Woke up, got out of bed, dragged a comb across my head. Actually, I didn’t. My alarm woke me up at 5:45am, it ignited a hangover between my eyes and I pressed snooze for an extra precious 4 minutes. Then I got up and went to a shoot. It’s never a good idea to drink several large wines the night before a shoot but unfortunately, last night was my older brothers final evening in the UK before he and Frenchie jet out to Brazil via Mexico and Argentina so we had to drink booze and toast their holiday.
We had planned to take them for dinner at LMNT, a local restaurant which claims to be “London’s most eccentric dining room” , I would probably just say “it’s a bit weird but just up the road”. The interior has been decorated in a bizarre Egyptian style, with kama sutra emblazoned tiles in the toilets which one does not expect to see in the middle of Hackney. The food is always nice and it’s very reasonably priced. I would whole heartedly recommend an evening here and based on previous visits I would rate LMNT 8 mummified cats out of a possible 10.
The original plan was to walk to LMNT from mine, eat some nice food while looking at a fake sphinx and not simply to go out and guzzle alcohol which more often than not these days gives me a skull cracking pain the morning after. However, the plans changed and we ended up guzzling alcohol and having hangovers. I do, however, have a vague memory of eating noodles whilst sitting on my bed at around midnight, but I shall need clarification from The Wig as to whether this was real life or a chardonnay induced dream. We ended up taking our guests to The Book Club in Shoreditch. They have music, food, drinks and ping pong upstairs, and downstairs they sometimes have bands and dancing. The Wig and I had our birthdays there last year and we both had a jolly old time. I think also on some Sundays they have little stalls inside selling home made stuff, although to be honest, this also could have been a dream. Best check their website for the cold hard facts.
So, feeling slightly fragile, I said goodbye to the older brother (Frenchie was still asleep), tried not to cry and then braved the cold and darkness to make my way to the shoot. Unfortunately I received the kind of text at 6am, that one in charge of organising a shoot never wants to receive, “Sorry, we are going to be late. Our vehicle got stuck in the yard. From the Caterers”. No sausage bap on arrival to the shoot?! What’s the point in going! Over 200 shoots in 14 years and this has never happened to me before. Just my luck it would happen when I feel rough as an old boot, and don’t look much better. The only good thing about today was the little parting gift I received from Frenchie. A sweet little bottle of perfume in the shape of an apple, which I think is from Paris. Ooh la la!. You press down the stalk and the perfume squirts out! Amazing. I’m going to miss those guys! But at least I'll smell nice.
Talking of work, here is a link to something I worked on just before Christmas. Yes, that is Adrien Brody. Swoon.....
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