In brief...

Back.


Tired.
Happy.
Brown.
Poor.

Food: Jerk chicken, rice and pea and dumplings. Pieminister. Nachos. Tartaflette.
Bands and assorted other entertainment: PULP. Beyonce. Wu Tang Clan. Tinie Tempah. Oh Land. Craig Charles. John Cooper Clarke. The Lancashire Hotpots. Mr B The Gentleman Rhymer.
Drink: Cider. Cider. Cider. Gin. Cider. Ice cold lemonade. Cider.
Laughs: Too numerous to mention.
Weather: Sun, rain, mist, sun, sun, SUN.


Incredible. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to sleep.


Photos: 1) The drink of choice; 2) Beyonce; 3) Full sun; 4) Obligatory flags; 5) Heaven; 6) Hell; 
7) The ever gorgeous Lisa and me; 8) Mandatory waterproofs; 9) The crowd at Pulp

Outfit Post: Festival Strength

It's that time of year again!

Yes, Glastonbury Festival is here. I'll be setting off from Manchester at horrific o'clock tomorrow morning for the field of dreams in Somerset and I cannot wait. This will be my seventh Glastonbury and, if it's possible, I'm more excited this year than ever before. Which is probably because there isn't one next year and so this year must be EPIC. Oh yes.

The weather forecast isn't fantastic but, when you've got a pair of silver wellington boots, it lessens the fear of the rain slightly. I'm just praying there won't be a repeat of 2007 when the phrase "Mordor cometh!" was coined, due to the black clouds and general post apocalyptic nightmare that ensued as a result of five full days of rain. Watching Bill Bailey on the Sunday night in two feet of mud, with rain coming in horizontally, was not an experience I relished.

I went and got myself a little side fringe on Saturday and I'm loving it. In this photo you can also see the myriad of colours that my hair has become. Is it black? Is it brown? Is it red? THERE'S NO NEED TO DECIDE! (bonus points if you get the quote)

So, I obviously haven't managed to schedule any posts for while I'm away. I'm currently knee deep in DIY, ripping up carpets in readiness for new carpets being fitted on Thursday and painting skirting boards and the spare room. Oh, and I haven't actually packed for Glastonbury yet. PASS THE SEQUINS!


See you on the flip side, loves xx

Top & Socks - Topshop

Necklace - Lady Luck Rules OK

Shorts - H&M

Wellies - Hunter

Viva los Glasto

Glastonbury was...

Hot. Oh so very very hot.
Incredible. So incredible I can't even remember all the amazing moments.
Dirty. The dust has rendered my feet unfathomably filthy.
Magical. As always.

Because I'm exhausted and have barely slept for the past five - days due to an intense combination of the hottest tent in the world (seriously, gasping for air at 7.30am is not enjoyable), vuvuzelas, a night time trip to the stone circle and too much fun - for now you get facts and a couple of photographs. Nothing more. 

Things I lost:
A filling
My foundation
My Chanel eyeliner (sob)
My mirror
Dignity and a fair few brain cells

Things I ate:
Jerk chicken, rice and pea and dumplings
Pieminister
Pura Vida nachos (the best on site)
A garlic guzzler burger at 4am. Mistake
A pancake with ham and cheese (served to me by a Gunter Von Hagens lookalike who called me beautiful and didn't charge me. I am a whore for free food)

Oh Monsieur Eavis, with this festival you really spoilt us.

Festival time!

Glastonbury is 16 days away. 


Consider me extremely excited. Bands, booze, incredible food and 5 days in a field with friends, old and new. I'm a proper festival girl at heart and, if I could afford it, I'd go to one every weekend during summer. Alas festivals are an expensive business these days (my first Glastonbury cost less than £100, this year it's closer to £200). Plus they've become a lot more glamorous than they used to be, necessitating strenuous outfit planning in the weeks leading up to them.

I think I took only my oldest, most battered clothes the first time I ventured to Worthy Farm. These days I'm of the opinion that more is most definitely more when it comes to festivals. Particularly Glastonbury, where you can be rubbing shoulders with people in full ballgowns, burlesque outfits and everything else in between.

Sweatshirts with animals on, floral playsuits, sparkling jewels, bright red lipstick (which I've only started embracing in the last week or so... yet another thing I didn't think I could get away with), leopard print and sequins will be squeezed into my rucksack, alongside essentials such as packets of tissues (so much easier to carry around than toilet roll), sun cream (ever since sunburn-gate of 2003), wet wipes and bin bags. Oh, and of course the obligatory kagoul and wellington boots.

Which festivals are you going to this year, if any? Any fellow Glastonbury goers?

I've got a golden ticket...

And so the Glastonbury circus begins once more....

A mere 97 days since the end of the last one, the frantic scrabble began for tickets at 9am this morning (although you could actually buy them from about 8.50am). Some people are still trying to get them now. Poor souls.

Me?

Tickets were booked by 8.55am and we were then free to enjoy our hangovers in peace, with the help of Paris Hilton's My New BFF, Running In Heels and Coronation Street. Ah, perfect Sunday morning television. Only trash can ward of the effects of 4 hours sleep, too much cider and too much dancing in high heels. However, on checking my email I seem to have received two different confirmation emails. Yes, that's right folks. My ticket buying skillz are so potent that I managed to do the impossible and order two for myself. Now if only phoning See Tickets was easier than birthing a small calf then I might be able to cancel the erroneous order and let someone else buy the ticket.

Only 261 days to wait now. Sigh.

Glastonbury: in pictures

A few Glastonbury gems for you (I say gems but, in reality, these photos are obviously the product of too much cider)....

Arrived! A mere 14 hours after we set off from home we were all set up and ready to barbecue. 12 and a half hours in the car was not something I ever wish to repeat but, somehow, the minute you're there it all seems worthwhile. The magic of Glastonbury is alive and well.

Tent city. But the lights, the lights! Look how they sparkle! Look at them shine! We camped on the Dairy Ground this year and it was pretty much perfect. On a slope, not too far to walk and nice and quiet at night for old bids like myself who need at least some sleep.

This was taken pre-rain. Look at my little smiling, slightly grubby, slightly (actually, maybe grossly) drunk face. Oh I do love me a festival in the sunshine. However, a mere half hour later this was the deal...

Rain = not my friend. I like to call this photo 'Fuming of Warrington'. I think my anger lasted until about 2 minutes later, when I got another glass of cider placed in my little fist.

Me, the friends, some random woman and MICHAEL EAVIS! Shame I got Mr Shaky Hand man to take it though. Still, at least this way you can't see my unbelieveable sunburn and my hair that took on Monica from Friends in the humidity proportions. Shocking.

The wishing tree. Every year I make a wish. For the last two years it's been the same one. Take a wild guess...

I found this amongst the old wishes from years gone by. How topical. And slightly terrifying. The wishing tree clearly has too much power. It must be feared.

The flags. The ubiquitous bloody flags. They're everywhere. "I'm by the flags!" comes the eternal cry. "Which ones?" comes the rage-filled reply. Flags = the scourge of lost festival goers.

Ah, Blur. I think this was during 'Tender'. They were amazing. I last saw Blur in 1994. That's 15 years ago. I'm officially old.

Roll on 2010!!

Return of the mack

And she's back....


Tired, sunburnt, panda-eyed thanks to huge sunglasses, fuzzy, happy and in a state of bewilderment.

It was, predictably, fabulous.

Highlights: Coming third in an impromptu musical statues contest near the cabaret tent, Tom Jones, the sun, Blur, sitting on the grass with a cider in hand and many many other things.

Lowlights: The rain, the mud, waking up at 7am every day in a tent that can only be described as a sweatbox.

More later but for now I need to sleep, shower, sleep some more and bask in the Glastonbury afterglow. 2009 was a vintage year. VINTAGE.

Watch me smirk

Festivus

So, another 365 days has passed by...

It's time once more for the odyssey that is Glastonbury Festival.

The weather forecast has, predictably, fluctuated wildly over the past week or so. At one point it actually seemed like our prayers had been answered and we were going to, shock horror, get a sunny and warm festival. Now however, it seems fairly certain that we're going to get at least some rain (or torrential downpours, depending on which forecast you listen to) and, with the rain, comes the mud.

Ah, the mud. The mud that, two years ago, nearly made me leave the festival early. Note the nearly. I didn't. I couldn't. But the mud sure does make things difficult. Endless slogging between stages, concentrating so hard on not falling over that you almost forget to have a good time. Those fools who think everyone wants to mud wrestle with them. Well I don't and I will chin anyone who tries to make me. So there. I'd like to remain as dry and clean as is possible whilst spending five days in what can only be described as a 1200 acre latrine.

But I think I've made my point. Mud = bad. So pray for me, won't you?

See you on the other side... xx

Tis the season...

Ain't it the truth

Festival season is almost upon us...


Well, kind of. Glastonbury is only 7 weeks away at any rate and that little nugget of realisation was enough to send me into full on panic/excitement/spiralling out of control mode earlier. I spiralled so far out of control that I spent £45 on some wellies. I feel it was a necessary purchase though as my trusty leopard print numbers died a sad and tragic death at V last year. They sprung holes, let in water and mud and eventually I just had to say goodbye. I abandoned them in the car park along with my pride, dignity and 7 hours of my life (nothing worse than queuing to get OUT of a car park). So I'm now the proud owner of some green Hunter adjustable wellington boots (adjustable to fit round my gargantuan calves). Who on earth do I think I am? Kate 'where's your daughter' Moss? Please.

R.I.P.

In celebration of the close proximity of festival joy I bring you....

My Top Ten Festival Moments (in no particular order):

1) My friend Emma falling in the nettles in the permaculture garden at Glastonbury in 2007. We'd spent the afternoon in the Jazzworld Field getting progressively drunker, louder and more obnoxious on Brothers festival strength cider. We then attempted to traverse the Green Fields and said nettle disaster occurred. On texting her boyfriend Emma received the following response "But it's not even time for Emmerdale yet". Daytime drinking for you there.

2) Dame Shirley Bassey performing on the Pyramid Stage at Glastonbury, again in 2007. She wore wellies with 'DSB' encrusted in rhinestones, sang 'Big Spender' twice ("you've paid your money, you can have it again") and exited the festival in a helicopter. Legend.

3) Me having an emotional drunken breakdown and heckling Amy Winehouse at V last year. C had to take me back to the tent and, as I was so utterly drunk, the only way I could get there was to make up a song and time my footsteps to the beat. It went thusly "Moo moo moo, I'm a moo, everyone's a moo, we're all moos. Moo moo moo." No, I don't know either. It was 6pm. FAIL.

4) Seeing Altern8 DJ at Bloom last year. Sunday afternoon + early 90s rave anthems = complete and utter joy.

5) Seeing Bill Bailey close Glastonbury in 2007. There was 2 feet of mud, the rain was coming in sideways, I didn't have so much as a poncho to keep me dry. He was incredible.

6) An utterly bizarre moment at Glastonbury in 2004 when James Hewitt served me cider from the Brothers bar. Yes, he's the man who had an affair with Princess Diana. No, I don't know why he was there. But it was definitely him.

7) Fancy dress day at Bloom last year. Highlights (no pun intended) were the two men dressed as highlighter pens, the hoards of old people and the two men with eyeballs for heads, wearing top hats.

8) Muse at Glastonbury in 2004 and last year at V. Two of the most incredible performances I've ever seen. I don't often listen to their music in the comfort of my own home but for sheer theatrics and take-your-breath-away-ness, you really can't beat them live.

9) C trying to smuggle a bag of wine into the V festival arena by putting it down his trousers. We got it inside and hilarity then ensued when he poked the spout out of his fly and poured the wine into cups. We got a lot of comedy mileage out of that one, let me tell you.

10) Getting so incredibly sunburnt at Glastonbury 2003 (my first one!) that I woke up the next day with a face like the elephant man. The evening before, following too much alcohol, I felt rather unwell. I crawled back to the tent and was promptly sick. Convinced I was going to die, I was practically writing my own will. I thought I'd been poisoned. It was sunstroke. I spent most of the next day in the tent with moisturising baby wipes on my face shouting 'I am not an animal'. Dark times my friend, dark times.


There are many many more moments that I cherish from my festival going experiences. However, many are of a more 'adult' nature and so not really suitable for airing on a blog. Rest assured though, there's never been a dull festival moment for me.