Author Archives: ameliaflorencesimmons

I’m in Essex girl….Part One

Posted in Adventures, Girl About Town by

….well, Harwich, actually. Which is on the Essex/Suffolk border. But that’s not quite as catchy, is it?

Anyway, after my delightful friend Sean trecked all the way down from said sea port town for my birthay party back in January, he issued us with an invitation to come up and see him (he probably added ‘make me smiiiiile’, being the musical theatre performer that he is.) It took us a shoddy amount of time organising – over four months to be precise – but new jobs and MBAs and adulthood got in the way. Anyway, the bout of long weekends we were blessed with in May seemed like the perfect solution.

And so it was that on a sunny afternoon, I piled into my friend Nanna’s little car with inordinate amounts of shopping bags and two VERY glittery Lola’s Cupcakes for sustenance. We slipped on a little bit of ‘Slammin’ & Jammin’ (Nanna is nothing if not a BRILLIANT CD namer) and off we steamed.

Now, before I tell you what happened next, I must explain a little something. Before ‘Made in Chelsea’ came into my life, I was something of an avid ‘The Only Way is Essex’ viewer. I know, they were unenlightened times – but I had yet to be introduced to MiC, where the pale skins, white Blackberries, copious amounts of fur and friends with silly names made me feel infinitely more at home…Anyway, Nanna and I were delighted to find out that with a little tweaking, our journey to take us right through the Towie Motherland – Brentwood.

Feeling a bit like bold explorers crossing into a brave new world, we ventured into the town. Practically quivering with excitement, and with Kelis’ ‘Bossy’ blaring out of the speakers (our travel anthem of choice), we peered out of the car, looking for any perma-tanned pneumatic women, and their Ken doll counterparts. An old woman eating a sandwich on a bench, a bunch of 10 year olds, and some perfectly respectable people was what our eyes did in fact alight on…

Still, we were bubbling over with excitement, and doing our very own brand of ‘car dancing’ (pointy arm, pointy arm, wiggle, double dream hands), we shrieked with excitement as we pulled up round the back of Sugar Hut (as I’m sure all the worthiest Brentwoodians have), and proceeded to take photos in the middle of the road, nearly killing ourselves in the process. I bought some fake eyelashes, we cranked up ‘Bossy’ again, and then it was time to get back on the road and head to our real destination.

As the countryside leveled out, you couldn’t have had a greater contrast. Broad skies and yellow fields suddenly surrounded us, and soon we were winding our way into Harwich itself. After a slight technical hitch, whereby we drove past the same group of teens misspending their youths at least FOUR TIMES, much to their amusement, we finally reached the most divine little cobbled street, all tucked away.
We eventually located what we assume was the right house (I knocked on the door and then ran back into the car, we were welcomed into Sean’s house, the most incredible converted Tudor pub. The place had a wonderful atmosphere, and after a brief pause spent gawping at the bottle of champers Sean had been given by Cameron Mackintosh, admiring his well stocked kitchen (this blog is a euphemism free zone, please remember), and reapplying our lipstick we headed out for a drink. Sean seemingly knew everyone – and no one seemed especially surprised to see him ushering two young blonde girls around. We sampled some sort of Polish martini; sadly eschewing the Cosmopolitan, the description of which bore the legend ‘Sex in the City (sic) comes to Harwich!’.
After a delicious supper cooked for us by Sean, and copious amounts of champagne, we embarked on what passed for the local disco. ‘The Stingray’ is the local to end all locals. Teenagers breathed the same stale air as Harwich’s elders; framed pictures of ships hung on the walls, and you could get a glass of wine with an awful lot of change from a fiver. Unfortunately, much of the evening is a blur to me, but I do remember dancing with my shoes off, executing a wobbly cartwheel in the middle of the dancefloor, watching Sean pirouette gracefully, and finally gawping openly as a dead ringer for ‘Nessa’ from ‘Gavin & Stacey’ copped off with not one, but TWO not-ostensibly-disgusting young men.
I woke up early the next morning, breakfasted on a  leftover Lola’s Cupcake, and marched off for a two hour seaside walk. By this point, I was firmly in love with Harwich. But the best was yet to come. Part two on the way…

With warmth from the sun, and visions of what they want…

Posted in Adventures, Girl About Town by

I’m sitting here, facing a blank page, as Saturday morning dribbles away into Saturday afternoon, just me and my blog. Part of the reason I’ve made endless excuses and avoided the world of hyperspace is that I felt the pressure of writing something GOOD. I’ve had so many lovely and encouraging comments about my writing, and this blog, that I didn’t want to jot down anything half-hearted. But, being afraid of not being good doth not a writer make (as any Guardian journalist will tell you….oh yes I did.) Often, writing is about is just about consistency, of just sitting down and blocking something out.

So, in an attempt to get up to date, I’m going to have to do a bit of Doctor Who worthy time travelling. Let’s start with April, shall we?

Someday my prince will come…

Since my birthday in January, I’ve developed a taste for hostessing. As a result of this, I promised (threatened) to hold a Royal Wedding party. And just as well – I got a bit fed up of all the wedding-bashing that led up to the event itself. While I may find sarcasm funny, cynicism isn’t really a word in my vocabulary. Thus it was that, on the morning of the 29th April, a gaggle of friends descended on my house – some so early that they caught me with my rollers in…oops!

We were terrifically lucky with the weather. After a rainy week, we were able to take the party outside. I’ve never done anything like that before, and it was pretty marv – we provided our own commentaries for the ceremony, my friend Colin played The Sex Pistols over the Beeb’s coverage; my friend Laura followed the entire thing on Twitter and stood up for Jerusalem, and we almost all got terrifically drunk on my Earl Grey infused vodka.

Foodwise I had a lot of help from friends with this one, but for my part, I made Nigella’s chocolate and lime cake with margarita cream, my usual raspberry meringues (ooh err), various puff pastry bits, a strawberries and cream cake, and finally a lustre dusted mini-wedding cake. I find cake decorating an exhilarating activity, because I never plan. I just start icing and frosting and glittering and cutting and carving and pasting….and at least five times, I say to myself ‘it looks bloody atrocious’. Most of my cakes, in fact, end up looking the way they do because I’ve had to endlessly correct what I’ve just messed up.
This one was scary territory. There’s little room for failure when you’re working with ultra thin white Royal Icing, and I did a fair amount of Frankensteining on it. Inside was lemon curd and fresh strawberries, and outside I added gold lustre dust, butterflies, little gold hearts….I don’t think it turned out too hideously.
The biggest cause for concern was not just the lack of bunting – I never believed I’d see the day when every shop I went to in Tunbridge Wells sorrowfully informed me ‘I’m afraid we’re all out of the stuff’ – but what I was going to wear. After my birthday party dress, which belonged more on a cake stand than on me if we judge it on the meringue-o-meter, I had a reputation to live up to. A reputation for ridiculousness, that is. I scoured the length and breadth of the country (well, Oxford Street), and came up with nothing. I’ll touch on this more later, but the high street is rapidly becoming a no-go area for me. I’m thoroughly sick of cheap fabrics, shoddy workmanship, and garments that have the longevity of a doily in a snowstorm. I’ll be blogging about this particular issue soon enough, but let’s just leave it there for now, because I start getting angry. Before I get my stiletto heels out…
So there I was, tainted with the garb of Topshop, the reek of Urban Outfitters, the grasp of French Connection; smack bang in the middle of a sartorial/existential crisis, and then I found it. Like an oasis in a desert, like Root Boost to a flat haired girl, like…well, Wills to Kate…Love Is Boutique. This little haven of vintage/hardly worn had been tucked away on Church Road in Tunbridge Wells for a fair amount of time, and yet I’d neglected it, like a….ok, enough of dodgy analogies, I promise. Again, this will be fodder for a more ephemeral blog in the near future, but for now let me just say – I spotted it, in the window. It was just below calf length, a vision in lace, nipped in by a silky sash…and the minute our eyes met (eyes and hooks, in the case of the dress), it was true love.
Reader, in all the years of going to Topshop, I had NEVER felt like this about a dress.
So, togged up and with tea infused vodka in one hand, the party got underway. The ceremony was lovely, Kate’s dress was beautiful – but gosh, didn’t Pippa look ever so slightly better – Jerusalem was rousing (wasn’t it, Laura), and bunting or not bunting, I had a bloody marvellous time.
xoxo

Crikey on a bikey….

Posted in Uncategorized by

Oh look! What did I promise to do? Keep up with this blog, and keep doing projects. What did I say I wouldn’t do? Just tail off the minute I got busy. And this is exactly what I’ve done. Three weeks into my lovely new job, and I’ve done bugger all for this blog, and in turn, for anyone else.

So, as next week’ll be my fourth week of settling in, I think that’s perfectly enough time to be thinking about myself, so next weekend I’ll be making a concerted effort to get back on the blog. I’ll keep you posted!

Project #004 Start being charitable

Posted in Challenges by

Project #003 sadly postponed due to weather (will be looking at completing it this weekend), I started to think about what else I wanted to do this year. Every year, I feel that nagging voice saying ‘you really should try and do something charitable’. Every year, I fully intend to, and fail. There is NO GOOD EXCUSE for this. Literally none. Most of last year, for example, I had a substantial wage coming in, and pretty much no outgoings. Plus spare time! And yet I did nothing for anyone else, except myself. My version of doing something for someone else was just buying them an outlandish present. Nice enough stuff, and I certainly enjoyed it, and will continue to do it, but not exactly Mother Theresa-ville, is it?

I’ve called this project ‘start being charitable’, as I don’t think ‘being charitable’ is something you can, or in fact should, be able to just pop on your ‘to do’ list, and tick off after a week. I just want to mark the beginning of this as an ongoing project. Basically, to start opening my eyes and pricking up my ears to actually doing something for someone else.

As I posted on an update, I’ve signed up for Race for Life. While people keep telling me it’s ‘only 5k’, they haven’t seen me running. This for me is a HUGE distance. I am not at all a fit person, so I want to do it properly and actually be able to do something apart from wheezing around in a tracksuit like Vicky Pollard (ooooh, how achingly topical I am….Vicky Pollard references? I need to wake up in 2011.) So, that’s a pretty big deal for me. I’ve already pimped this out, but my sponsoring site is:

http://www.raceforlifesponsorme.org/ameliasimmons1601

Please sponsor me. I chose Race for Life for a reason, and that reason is that not only have I lost so many people to cancer, but I think you’d be very hard pressed to pluck anyone off the street who HADN’T been affected by it. I’ll keep you updated with my progress.

The other thing that I’ve just done was of a different ilk (brilliant word.) If you’re worried about not having the time/energy/Bob Geldof hair/feet for doing any running, then you can take a different tack. Tack, ilk, any word that ends in ‘k’, really. When I was passing by a TK Maxx in Guildford t’other day, a big poster caught my eye. Vivienne Westwood (plus husband, standard), and Sienna Miller, all dressed up in typical 1600s meets 2060 style, wearing these absolutely ace t shirts for Comic Relief. Shakespeare with a red nose, a classic Westwood punk rocker, a Hogarth print (The Laughing Audience), a French Revolution lady holding up a mask with two carefully positioned red noses in a certain place, and best of all, the two great idols of my youth – Blackadder and Queenie from the second series of…well, Blackadder. Both with red noses.

Now, after my absolute joy that Blackadder was finally getting the sartorial recognition it has always deserved had subsided, I started looking at the details. Most t shirts were priced at £9.99, with ‘at least £5’ going to Comic Relief. Now, anyone who has previous bought something for a charitable cause will know that £5 is a pretty substantial portion being donated. Not only that, but they’re 100% Fairtrade certified cotton. Those priced at £14.99 have £7 going to Comic Relief. And designed by Vivienne Westwood!! When will you ever get a chance to buy a piece of Viv for under a tenner?!

The only problem you’ll have is choosing honestly. This is why the Hogarth, Blackadder and French Rev sexy lady are all winging their way to me as we speak, and I may go back for Billy Shakespeare, and Queenie. Go on, you absolutely WILL NOT regret buying one.

 http://www.tkmaxx.com/page/tshirts

Hope to see you all around with a big beardy Edmund face emblazoned on your top….. xxx

***Valentine’s Day***

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Good day my darlings. And a very Happy Valentine’s Day to you!

Firstly, a serious note. It makes me sad to see how miserable people get around this time of year, or how people feel if they don’t have a boyfriend/girlfriend, their life isn’t worth living, and they should just go and hide under the duvet for the entire day, and sob about the fact that no cards have come through the door, no flowers, or they haven’t had a text/Facebook message/call from that person they sort of thought they were going out with but….

What’s possibly worse than that is the couples who use it as an excuse to put all the details of their relationship out in the open – Facebook, I’m blaming you – instead of just keeping it to themselves. I personally think love becomes a bit tarnished once it’s splashed all over Facebook. It makes me wonder why they can’t just talk to their actual boyfriend/girlfriend directly…

We’re morphing into a society where the concept of discretion no longer exists, where everything has to be laid out in the open, to inspire jealousy or sympathy in others. Now, I am most certainly not above reproach. This is my 6th blog, for goodness sake; I’m hardly a virgin to the world of oversharing. I too have felt the needling longing to post some vicious, biting, self-pitying status on Facebook, just because someone, ANYONE else must feel my pain, because otherwise it’s too much to deal with on my own…And equally, you want everyone to know when something has gone really super duper well for you.

BUT, I still can’t get my head round all the ‘oh, puppy, I wuv you so so so so much’ messages. Firstly, Cringefest 2011. Secondly, if you’re that close, why don’t you actually just, you know, TALK TO EACH OTHER. IN REAL LIFE. You remember that, don’t you? That thing where you move your mouth, and someone else utilises their ears. Yes. I’m terribly glad for you that you’ve found someone madly special, but please, a little Facebook etiquette. This ranting is usually better left to A A Gill; it’s not really my style, so I do apologise.

I happen to have a lovely chap myself, but as a seasoned Facebookphobic, I wouldn’t dream of embarrassing him with splashy declarations of my love and lust (I’ll just do that in this blog. I kid, I kid). But I for one will be telling him how marvellous I think he is via a less public forum.

Now, moaning all done and dusted, here’s the real crux of the post. I love Valentine’s Day. I literally, absolutely, and totally love it. Always have done, always will do, unless an acrimonious divorce gets in the way. I remember when I was about 10, getting up mega early on Valentine’s Day morning, and decorating our whole sitting room with purple crepe paper hearts I’d made myself, chiffon-y sheets, hearts dangling from the ceiling, flowers etc, to surprise my parents with. It’s pretty much my Christmas.

Perhaps it’s the time of year it comes at – just when that first tingle of Spring sunshine is starting to make an appearance, but still cool enough to retreat to your bed for hours and not feel guilty. I love this time of year, as I’ve mentioned before. I start skipping around like a lamb. Val’s Day is the cherry on top of the cake. It’s about LOVE, which to me means every kind of love. It’s about family and friends, not just romantic love. It’s a day to think about someone else, be a bit nicer, and as Annie Lennox and Al Green once sang ‘think of your fellow man, give him a helping hand, put a little love in your heart…’

So, think not of the red roses, the love hearts, or the Godiva chocolates you feel you’re missing out on. You are loved, you are not lonely, and it’s nearly Spring. I’m sorry for the rant, it’s really not my territory, and I’ve probably massively offended half of you. But I don’t think anyone should ever be made to feel bad by the behaviour of others, and no one should EVER have to feel rotten about being single, because there’s nothing wrong with it whasoever. Anyway, go out and spread some serious love. Send an old fashioned letter to a lover, go and see your grandma, give your dad a hug, take a friend out for cocktails.

Share the love!

Project #003/update

Posted in DIY by

Oh, curse you, British weather. I didn’t manage to get out in the garden this weekend, so I’ve been working on prep for another couple of projects (as well as shoving a lot of things on Ebay and sorting out horrible old internet banking).

So, for what will be Project#012, the Royal Wedding Party, I have been creating hand-crafted invitations for my guests.

And, for what will be Project#19 (if I’ve calculated correctly), I will be entering my very first race for charity, ever. So, unlike every other year, where I just look at the flyers for it, and think ‘ooh, I really should get round to doing that’, I’ve decided to go for it properly. Which starts with actually signing up. Which I have just completed….

http://www.raceforlifesponsorme.org/ameliasimmons1601

Sorry it’s been an unsatisfying week for actually completing projects, but I’ve got a few to do in the next week (week off), so will keep posting 🙂 xxx