See, I told you it was scary. That pic above was taken just before we ducked into The Bricklayers Arms to get even drunker than we already were. The Bricklayers was full of Johnny Borrell looky-likeys and there was Darren and I sitting in the corner looking like a fat version of The Pet Shop Boys. Before that we'd been to a Vietnamese restaurant and before that we'd drank to the health of the East End freaks and fags in the brilliant George and Dragon. Our three nights at the Hoxton Hotel was nice. Good job we were on the fourth floor as the trendy bar and bistro on the ground floor was very popular with movers and shakers and wankers. Michael Clark at the Barbican was ace. The final portion of the three part Stravinsky project used a full orchestra, 4 opera singers and a 40 voice choir on stage while the dancers played out the Russian peasant wedding rituals as seen through Mr Clark's punk-rock eyes and it was brilliant. And all the papers said so.
On saturday we went shopping on Oxford Street. I know! Madness! We had lunch in Selfridges and bumped into Shabnam from this years Big Brother (she was wearing a dress she wore on the show so I guess the money's not rolling in). We fingered the McQueen stuff in the designers lounge but then scuttled next door to Marks and Spencers and bought a few winter woolies (I can have 17 M&S jumpers for the price of 1 Alaxander McQueen sweater). On Sunday we bimbled around Spitalfields and Brick Lane (the new Rough Trade shop is very impressive) then had dinner at a Turkish restaurant in Islington and went to see Eastern Promises which was very good (lots of blood and a few glimpses of Viggo Mortensens cock). Sleb spots for the weekend: Ulrika Johnson, David Quantick, Gilbert & George and that ex-editor of the Daily Sport who now appears on sports chat shows and is quite sexy in a black haired boy from Bolton way.