Newspaper article The Evening Standard (London, England)

My Weekend

Newspaper article The Evening Standard (London, England)

My Weekend

Article excerpt


MY weekend began in Cigala, the restaurant on Lamb's Conduit Street (it's the new Moro - well, it was 12 months ago). I was celebrating some good news, so I had too many glasses of Cava.

Assuming you are female, the boudoir-red Cigala bar is the best place to drink bubbly in London because it is served in old-fashioned dishes. Your nose gets pinker, the conversation gets ever more inelegant, but what do you care? Glass in hand, you feel like Nancy Mitford or Diana Cooper: clever, witty and not drunk at all.

I ate langoustines and steak with chorizo because, on the recommendation of a friend, I am doing the Jennifer Aniston diet and have said goodbye to my beloved carbohydrates. This will make me as slinky as a spring onion - though it also means no one will want to kiss me for at least six months. (Poor Brad: halitosis is said to be a by-product of the JF regime.) Perhaps this was another reason why I drank more than I meant to: there is nothing more miserable than sitting on your hands while other people dip chunks of fresh bread into green olive oil.

The next morning, my head was throbbing. There was only one thing for it. I had a cup of tea and a hot bath in Dr Hauschka lemon oil - the best cure for a hangover I know ("Ze lemon is taking away ze heat from ze head," as a German naturopath once told me). Then I headed out for a little light retail therapy. I am obsessed with accessories because, unlike clothes, they always fit. Bags, beads, shoes, hats: lead me to them. At Liberty, limbering up for hippy-chic (a good moment for me because I have long hair and those smock tops are so forgiving), I bought a string of turquoise stones handcrafted by Navajo. At Gap, I bought a bag with a plaited handle. And at Top Shop I bought hoop earrings. If only I looked more like Kate Hudson.

After this, I went to my local gym - a tiny, sweaty place in Bow frequented by Graham Norton and, erm, Roy Marsden (you know: he used to play Inspector Dalgleish in the TV adaptions of PD James). …

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