look, honestly, hold on

i don't care about the nme awards (below).
forget katie grand. (interviewed very nicely in ES this evening. KG is well good.)
all my being a celebrity stylist dreams have just come true.
click here.

honest guv, it was an accident

that i ended up watching the end of the nme awards tonight. remember kids: you're only as rock 'n' roll as your hair is messy, so get scruffing up those mops or no one's ever gonna want to talk to you.

hmmm
the winners: lauren laverne was the only lady 'nominated' for an award - in the respectable category of radio show, as it happens, but the only female winner was actually Madonna for Sexiest Female, which, let's face it, even the NME couldn't have let Pete Doherty or the Arctic Monkeys win. Um. I guess no one heard Madonna's album then, cos like, sexiest female? Uhhhhhh like, was that a really halfarsed attempt to get her to turn up? how embarrassing. continue reading.

the finale: yes the awards formally known as the brats are still pedalling the 'godlike genius' trophy, which might be relevant if your idea of god resembles a vacant-eyed, northern primate that wouldn't sound like it could sing if someone added an echo equivalent of the turnbine room at the tate modern to the noise emitted from its mouthhole. words cannot express the excruciatingness of that man. mine certainly can't. and how can the ipc marketing team think it's a good idea to put conor 'conman' mcnicholas on the small screen?? give me mariah carey any day.

what was i going to say? oh yeah - madonna: sexiest female. ian brown: godlike genius.

tokengirl has left the building.

look at them go!

great news on the pamflet front...
issues one & two will soon be on sale exclusively in tatty devine's two london branches.
publication date for issue three should be confirmed within a nailbiting next-few-days.

LIGHTS! CAMERA! ANNA!

last night saw some serious pink carpet posing when the lovelife crew found themselves just a designer dress away from the (H)ell(e) style awards at the Truman Brewery on London's trendy Brick Lane.

rolls royces (?) lined the cobbled street, pulled up alongside minicab drivers and stolen bicyclists.

here we are, forever tiptoeing around the action, eavsdropping on 'music sounds better with you', shivering in the damp chill of london's once cutting edge, now blunt east end. on the outside looking in but for how long?

I don't know what more to ask for/i was just given one wish

TIGA REPORT
COMING SOON

WATCH THIS SPACE

TONIGHTatTHEOLDBLUELAST

come out 2nite!

whatever hosted by hotelmotel at the old blue last

i'm on at 9.45 - dance me in baby!

a novice writes: My First Fashion Party

pamflet was out on the town last night, representing at London Fashion Week, our dear country's impoverised, slightly desperate but jolly good fun date in the fashion calendar.

the venue was sketch, the unturndownable location of choice for any self-respecting down with it london girl. sketch rules. it's beautiful. cant remember who the designers we were who we were meant to be celebrating, but that was the least of our worries. the invitations were circular wafers, bearing an uncanny resemblance to the holy body of our saviour/communion. great idea. we worship at fashion's altar, etc. one complaint: free booze lasted around 7 minutes, which meant one glass of wine each, but this is London Fashion Week after all...

ms brightside

last night i had a lovely pre-valentine's evening with kate and anna from shimura curves for HAPPY VIOLENTINE. there was indie. there was motown. there was stereolab. it was all very good. and they will be back, maybe next time as a four piece...

citizen girl

for the past 3 and a half years i have been trying to be/become a useful member of great britain's economy. having been fed the myth that a prestigious (puke) university education would improve my employment prospects i now find myself in the unenviable position of still owing more than i could even hope to earn in a year.
OH WOE IS ME!
woe is me for happening to enter high education within the 7 year window between the labour government introducing fees and loans and the reinstatement of a grant system.
woe is me for embarking upon a ridiculous course of (failed) academia installing in me a sense of entitlement so profound that i don't even believe having a sense of entitlement is my own fault, but somebody else's for putting it there.

so what could have brought on this brooding and unholy exposition?

the little white letter on the doormat this morning. not a fragrant red billet-doux, but a standard economy envelope. yes i was expecting it - after all, the same thing has happened at least twelve times in the past two years.

is it really such a bad thing to be so misfitting and unemployable that no business can slot you into their moneymaking enterprise? especially when you know they're hardly going to pay you anyway? which is at least half the point of working in the first place.

but i still have to face the fact again and again that i'm not the best person for the job and never will be. if anyone wants a freelance wotnot, you know where to come...

here kitty kitty kitty

i found out over the weekend that even chief diva and all-round inspiration MISS KITTIN, perfect that she is, occasionally suffers from the odd TECHNICAL DIFFICULTY. several of which have been documented on her new 'live' sesh from afternoon sonar 2005. i wasn't there for real, but i was at the event's 2003 counterpart, when kittin played an intense, revolutionary set, based on her radio caroline mix.

what makes her djing more than just record spinning is the vocals she adds to the records she plays, enhancing and reinterpreting everything from her own recordings to aphex twin's windowlicker... this is really bloody difficult, as she admits in the cd's sleevenotes, hence 'technical difficulties', but it makes her oh-so-special live when she gets it bang-on right as grazia would say.

PLAN B FEB/MAR ISSUE OUT NOW

...featuring fashion by Pamflet: here and here.

baa baa black sheep

i find myself this morning fighting the urge to run out of the office and down to oxford street to kit myself out in the HOT but cold outfit of the moment. That would be the black alice band, paul smith shades, classic trenchcoat, black tee and skinny trews that kate moss has been pictured wearing on her whirlwind london visit this week. have to force self NOT to be taken in by this 'casual crim chic'. for a start a black alice band would be rendered pointless in my darkish hair, a cotton trench ain't gonna keep me warm when the chaffeur's not waiting for me outside and the sun really isn't shining, so i'm not about to start crusing tubes with shades on.

I AM STRONG WOMAN. no kate-aping for me. maybe i get a white alice band?

does anyone believe this story??

i didn't think i'd live to see this day...

smash hits goes the same way as number one, just seventeen and, er, big!