You have to watch this film while it’s currently on general release.
A few weeks ago I had realised that there were no Hollywood in Bollywood films on the horizon. Could it be? Could the Slumdog Millionaire franchise actually fail to produce another saccharine feel-good Hollywood blockbuster? Are there no more Americans that need to travel to India and “find him/herself” and return a changed human being for the greater good?
And then just like buses, three films come at once. One I’ve forgotten about already. I couldn’t face the Helen Mirren cooking one. But the baseball one seemed palatable, not least because the hunk (haven’t said that for a while) from Mad Men was in it. Enter… Million Dollar Arm.
Ok, so I am a veggie but I don’t like vegetarian restaurants, certainly not vegan ones. Lettuce munchers, allergic to good taste. It’s just something about the atmosphere in them that turns me off. A room full of veggies, a crazy night does not make.
God, I love living in London.
Where else can you eat lunch in a crypt made by Sir Christopher Wren? Cafe Below is an exquisite cafe under St Mary-Le-Bow Church on Cheapside. A hop and a skip away from Bank tube station.
A few evenings ago my sister reluctantly dragged me to see Nish Kumar, the stand up comedian, performing at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival. I’m not into stand up comedy but I laughed from beginning to end whilst sipping my delicious pear cider.
Tigers are synonymous with India to the point of boredom. It is my irrational rejection of tiger references in literature that led me to ignore The White Tiger by Aravind Adiga for years. Man Booker Prize winner? Meh, so what, I thought, it’s probably full of quaint stereotypes from cover to cover.
I’d forgotten about it entirely until a friend recently recommended it to me and then I happened to find a copy on my bookshelf (not by magic my sister must have bought it). Well, quite simply: I loved it. I loved the style of writing, the perspective it is written from, the observational humour is wicked and I loved reading about Delhi (currently my third home city).
I just finished reading Doris Lessing’s The Golden Notebook. It is a wonderfully bold book charting, amongst other important events and cultural/social changes, the freedom of women.
Free to have careers, sex and their own opinions it is set during the evolutionary stage of female emancipation that we, women of today, can relate to even though the book is set from the 1930s onwards. This was a groundbreaking novel when it was published in 1962 and I would say it still strikes a chord today.
Every now and then I come across a gem of a find and this time it is Red Velvet, a play by Lolita Chakrabarti and starring her handsome husband, Adrian Lester!
Like many bloggers, I am a closet novelist. Ah yes, that theory that we all have within us one great story. I can write! I am interesting! Funny, dramatic, sensational. First I will win the Costa book awards and then Booker to prove I’m not winning just because I am of the gentler sex (ha!)
The Maharaja of Indian couture, JJ Valaya’s opening show for AAmby Valley India Bridal Fashion Week was as spectacular as to be expected from a designer who spares no expense in executing his vision.
It’s sunny in London and that means the evenings really do begin at 5!
If you are catching a play south of the river, heading to the BFI or find yourself generally milling around Waterloo then please may I recommend this slightly pricey but fabulous restaurant: the Waterloo Bar & Kitchen, it’s next to the Old Vic and is divine.
“Oh god” my friend gasped “what a tacky poster for a classic play, you can see his nipples for God’s sake”. He was referring to Sweet Bird of Youth by Tennessee Williams currently showing at the Old Vic.
The poster that so disgusted my well-heeled friend was of Kim Cattrall all glammed up in a 1950s feverish pose over a lovely naked man half her age.
I went to see the play this week with three girlfriends and all of us, yes ALL of us, couldn’t think of a better combination of seeing our favourite SATC gal and Ripped Torso Man getting it on in our favourite theatre.
I simply LOVE Daft Punk’s new album. It’s not very often that almost every song on an entire album would get over 8/10 in a scorecard yet here we have one. I’m a former 90s raver/RnB fan and I thank Daft Punk for their Pharell Williams collaboration and for giving RnB some of its mojo back. It hasn’t been a good decade for some music genres.
I’ve also been in Delhi for the last five months and now that I’m back in London and have Random Access Memories
I remember when I first moved to South West London and my cousin took me to a bar in Chelsea. “Oh my god” she heard me mutter as we walked in. “Great isn’t it” she nodded at me. No. It wasn’t great, it was awful, full of tossers, one of whom said “it was great to see Asians drinking in Chelsea”.
Having heard great things about Seventeen in Notting Hill, I broke with tradition and decided to Go West and try it out.
First impressions were incredible, this certainly is a very cool Chinese restaurant, very modern but in keeping with a Chinese aesthetic. I’m not entirely convinced it belongs in Notting Hill which is more understated cool, but anyway, I was looking forward to a fab meal having been very impressed immediately with the restaurant interior.
A much anticipated show during PCJ Delhi Couture Week 2012 was the return of Indian fashion’s showman extraordinaire, Manish Arora.
Manish very recently spent two seasons at the helm of Paco Rabanne in Paris and prefers to show in Paris in any case. It’s not difficult to see why, his is the only collection with a distinctly Western feel and not a bridal gown in sight. I’ve been to a few Manish Arora shows over the years and his creativity is truly inspiring. The energy and zeal in his collections are inimitable, however, my compliments end there on this occasion.
A delayed post about the Golden Globes fashion hits and misses, apologies, things happen!
Firstly let me say, in India last night it was the Screen Awards which I guess is the Indian version of the Globes but I’m not going to review the fashion because I can’t pretend to care about the celebrities or the fashion. A sari is a beautiful garment, end of. No one wore anything else.
So back to the Globes, please do get your comments off your chest too!