Black Angel

March 29, 2010 § Leave a comment


Candy J

March 29, 2010 § Leave a comment

Have spent the evening hanging out telling stories with Jack, Mavi and Matthew with Jack taking notes as my official biographer: LOLZ.

For some reason the conversation swung from Gucci boots to Emo porn and finally to my memory of DJ Fat Tony playing Candy J at The Cafe de Paris.

Cafe de Paris had or has 2 staircases descending from the top floor straight down to the dance-floor but on the opposite side of the DJ booth. Tony would start this record and we would see how long it would take the doormen to realise just how filthy the lyrics are and head towards us, pushing through the upstairs bar, down a full stair-case, across the dancing crowd to demand that he play something else….

As Candy J sings it… N E X T !

Talking To People You Don’t Know

March 28, 2010 § 2 Comments

I have a habit of striking up conversations with people I think that I know but actually don’t.

A classic example of this was in Paris when Bella Freud was showing her 1st short film Strap Hanging at a very swanky art gallery during couture week. Seeing as Bella had bagged John Malkovich to direct her 3 min skit the place was quite A list a fact that by the end of the evening and quite a few cocktails on an empty stomach I’d forgotten.

Bella and I had an insane month: the film was shot in 2 days, edited in 3, we then headed to NY to show it during fashion week, followed head-long into showing it at London fashion week and finally arrived dazed in Paris.

At Thaddaeus Ropac’s gallery I see an older man in a flat cap heading straight for me: phew… someone I know! The place is packed so I’m almost dragging him through ‘HOW ARE YOU? AND HOW COME YOU ARE HERE?’ I shout over the film thinking that he’s a friend of my Father’s. He says that he’s good and was actually at the gallery to buy some Richard Prince. He then asks about the film and tells me that he’s ‘shot a few’ and laughs.

And then the penny drops.

OK … so if there was a film of my life I’d be played by Hugh Grant as I’m now turning into a bumbling inarticulate public school oaf.

‘Oh’ says myself played by Hugh Grant gulping words ‘I don’t know you do I?’

He replies ‘No ma’am’

And why would that be?

‘Because’ dear God I am almost dying on the spot ‘you are Dennis Hopper…’

Later there is a dinner, being the assistant I’m put on a table near the stairs far away from the A crowd which is fine by me as Christian Louboutin’s lovely partner has been placed there too.

I plonk myself between him and a perfect old lady who I manage to amuse with my daft stories and posh girl foul language and who pats me a lot like a small child.

By the time pudding arrives there is a muttering of excitement at the top table: it’s Mr Hopper again who says his hellos and then heads straight for our Z list table sits down and chats some more.

Talk at the top table ‘is just how you know Dennis Hopper’ says Bella in the taxi home.

The next day we meet the former Mrs Ferry who is rowing on the phone about the price of chandeliers. At 34 grand I’m kind of with Mr F on this one but say nothing. Having been beaten into submission Mrs F does what any normal wife would do: take out your frustration in Dior.

As we walk in I am hugged by the perfect old lady who is standing next to a very large table covered in tea cups and figurines.

My stock question of ‘what are you doing here?’ is replied with a laugh and ‘sweet child… I work for Dior, I go to Portobello and buy erm how you say… shitty little knickknacks and they sell them here… it’s nice no?’.

My foul mouth is contagious I realise but the fact that she’s used the word ‘shitty’ makes us both giggle.

By the time we leave Bella tells me that Mrs F left Dior empty-handed because ‘all she could focus on was the fact that you were talking to Mrs Yul Brynner’.

Coffee anyone?

We head to a cafe to eat chips and drink strong black stuff as my hangover is beyond. Bella is busy on her mobile phone and so misses me walking straight into Mr Hopper again ‘are you stalking me young lady?’ He introduces me to Harvey Kietel and then they walk off leaving me standing with my gob open.

‘Who was THAT?’ asks Bella

You don’t want to know…..

January 13th 1968

March 28, 2010 § Leave a comment

Last night I watched Walk The Line and right at the end Mr Cash tells his record managment that he wants to record a live album in Prison ‘See you on January 13th…’

Say what?

So… on the day I was born, this piece of musical history was being made:

I found out about Johnny Cash’s music via Russ Abbott, a prime-time Saturday TV slot comedian who sang under the name Ready Cash… well a girl’s gotta start somewhere. I’d tried to find a clip of it but none exist.

Probably for the best….

P P Product Placement….

March 28, 2010 § Leave a comment

Thanks to Ponystep’s Richard Mortimer for posting this…

It’s LA LA LA LA LAAAAA LOLZ (to the tune of Bad Romance):

Thank You The 2 O’s…

March 27, 2010 § Leave a comment

That’s Ozon and Oliver xxxx

The Noah Skull Breton and Knit Lace Ratus Ratus are available to buy from the SIBLING ON-LINE STORE!!


March 27, 2010 § Leave a comment

I have not managed to get out of my night gown all day. Although I’m kidding myself that it’s kind of glamorous (seeing as the gown is full length and I am trailing a Showroom Dummies for Mulberry cashmere blanket around my shoulders like Dave Gahan as a king in the Enjoy The Silence video) I’m relishing the fact that it is actually quite disgraceful and verging on the pikey.

On Thursday night I was booked to DJ at the opening of a new French run and owned restaurant in South Kensington called Bistro K which was a hoot and by 11pm everyone was pulling out some serious tango moves. I was congratulated for being able to keep a ‘difficult and mixed ages crowd’ happy until beyond my booked time. I have my previously mentioned love of Euro Trash Pop to thank for that. And Guy, my regular DJ partner who has filled in the gaps in my knowledge where needed… sometimes just from me humming.

Note to self: I must remember to ask for higher tables to DJ from in future: 4″ heels plus 5ft 10″ plus low table = stooping and back ache. Thanks God my idea to wear strapless was short-lived…! So, perhaps I should only pump in a pump?

Talking of which I DJed at Pump and that too was a laugh-until-crying night of fun.

Last night’s final DJ round was with Anarchic Female: Jack Sunnucks where we danced to something very jolly from Austin Powers plus quite a lot of Riot Girl fodder.

Today I’m exhausted and I think through laughing too much.

Some gems from the past few days:

Where Am I?

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