Wednesday, 9 June 2010


Please excuse my two days of silence. My world has been a flurry of celebrities, style, pampering and parties thanks to the GLAMOUR Women of the Year Awards, which finally happened last night. As I write, my eyes are heavy (and probably still smudged with eyeliner) and my hangover is raging, but I had to spill some of last night's thrills.
It all started with a St Tropez spray tan on Monday, then a manicure (Chanel's Beige Or), blow dry (tousled and untamed) and a visit by a my make-up artist pal Kit (smoky eye, cerise lip) on Tuesday. The beautifying was wedged between meetings, a rehearsal with our host James Corden (a hour late, flustered, but adorable as ever) and a trip to a boutique hotel to welcome Avatar star Zoe Saldana to London.
I opted to indulge the Marilyn side of my style with a strapless black number with a nude chiffon panel (surprisingly from COS). Seriously snug, it showed off both cleavage and curves and its cunning hourglass shaped panel was a serious figure fixer. I paired it with Giuseppe Zanotti heels, a nude snakeskin clutch and a cuff by Dannijo. I wish I could show you the end result but chaperoning Zoe S meant that I was too busy batting off paparazzi to pose for my own pics so tragically I don't have any snaps to share. It's not the end of the world - she was gorgeous (and far more photogenic than me). At her hotel, I helped her struggle into a Vionnet black lace number, without ruffling the Heidi braids pinned to her head (for the record she's long limbed and perfect skinned - grr). We gossiped about our boyfriends in the limo and by the time we arrived I actually felt like a mother hen when she was thrusted wide-eyed and Bambi-legged in front of the flashing cameras. We downed drinks together (her: red wine, me: champagne), then I dashed off to my own seat for the awards show. I sat next to the adorably geeky Simon Bird from the Inbetweeners and uber chic Naomie Harris. Together we got excitable about Cheryl Cole (tiny with big hair, like a beautiful glittering sparrow), flustered by Jason Lewis (a hot American with a sense of humour - who'd have thought it?!) and developed crushes on the hilariously hip Anna Kendrick (who said she wanted to be BFF with Florence Welch if only she wasn't so tall!).
During dinner I attempted to work the room but it's not so easy to air kiss and eat chocolate & cherry knickerbocker glory simultaneously. Afterwards I flitted between Tinie Tempah (60s slick in thick specs and a velvet suit), boxer David Haye, D&G model David Gandy (we kissed a few years back, now he doesn't even recognise me!), Lily Allen, Fearne Cotton, Dizzee Rascal, a newly pregnant Rachel Stevens (tiny bump) and new mum Denise Van Outen (five week old baby and no bump!). I queued for the loo and swapped banter with Billie Piper and helped Diana Vickers blot champagne out of her dress.
At 1.30am we hit Bungalow 8 along with Pixie Geldof et al and danced until our feet throbbed. Home by 3.30am, a round of toast, a pint of water and I crashed into bed while listening to the birds sing. Good times. Now I have a year to recover...

1 comment:

  1. sarah this is a great read, you're a terrific writer!