I was sat in a two-hour lecture on Leninism, Stalinism,
Trotskyism and oh look how sparkly that girl’s hair clip ism and I bet I can
draw a pretty cat ism….
The standard nerd of the class kept asking those questions
that aren’t really questions but more statements to show how much he has read.
I have been ripping into this particular boy this whole term and arguing
against all his points or just rolling my eyes and nudging the person next to
me to giggle as he puts a dictaphone on the lecturer’s table at the start of
class, or is scribbling notes with such concentration his nose is touching his
paper. But I piped down in this class when I was told by one of the people I
nudged that he was autistic and I wasn’t funny.
So, I was bored. And hungry.
I got a text saying I should come out for dinner after my
lecture with my friend Kitty, a banker and two buyers for Selfridges.
My stomach rumbled in agreement. But I was wearing a Primark
dress so I ran up and down Oxford Street looking for something to wear and frantically
got changed in Soho Square, which I’m sure is not unusual.
We ate at La Botega
Negra, which serves Mexican food but you have to walk into what looks like
a porn shop on Old Compton Street to get into it. Essentially a cellar it was
small and overcrowded but the food was incredible, most memorably the leg of
lamb which arrived still cooking and took up most of the table. It was also the
kind of place where we had a round of Martinis bought for us by a ‘man across
the room’.
We then went to the Miu Miu Club, a three-day pop-up private
members club with Michelin-starred restaurants, a ‘conversation room’ and a
bunch of other such eccentricities, at the Café
Royal on Regent Street.
Not entirely sure how we got in, but amongst the chic
Italian ladies we looked a bit out of place. The building was incredibly ornate
and with all the luscious food and cocktails Kitty and me asserted, drunkenly,
that there must be macaroons to be found here. So we ran through ballrooms and
up and down grand staircases looking for them, in our haste we nearly had a
head-on collision with Kate Moss and Dita von Teese.
To our great disappointment there were no macaroons and after
causing sufficient ruckus we went home.
The next day I was doing a charity fashion show for Women
For Women, sponsored by Harper’s Bazaar and Browns in the Italian embassy.
After convincing someone at the door that Kitty was war torn and a worthy edition
to the evening, she sat in the front row and watched the show. There was then
an auction and one of the dresses I wore sold for £3000- I felt quite proud.
After the show I got my chance to see the splendour of the
embassy and mingle with the guests. Rumour got to us that there were macaroons
being served and we finally found what we had been searching for so long!
We then went to Wagamamas
behind Selfridges and had dinner with club promoters and JSL, which was
sufficiently bizarre.
We then went to Rose with the promoters and Wagamama gang for their usual Thursday
Hip Hop night, where we popped bottles of Ciroc and all that jazz.
We went home having not spent a penny in two days, but lived
the high-life- the true Model Student lifestyle.
Your macaroon-finding expert,
Nelly
