbsp honey
Peel and juice of 1 orange

1. Put all of the ingredients apart from the pears into a saucepan and head until the sugar dissolves.

2. Slice the bottoms off the pears to make sure they stand upright, and place in the saucepan. If you like it, then you should put a lid on it. For 25-30 minutes to be precise, allowing it to simmer.

3. Turn the heat off and let the pears sit in the liquid for at least two hours to fully infuse them with the liquid.

4. When you’re ready to serve, simply plate up the pears, then bring the remaining syrup to a boil. Pour it over the pears and serve with a big scoop of vanilla ice cream. If you’re going commercial, it HAS to be Green & Black’s, which is the very best store bought vanilla ice cream I’ve ever had.

Happy cooking! Coming up soon, a veggie bangers and mash recipe, burger chat, and Ben Ainslie’s boat.

In my last post, I talked about a general restlessness that had descended on me, and how taking a break had been what I needed to refocus a bit. While away, I decided to have a bit of a life clear-out, so this week I’ve been cleaning out my outrageously messy room. I’m generally pretty houseproud, but a lack of storage space and abundance of freebies from my fashion/beauty editing work (I’m not complaining!) left me Confucius-like, yelling at a tide of clothes to stay back.

Clothes to the left of me, clothes to the right of me, and hours later I found myself standing shell-shocked with a variety of huge bags around me. Some were destined for the charity shop, others for the textiles bin, others were tucked away until next Winter, which is probably a good two weeks away, based on my reckoning. I was left with one pile. I called it the ‘adapt or die’ pile. So, look here. I’m bored of most of my clothes, but I’m also poor. The solution? To get sewing, painting, and gluing.

I started with two small projects last weekend, just to ease myself back into it. There’s a danger with DIY that you’ll go too far, customise a bit too enthusiastically, and end up looking like you covered yourself in E6000 glue and rolled around in a habadashery, then Claire’s Accessories, THEN ransacked the wardrobe of that ghastly Kirstie Allsopp. Tread carefully, is what I’m trying to say.

My two projects, then. I picked up a lovely cornflower blue man’s shirt from a charity shop for £3.30, and some non-roll elastic (AMAZING STUFF), and was inspired by Geneva Vanderzeil’s book to create a mini skirt from it. Seriously easy stuff, and perfect for first time sewers. I don’t want to write up the full instructions here, as I don’t think it’s fair to Geneva and her hard work, but I’d encourage you to grab her gorgeous book..Initially I tried the shirt as a dress, as you can see below – something I might explore another time, but it was VERY short. Sorry about the rubbish quality of pics in the post, was without my usual camera.

The second project I can tell you exactly how to do, and it’s the easiest update for jewellery ever. I dug deep into my jewellery box and found a pair of very boring rhinestone earrings. Beyond boring, they looked cheap. A clear crystal rhinestone tends to look dull at night and strange during the day, so here’s what I did: I grabbed some nail varnish. And I painted over the crystals. I used jade and lavender for a colour blocked effect. I did three coats to get a decent coverage, and left them to dry overnight. Easiest thing ever. Bonus tip: my favourite leather jacket had zips that were starting to discolour, so I painted them over with a metallic nail varnish, and it looked brand new. SIMPLE.

I spent two weeks with the fam in St Ives in Cornwall, mainly just eating, reading, walking and cooking, and very occasionally thinking. It was my first holiday in a year, and I desperately needed to take a bit of time out from pressures at home, and come back with a fresh perspective. For me, that’s what a holiday should be for – in a way, a break from yourself and a break from your routines.

I was stagnating a bit before I went away. It was a stressful start to the year, and I went from knowing exactly what I wanted to do to being more or less completely lost in a matter of weeks. Circumstances around me changed and I found it hard to change with them. I’ve been freelance for nearly two years now, and I hit a wall. Projects wrapped up and I suddenly couldn’t bear the thought of having to come up with a slew of new ideas to get going on.

Nearly two years of pressured deadlines, answering emails at 11pm, constantly seeking new clients, projects not coming off…and more than anything, the ALL-ENERGY-ALL-THE-TIME aspect of freelancing. I was exhausted. I was fed up. I lost all motivation and found myself questioning what I wanted to do. I hated writing, didn’t want to do, couldn’t do it, most terrifyingly of all. I couldn’t pick up a pen, couldn’t open an empty Word doc. I’ve been craving photocopiers and office gossip and leaving work at 6 and drawing a line under it. No messy overspill. Defined days. Measured time.

Two weeks away gave me time to reflect on all of those ragged, half-formed thoughts. I was so cross and frustrated with myself. While I was away, I put down my phone(s), zipped up my laptop bag, and just tried to ‘be’ for the two weeks. I read a lot, went for long walks, cooked meals over a period of several hours with a glass of wine in hand. I’ve come back ready to address things properly instead of running away from them. This Monday, I’ve been excited again, keen to work hard, wanting to get things done. I feel a million miles away from the way I did before the holiday, and it’s a relief.

If you’ve been feeling a bit lost or a bit confused, try and take some time away if your circumstances permit it. Get away from social media and the relentless tide of everyday communications. Try and remember who you are and what you’re doing. Step back before you jump in again. What a sappy post – I’m sorry for the fortune cookie wisdom I appear to be spouting, so I’ll wrap up right here. If you’re anything like me and you tend to run away from things, then try running a little further then coming back more prepared.

And if you found that the most saccharine pile of old rubbish, then here are some pretty pictures and photos of food wot I ate to cheer you up. Coming up soon: more recipes, and watch a shirt magically transform into a skirt.

As you might have gathered from my recent recipe posts, such as my veggie burgers, I’m on a bit of a veggie crusade right now. I’m fed up of missing out on certain flavours and techniques in restaurants, instead being offered the standard goat’s cheese tart or mushroom risotto. I’m vegetarian BUT I STILL HAVE TASTEBUDS, GODDAMMIT. Anyway, I fancied a spaghetti dish with a fragrant white wine sauce to emulate a seafood spaghetti dish, so here goes:

Serves 3-6, depending on how hungry you are

Roasted tomatoes

Tomatoes on the vine, roughly 16
Olive oil to drizzle
3 lemon slices
3 garlic cloves
Salt & pepper

Sauce

300ml white wine
2 garlic cloves
1/2 white onion
500ml veg stock
2 bay leaves
Salt & pepper

Assembly

250g spaghetti
Two handfuls baby spinach or rocket leaves
Large handful basil
Cheese, to taste

1. Heat oven to 180°C. Keeping your tomatoes on the vine, place them in foil or a roasting dish. Drizzle with olive oil and sprinkle with salt and pepper. Smash garlic cloves with the handle of a knife and wedge in with the tomatoes, along with the three thick lemon slices. Roast for 30-40 minutes, until the skins start to split (sounds pretty gross, right?)

2. Meanwhile, start your sauce off. Heat a drizzle of olive oil while you finely chop your onion and garlic. Sweat both in the pan until the onion is translucent, then add the wine. Simmer for 5-10 minutes until the sauce begins to reduce down. Add bay leaves and stock, and keep simmering away, tasting occasionally, for about 30 minutes.

3. Cook the spaghetti according to packet instructions – feels like a real cop out writing that in my recipe, but hey ho. Wash spinach or rocket and leave to drain. Stack basil leaves on top of each other and roll up so it looks like you’re going to be up to no good with it, then slice – this will give you ribbons of basil and is called ‘Chiffonade’. Pretty cool, eh?

4. To assemble, drain spaghetti and add it to the pan containing the sauce. Slice off half of the tomatoes and stir them in, preserving the rest on the vine. Add leaves, basil, and finely grate a cheese of your choice and stir it all in, leaving the flavours to marry together on the stove for about 10 minutes. Top with two tomatoes still on the vine on each dish, some more grated cheese, a lemon wedge, and a thick slice of sourdough or crusty bread to mop up flavours.

Bon appetit! Coming up soon, a write up of the Maritime museum in Falmouth, pictures of actual SUN, and more recipes…

I’m currently writing this post from a wonderfully sunny St Ives in Cornwall, but before I go on to boast about the glorious weather, I’m going to rewind to last week, and a cold and faintly snowy London.

Last Thursday, India and I headed up to South Ken to see the event we’d been anticipating for months on end: Foals at the Albert Hall. We last saw them in the grubby, chilly, small Concorde 2 in Brighton, and were fascinated as to how they’d translate to such a different venue. If you’ve never seen the band live, I urge you to get tickets for whatever you can lay your hands on. Foals are phenomenal live, and I say that without the slightest bit of exaggeration.

After a rather pleasing support slot from Efterklang, the laser lighting kicked in, the smoke machine pumped up to full volume, and the band made their way on stage. Most of the set came from their new album, Holy Fire, interspersed with crowd-pleasers such as Total Life Forever and Spanish Sahara. When Foals play, something almost transcendental happens to the audience. I looked around the crowd, seeing people transported by the music, these huge guitar riffs and echoing vocals punching the walls of the Albert Hall.

After about half an hour, India and I grew frustrated at being in a seated area, and our attempts at chair dancing weren’t really cutting it, so we clambered down to the front of the tiered section in a haze of dance-driven urgency. We spent the rest of the gig waving about like idiots, watching the mosh pit from on high, and feeling the waves of sound on our faces. Due to our (over)enthusiasm, we got pulled aside at the end of the gig to give a short interview about Foals for the Albert Hall. After hoarsely repeating the word ‘epic’ several times, we were on our way to Soho.

In Soho, we picked up Frankie, who took us to a new discovery: The Soho Social Club. I almost don’t want to talk about it, because it was so ace that I don’t want anyone else to know it’s there, but what the heck. It’s essentially one room on the corner of a dark, tucked away Soho street, and contains a few small tables and one long banqueting table. The walls are stacked with books and framed black and white photos with a heavy S&M emphasis. The cocktail menu is brief but carefully curated, and the staff charming.

When we got there, Frankie was greeted heartily by an old dear in a fur hat and large earrings who perched, regally, at the very end of the long table. ‘Oh hello love’, she said, ‘it’s been ages since I saw you, hasn’t it?’ They chattered away for a little while, before Frankie turned to us and said she’d never seen the woman before in her life…But I’ve overlooked the very best part of TSSC: the dogs. Yes, dogs. Four squiggly balls of fluff scattered around the room, enjoying the attention of the delighted customers, and I took quite a shine to a sweet French bulldog called Modesty.

From there, we dashed to The Diner for stacked burgers, baskets of fries and Cherry Cokes before crossing the river to the BFI, just in time for my beloved Adam Buxton and the start of BUG. If you’ve never been, BUG is a bi-monthly (last time I checked) showcase for new and interesting music videos, which Adam hosts. Not only is it a fantastic way of discovering new bands, but Adam also reads out YouTube comments on the videos, and gives his own commentary, which is hugely entertaining.

Bit of a skim through Thursday, but I’ll be back soon with posts about Cornwall, and showing off about the sunshine. Ta ra for now.

What are you reading right now?

I picked up On Chesil Beach by Ian McEwan earlier this morning and finished it today (it’s only a novella, I’m not some wunderkind), and I’m rereading Evelyn Waugh’s Vile Bodies. I’ve also just scooped Other People by Martin Amis from the bookshelf, because the cover is hilariously tacky. And I love Martin Amis.

Do you have any idea what you’ll read after you’ve finished this book?

I’d quite like to read something a little more recent. I rarely buy new releases, instead turning to the very well-stocked bookshelves belonging to my parents which are crammed full of dusty classics. That being said, I’ve promised to read Seth Rodin’s Purple Cow, about marketing strategies. I’m keen also to read The Dud Avocado, which is in a similar vein to Nancy Mitford and Dodie Smith. Oh, and I’ve just spotted Death and the Penguin, which a friend gave me to read years ago, and which I think it might finally be time for.

Five books you’ve always wanted to read but have never got round to?

Pretty much every book on my reading list for my English degree. I KID. Of course I read those. Most of them. Ok, here goes:

1. Anything heavy duty and Russian
2. Sophie’s World, which I have on my bookshelf but made me wildly depressed when I attempted to read it aged 12.
3. The Tiger’s Wife by Tea Obreht. I bought it last year but it just perches on my shelf looking so…worthy, and I’m never in the mood for it
4. The Fatal Shore by Robert Hughes, all about the first convicts being taken over to Australia and what their experience was like.
5. Ulysses by James Joyce. I tried, OH GOD, I tried. But I couldn’t hack it. It’s a feat of endurance that I want to achieve one day.

What magazines do you have in your bathroom/lounge right now?

Facetious answer: I don’t keep magazines in either of those rooms. Normal answer: plenty of Vogues, a Lula, probably a Dash, a bumper issue of Pop, various Sunday Times Style magazines, the Royal Society of Literature magazine which I haven’t even taken out of the wrapper yet.

What’s the worst book you ever read?

Tough question. I’ve read some Tom Wolfe which I found utterly repulsive and completely fascinating in equal measure. I’m sure I’ve read some abominations, probably in the ‘chick lit’ category which I tend to steer clear of. OH! Bridget Jones. I hated it with every fibre of my being and yet read the whole thing in a matter of hours at a friend’s house. Ghastly book.

What book is really popular but you really hated?

Oh man. I don’t know, I went through this stage of despising Jane Austen and breaking the heart of my English teacher when I loudly declared my hatred during class. I think Bridget Jones, from above, can also be added to this list. I’m getting cross just thinking about it. Grr, JONES *shakes fist*.

What’s the one book you recommend to everybody?

Ah, god, there’s no way I can choose just one. If you need to sort your life out, read Alain de Botton’s Consolations of Philosophy. If you need to FEEL, read One Day. If you want to be an actor, read What’s My Motivation by Michael Simkins, and hopefully it’ll put you off. And for the love of literature, please read Atonement, which is an entirely perfect book.

What are your three favourite poems?

The Love Song of J Alfred Prufrock, i like your body by e.e.cummings, Porphyria’s Lover by Robert Browning.

Where do you usually get your books?

I steal many from my dad. I also get them from the library, often charity shops or second hand bookshops. I rarely ever get them full price in ‘normal’ shops, and I never, EVER buy them for my iPhone. Kindles are an abomination.

Where do you usually read your books?

Mostly in bed, late at night or early in the morning. Often in the bath, because I like how crinkly it makes the pages. On the train, when I’m feeling smug about what I’m reading.

When you were little, did you have any reading habits?

We used to live in Ascot during the week and travel back to our house in Sussex at the weekends, so I used to read on journeys home. Inevitably this was near the end of the day when the light was fading, so needless to say I thoroughly wrecked my eyes. I also liked to devour books in one go.

What’s the last book you stayed up half the night to read?

Fingersmith by Sarah Waters. It’s a fairly hefty chunk of book, and there’s quite a dramatic turn around the halfway point. I tried putting it down but my brain was in shock, desperately trying to decipher what was going on. I lasted around fifteen minutes before I picked it up again and read through til about 4 or 5 am.

Have you ever ‘faked’ reading a book?

Of course! I did this far, far too much during my English degree. ‘Duh, it’s like a famous quote’ ‘Where from?’ ‘Cliff’s Notes’.

Have you ever bought a book just because you liked the cover?

Oh, I’m positive I have. Fairly recently, I organised my bookshelves into colour order, so that now plays a part in my choice of new books. ‘That looks interesting’, I’ll think, ‘but I’m really looking for something more in a green colour.’ I’m a philistine. There are some fantastic covers of Lolita which I’d like to get my hands on (appropriate turn of phrase?!), and I recently repurchased a newer version of American Psycho to fit with my other neon hued Easton Ellis books.

What was your favourite book as a child?

The standards, Roald Dahl, Ballet Shoes, anything about boarding schools. Oh, and I adored Horrible Histories. OH, and Just William, far and beyond anything else. Just William was my bible. I also liked reading all the Blandings stories, because Lord Emsworth was a hero, and I found the constant talk of ‘fat pig contests’ endlessly charming and hilarious. Kingdom by the Sea was a brilliant war-era novel. And finally, on a different note, there was a book I liked called No Roses for Harry about a little dog in a jumper. Quality stuff.

Which book changed your life?

Lolita, which I read far too early, but which taught me so much about the art of novel writing. Nabokov writes in a way that makes the reader almost begin to encourage Humbert Humbert in his awful plans. He’s a thoroughly compelling villain. It changed my concept of what a good book should be, stuck in my brain and reverberated there long after I’d put it down.
I also read Freud’s ‘Interpretation of Dreams’ at the age of around 11-12, which changed my life in the sense that it made me a precocious little twit. And it probably also caused me to develop some deep rooted psychoses which I’ll no doubt uncover later in life

Who are your top five favourite authors?

You can probably already gather most from my answers, but these, in no particular order:

1. Ian McEwan
2. Bret Easton Ellis
3. P.G. Wodehouse
4. Jonathan Coe
5. Evelyn Waugh

What is your favourite classic book?

I actually love Frankenstein, even though I know it’s not what some might be considered to be a classic book. Despite the Boris Karloff associations many have, the story highlights some eternally relevant themes about what it means to be different, an ‘other’, as well as issues about paternity, responsibility, and what happens if the concept of God is replaced in society. Oh, and it’s got some pretty decent horror too.

Five notable mentions?

1. Thinks…by David Lodge
2. The Secret History by Donna Tartt
3. My Booky Wook by Russell Brand – don’t judge until you’ve read it
4. Patrick O’Brian’s Master and Commander series
5. Breakfast at Tiffany’s by Truman Capote

So what have I been doing with my life, I hear you demand? (Correction: I like to think I hear you demand. You’re probably just thinking about pigeons right now. You philistine.) I’d say in the month since I last posted, I’ve mostly been eating. I went up to St Andrews in February to judge the Alfa Romeo Young Designer Award for Lady M Presents, write up coming shortly. That was an awful lot of aceness. Also, I love Scotland, and I managed to resist doing my famously awful Scottish accent for the entire weekend, AND I didn’t even refer to anyone as the ‘Scotch’, as Stewart Lee is always getting people to do. Or quote any of this video.

The weekend after that, I went to the London outpost of the St Andrews Fashion Show, including dinner at Circus with the winners of the award. Circus is a unique concept: Pan-Asian cuisine served alongside…well, circus acts. And of course, we saw the St Andrews show again. Eating sushi while watching fire-eaters was a pretty fascinating way to spend an evening… On the whole, the food was delicious, the entertainment very absorbing, and we were shown into the venue by a man in a top hat and much more eye makeup than me, which is the way any good night should start.

It was great to see the designs on the catwalk again, and I’m still bowled over at the huge amount of hard work that must have gone into the organising of the show. I skipped out earlyish to get some much needed sleep, and also to eat plum jelly in my hotel room. Yep. That’s how I roll on a Friday night. Jelly roll. The next day, nursing a jelly hangover, I got taken to one of the most delightful restaurants I’ve been to in a very long time, which was The Delaunay, a charming place tucked away just off the strand. Beware the photo of the waffles I had, which can be seen in the pictures below. It has been known to induce fits of jealousy.

Then I went to Sketch, and back to Canteen, and to the wonderful Brasserie Zedel, and I made brunch, and sausage and mash…In fact, I really have been more or less eating non-stop for the last month, and having a rather wonderful time, all sorts of adventures and smiling non-stop, but I’m going to catch up with posts a bit at a time to avoid any essay length blogs. In the meantime, take a look at some pictures, why don’t you? And if you’re wondering where the title of this post comes from, I say firstly to you: get sum edukashun, yeh? And secondly, this.