And FH grapples with a Liverpudlian stereotype (something about the Mersey?)
Fag Hag teetered off to the Haymarket Hotel last night (so much nicer than those Philippe Starck ones – I’m so over having to sit in a purple foot whilst I wait to check in…) for a cham-pag-knee soiree.
The bash was in honour of my pal Tony, who has just been made Big Boss of Wallpaper* magazine. ‘Not bad for a Scouse lad,’ I said loudly in front of the glamorous throng of designers wearing black frames, photographers looking brooding and ladies with fashion hair. ‘Although,’ I continued to a bunch of them, ‘I’d still keep an eye on your bag.’
Some laughed, some looked confused, but a few, I swear to God, clutched their Chloes a little tighter to their chests…