Friday, July 18, 2008

Lovely dope smells at Irvine Welsh boat party.

Great Party for Irvine Welsh and his new novel Crime last night despite an autumn July sky. We boarded the Golden Flame at Westminster Pier and cruised east to Canary Wharf. Oh, there's The Angel pub where Profumo used to booze with Keeler. The Express building, a dark blue-ribbed affair, is most enchanting - a pity Richard Desmond calls a few of his staff fat cunts. But I hear they now have a gorgeous staff restaurant on the top floor so he can't be all bad. The FT glass block looks cheap and nasty but must afford great river views if you're the paper's pompous editor. Sarah Waters - Tipping The Velvet - was with her luscious girlfriend, though they got to look bored by the Miami Vice theme and noisy disco. Writer Tim Lott didn't pause to disembark at the end either.

Welsh was attired in red shirt, black jacket, Prada black shoes, straw hat. Most of his friends were of the wideboy variety - "Makes a change from being glassed" was one comment I picked up. "Well, at least we've got a barrister in the family now" was another. The air was pungent with dope and passively I got quite spaced out. No speech, just posters for the book. Even the PRs failed to make themselves known. And no cunting literary eds so far as I could tell. A perfect party.

Did I see Irvine trying to dance to Talking Heads? I must have imagined it. Crime will be turned into a movie.

5 comments:

Anonymous said...

you missed celia walden's launch and the guardian party. you're the cunt.

Madame Arcati said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Madame Arcati said...

"Missed" is the wrong verb dearie. "Avoided" is the exact word. If you were familiar with this blog - and plainly you have lived a sheltered life in some newspaper office planning holidays and improvising a dildo with your tampax - you would know that Celia Walden is not high on my party list.

As for the Guardian party, I can't imagine why I would wish to be in the presence of a group of celebrity and money worshippers who are only one step removed from the realm of Hello! If you want to witness a professional celebrity arselick just go to the Guardian these days.

I am also amused that you attempt to compare Walden with Welsh. One is in effect the beneficiary of society goodwill on account of some judicious fucking by her parents and her good self (separately of course); and the other is a celebrated novelist.

Most of those who attended the Walden party did so for superstitious reasons, hoping some of the blonde's glitz rubs off on their creped ambitions.

Steady now. That ladder looks a bit wobbly.

Anonymous said...

I suppose among those, cunt, you include sarah brown?

Madame Arcati said...

Did Sarah Brown say or do something interesting apart from arrive and then stand around with a hardly-touched glass of bitter plonk in her paw? The absence of any actual goss from Celia's do or the Guardian do suggests that people were content just to arrive then stand about in a crowded little room. It's not for me to question your curious social tastes; I am a broad church of tolerances. Did Sarah say something interesting? Or did you get a tan basking in her solar person? Don't hold back now.

Cunt.