On Saturday evening I did something that was a first for me – I attended two birthday parties in one evening. First up, after a mad dash to the bookstore to buy presents, was dinner at Sarastro in Covent Garden.
This place is absolutely manic. A constant influx of people, waiters on speed, loud opera music and an interior by Lawrence Llewelyn-Bowen on decor-enhancement drugs (“psst… wanna buy some Rococo?”).
Our table was right in the middle of everything, which was a mixed blessing at times. At one point I came close to a full-on “kickmyfuckingchairagainandyoudie” freak-out, but it’s hard to remain angry in such a good-natured environment with a crowd of friends.
Around 10pm I reluctantly left the restaurant and headed off to the second party – a fancy dress come-as-a-fictional-character affair in North London.
With the prior dinner engagement it wasn’t possible for me to wear the planned Mickey Mouse costume (yeah, right), so I had settled on a black suit with a white shirt. I thought that this would be reasonable for dinner and then if anyone made an issue of it at the party I would say I was James Bond, or a Reservoir Dog, or indeed any one of tens of black and white film stars.
My pretension was utterly deflated by the innocent, guile-less comment of one of the hostess’ friends: “So… are you in costume, or do you always dress like that?”
In the taxi on the way home I played around with night-time digital photography. If pictures of delicate little squiggles are your thing, leave a comment and I’ll consider putting them in the gallery. This is one of the most robust shots, a petrol station just off the South Circular road.
Scorpio Rising
This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.
Oh come on, they’re not really fictional. The man looks suspiciously like a very real troubled-diva, but who are the women fawning over him?
Squiggles? If you must. If you think it’s art. But I might start loading up more ‘fuzzy taken from a train so no flash so slow exposure’ pictures.
Mind you, that’s a pretty pathetic threat. You always have the option of the off button.
Doh!
Fashion hints
First Bridget said it, then Stuart. It must be true. Although, when I went shopping three weeks ago, maroon and
The one on the left is shady-diva and the one on the right is frizzy-diva. Both clearly attempting to preserve their anonymity
Can I just say that you may call me frizzy diva, Stuart, but I’m pretty sure that I’m curly diva. Or ringletty diva. Or I should be, the amount I spend on hair-care products.
Ah. This is one of those female “subtle distinction” things, isn’t it? I take it frizzy is bad then?
Having seen my, ahem, “hairstyle”, you’ll understand why styling detail is lost on me.
Frizzy is bad, you bad, bad boy. Never come onto a curly haired woman with the “I love your frizzy hair” routine; it won’t work, children. Just fyi.
And I feel duty bound to finish your post heading for you: I have Scorpio rising.. in the House of Fraser. The old one’s are the best ones, eh? (Or maybe I just keep making the one gag over and over again?)
I’m also curlydiva though, so I don’t think that distinction works. And no, I’m not employed by sasha to hold her chin up for her when the stresses of another birthday all get too much.
(though maybe I should be)
Oh, and abstract squiggles work for me. I liked that effect on my sunglasses on your other photo — that was neat.
The Nottingham photos are excellent. I’ve been there loads, but they provide a totally different take on the city.
Squiggly light photos work for me too. I was lucky enough to go to Las Vegas and ended up with lots of pics of this ilk. I call them ‘arty’; my friends called them ‘blurred’!
Stuart, the Nottingham photos are excellent. Really, really, REALLY good. And I’ve always had a thing for squiggly late-night no-flash pics. Easy to do, but the results are always surprising.
Thanks guys. I have no critical distance from them, to me they’re just… Nottingham. But everyone is being very complimentary, so I guess I must have done something right