Camera loves you daaaalingz!

Something very strange happened yesterday. Libby and I arrived in Oxford Circus for our voutcher photoshoot, late, harassed, sleep deprived, hungover, premenstral and all those lovely things that come with it (bloating, spotty, etc etc), dripping in heat and generally very attractive, then a group of women who were clearly magicians masquerading as makeup artists, hair stylists and photographers did this to us....


PS: if (or when) we go missing on our travels we'd like the two at the top as opposed to our...er...equally as lovely photos from Rowan thanks!!!

To fly or to buy, that is the question?!

One small step for surrey wives everywhere one giant leap for chav’s!! That’s right Colleen watch that (little tiny, yet apparently “curvy”?!?!) back of yours there’s a new contender in the ring. Since my introduction into the Desperate (to be a Surrey) Housewives club I am now faced with just that sort of conundrum, age old though it is!

As I’m sure you can ascertain it’s been a tough last few weeks. Once I’d returned for sunning myself in St Tropez and the South Coast for the majority of the month I was first whisked away to a health spa and then off to the Marquee section of Wimbledon. Yes that is right folks LA-DE-DA!!!!

My last 2 residential trips have been nothing if not a bizarre contrast of each other. The trip with the adults to Dorset (not Devon!!) was frightening in how relaxed it was- I got to eat, sleep, UNPACK, wash- all the luxuries of an actual holiday! Though the down side to going away with a lady who’s tourettes manifest’s itself as highly abusive verbals is the development of quick a large complex, quite quickly.

The following week I was off to Pagham again. This trip I had been conned into by the soon-to-be-head’s cunning managerial tactic of waiting until you are about to (literally) be shat on, attacked (bitten, scratched, used as target practice etc) or loose a small collection of children to call after you “Oh, I can I just ask one small favour….” Before you know it peace is restored and you have the situation under control, then the sickening feeling that it may have something to do with the fact you just blurted out “YES!!!!!” to get rid of her….but what to….. Well in my case it was to a trip (luckily I could only be conned into ½ or it!) with the other most notorious class. Quick synopsis, Bogna beach is actually very picturesque at 5 am when empty-though this maybe due to the delirium of being woken at 3? As for the bruises and bald patches, I think they speak for themselves! Actually again I couldn’t help but enjoy it…..except when it rained. It did. Quite a bit. Then we lost the keys for the other MUCH NEEDED caravan. Oh dear I’m starting to curl into a foetal position, so onto Surrey Wives….

After me, supposedly last trip away, what a better treat than a hen party…..at a health spa!! It was tough, I must say, because you had to walk all the way from the pool to the treatment rooms or sun terraced, which was nothing if not disappointing! IT do was held at The Manor House Hotel on the outskirts of Guilford and I must say the manager should be fired. But before he is ladies get down there and take advantage of the fact he seems to want to run the place into the ground! The treatment prices where more reasonable than they’d be in a salon, an over night stay including dinner and breakfast was £53. Anything from the dinner menu could be selected, prices per course went up to £25, breakfast was worth £10 and they didn’t charge us for our buffet lunch £6 or daytime spa drinks which day visitors have to pay about £1 a pop for. It was hot. We guzzled. So all in all I’d say they paid us to stay there! Needless to say we had an amazing time. The only downer was Sam the night porter who was very clearly very down on hen parties/women out unaccompanied by men and having the audacity to not only drink, but to enjoy themselves. Oh and the ever so suave Ben who dared join our table then proceeded to charm us with such lines as “I work for the Government, but cant tell you what I do. Would you like to guess? Guess. Well how old do you think I look? Government, government, PHD in zoology (very relevant to), government, government, Oxford, polo, hunting, blablablabla.” YUK!! He was a little meeker at breakfast the next day, perhaps it was something to do with his very poetic turn half way up the stair to bid us all “Bon nuit.”

Then there was Wimbledon. Well I just don’t really know quite how to describe the member’s enclosure, free flowing food, champers, pimms, and a lot of highly amusing people really having trouble with that awful decision we’ve all face at some point I’m sure:

What one does when one must fly to the south of France so regularly for parties Daaaling; does one buy the jet or just the air time? One once had to fly Easy-or should I say Cattle-Jet. One found it ghastly, especially having to hide all evidence of orange labels before one arrived.

Mmmm….One wasn’t impressed that my jewellery was fake (yeah because if it wasn’t it would’ve been over £50,000 and that is reasonable tennis attire!) so my guess was that one would have been equally displeased to hear that much of my outfit was bought in ASDA and that, in fact, a 1 penny flight to France with Ryan Air suits me just fine. Rather than make my dirty confessions I though I’d take the higher road and walk off in disgust (the arrival of the snorting laughter was immanent). So I did. With my head held high…

…and my skirt tucked in to my knickers.