Mademoiselle

I saw the new season H&M collection this week, it’s the collection that’s going to hit the stores in August / September and like Liam Gallagher, I’m mad for it. The shapes were mini-Marni-me. I’ve added the Peg leg trousers, the vintage inspired chinoiserie top and the grey duster coat that the PR minx was wearing to my AW08 must-have-it-now shopping list. Actually it’s more of a scroll, it’s longer than an Andrex roll and it’s only May by the way.

I popped into the Karen Millen press day too. I’ve never worn the label before but, actually I quite like the new bits. I want the black mac (he thinks he’s Burberry), and the oversized faux croc, purple bag (he thinks he’s Dolce but he’s not as expensive). There was tailoring worthy of being on the 1st floor of Harvey Nics and the embroidered layered skirt was fabulous enough to make Christopher Kane go insane in the membrane. I’ll definitely be visiting the store come August. In fact I will be camping outside in my new Chanel tent. Alright, made that up, but they should make them….. Dear Karl…

Yesterday I had breakfast with Samantha Cameron (David’s wife). She is the epitome of English style and grace – what a beauty. She was wearing a snug fitting dress by Prada and carried the Smythson ‘IT’ bag the Nancy bag. I really really want one. In fact I want to be her. She drives a scooter like me, oh we are so similar. Not. Sob.

Today I had a breakfast meeting with the PR from D&G Dolce Gabbana at Cecconi’s, I like it there because I can park my Vespa in the garage opposite for only five quid. Meeting ended at 11am and I was happily scootering up Park Lane when quelle horreur I hit some water on the road and fell off my bike onto my head. I lay amongst 4 lanes of traffic feeling very dazed and confused (picture Courtney Love on a bender) whilst the traffic continued to drive around me. Harrumph, nice, what ever happened to the helpful London cabbie? Thank goodness two American old lady tourists came to my rescue as did a lovely tramp who just happened to be sleeping rough in Marble Arch. Mr Tramp wheeled my now broken Vespa across the road whilst the American Grannies escorted my battered limbs and me to the safety of the pavement. The grannies called an ambulance and I was rushed to St Mary’s hospital to have a head scan. As I thought, they found nothing in my head, not even a brain but they did find an old pair of Laboutin’s, I wondered where they had gone. There was no damage to my Giles for New Look dress and no, George Clooney does not work in a hospital in Paddington, but I did check almost all the wards just in case.