Hard Knock Life

Photos from the gorgeous weekend - picnics post partying on Clapham Common (with every other 20-something in the world) followed by another strenuous day of lounging, this time in a garden in Ealing (Eden?) complete with sun-bed and M&S tapas.

Spot the difference between the one photo I took, and the nifty numbers from happy snapper Dan and his sickeningly arty iPhone App.

Sarah Deeks: Graduate of the call a spade a spade school of photography.

Glorious

London was blessed with unusually glorious sunshine this weekend - makes the world of difference doesn't it? Simple tasks become pleasures and time is oh so easily spent lounging when the sky is blue and the sun is on your back.

And I got off to the best of starts. I left work early (my boss taking pity on my longing looks out of the window) and dashed home to get ready for the arrival of some of my nearest and dearest friends, who were all gracing chez Deeks and Clapham's finest danceries for Lucy's Birthday. I met Lucy six years ago now, within an hour of arriving at university for the first time - a blonde cheerleader from Manchester with legs up to her armpits - it is impossible to ignore her charms and we have been friends ever since.

Friends tend to fall in to different categories, home friends/family friends/work friends/school friends.... and of course university friends. Friends you are thrown together with by chance, friends you will live with, succeed with and make massive, all emcompassing mistakes with. Friends you will get into the most mischief with - friends you will have the most fun with. University friends are a special breed, and I really hit gold with mine.

Friday night we reverted to Freshers once again - mixing drinks, singing in cabs, dancing in clubs and can-canning all the way to McDonald's at 3 o'clock in the morning. Not sophisticated, not grown-up, and definitely not very Vogue. Not a thing I would change for all the money in the world.

Personalised Birthday cake - courtesy of cake-maker extraordinaire Jess

Drinks and presents - post cake, pre burger.

Moments before the infamous can can...

The way all truly epic nights should end...We made it large.

Elephant Invasion!

London is under seige from a parade of elephants. 258 to be exact.

The colourful creations are part of the city's largest ever art exhibition, which intends to raise awareness of the plight of the Asian elephant, and raise money for their preservation.

Each elephant is unique, and designed by a different artist or celebrity - and you can buy them too! The elephants are being individually auctioned off to the highest bidder, with all proceeds going towards protecting the habitats of these majestic creatures.

Elephants never forget... so sign the petition here: http://www.elephantparadelondon.org/petition/

Moving Day

STOP THE PRESS: Rupert Sanderson's flagship Mayfair store has moved!!! .... a few doors down.

The new and improved three storey super-shoe-shop complete with showroom and swanky PR office, can now be found at 19 Bruton Place - I was predictably on hand to check out Rup's new digs and sip champagne in the springtime sunshine.

The 6th of May

Isabella Blow. Vogue House Alum, Style Icon, British Eccentric, Muse and Champion.

An aristocrat without a penny to her name who went from cleaner to Anna Wintour's assistant. From Editor to Fashion Agent Provocateur.

A Christopher Colombus in couture, she discovered Philip Traecy, Alexander McQueen, Sophie Dahl, Stella Tennant.

A woman with almost as many alter-egos as hats - ""I think hats will take over from drugs. I loathe drugs and I think the excitement of hats is that they can conquer them. And it's so much healthier than having a shot of heroin or a line of cocaine or something." A classic Blowism - mad, witty and delightful.

Issy died the year before I joined Conde Nast and just months before my work placement at Tatler, where she was Fashion Director before becoming a contributing Editor after her move to the Sunday Times. I never met her, but I could feel her in the heavy shock and sadness that surrounded her suicide in the corridors that were usually so full of frivolous fun and scandalous gossip.

I am thinking about her today, because her wardrobe is up for auction at Christie's (my article at vogue.com) and I discovered that she died on the same day as a dear friend of mine - the 6th May. My friend died young and beautiful at 23. Issy died older, and at her own hand. The people and the manner polarised, but the loss is the same. The loss is always the same.

I think I would have loved Isabella Blow. I feel sorrow for those who loved and lost her.

Map of Nowhere

In what I hope will be a charming antidote to the previous Essex blog, I am going to tell you about that time I went to a lecture at the British Library about maps.

No really.

The British Library is currently exhibiting 'Magnificent Maps - Power, Propaganda and Art'. Unsurprisingly, it was not I, but Alan Deeks, who was the catalyst behind this particular jolly, and it is testament to my love for him that I went along with it so amiably. To sweeten this somewhat bitter pill, Cindy Deeks booked us tickets to a two hour map lecture afterwards - the sweetener being that Grayson Perry would be speaking.

I love Grayson Perry. I first saw his work when he was nominated for the Turner Prize in 2003 for his pots - the first Potter to ever win, and most probably the last. His work falls somewhere between art and craft - he is a potter, painter, drawer, quilter, sewer. He is an Essex born cross-dressing married father of one. He is impossible to categorise, and would prefer you didn't try. His work is beautiful, witty, relevant and accessible. He is eloquent, fiercely intelligent and cripplingly modest.

Perry spoke about maps and how he has used them as a medium - to organise information, to chart experience, to express a journey. Perry is his own subject, and most of his work, and his maps, are introspective. I've never heard an artist speak about their work in such an honest way before, and this really was an honour and a privilege. I would recommend this exhibition to anyone.

Map of Nowhere

The Walthamstow Tapestry

A tiny section of Perry's Map of an Englishman

You can take the girl out of Essex....

But you'll never take the Essex out of this girl.

No longer having a home in the legendary county hasn't dulled my love for it - and no sooner had the bell tolled 5.30 last Friday was I away from my desk and aboard a train to Ingatestone, near Brentwood in Essex.

The reason for my visit? My darling Emma is departing, yet again, for sunnier climes. As a super-cool-hot-shot Club Rep Miss Claridge teases us with her presence in the Winter months, and then come May she's off again, ready to charm holiday makers in a new destination. This year it's Zante, and I'm already harbouring hopes of a late summer getaway to see my oldest, cheekiest friend.

But Friday night was not a night to dwell on such sadness. Friday was a night to party like only Essex can, where the music scene refuses to let go of the early noughties garage heydey and where the wine is £4.95 a bottle.

God bless the homeland.

Emma. I miss her already.

Wright and Teague

Mayfair jewellers Wright and Teague launched their new collection Nuba, earlier this week - and the fabulous Alex Kotsias and I were onhand for champagne guzzling and accessory ogling.

Highlights? Getting papped, making friends with Ginnie Weasley (vast exaggeration) and trying on a 19k solid gold necklace... which I promptly had to give back.

See my Vogue.com article for all the gossip.

BUNNY BLOG (5)

I exercised my Godmother rights last weekend with a spot of bunny-sitting - and I even managed to refrain from smuggling the little fluffsters home with me.

Regular followers of BUNNYBLOG will remember the anticipation of their arrival, the joy of our first meeting, and the excitement of the first obstacle race (in which i was unfairly penalised for 'bunny pushing'). Well, the bunnies are all grown-up now, and apart from the odd nibble at the skirting board (expressly forbidden in the Gillinson-Barratt household) they were as good as the little gold Lindt bunnies with bells around their necks.

Matilda looking contemplative

Male bonding

Barnaby, observing from on high

Just incase you thought it was all glamour...

Quilting

The Bank holiday weekend is always a perfect excuse to have an indulgent day - a treat day. And my treat day was spent with my mother, at the V&A.

Although she would never admit it, my mother is incredibly artistic. Be it knitting or sewing, cooking or card making, she is always creating, making or designing - and always in a practical way. Things to use or consume, to be worn and to keep you warm. A treasured possesion of mine is the blanket she knitted for me, which lies at the end of my bed in summer, and is generally wrapped about my person during winter. It is functional and beautiful. Rather like its maker.

The quilt exhibition at the V&A appealed to both of us, but I had no great expectations of it - an error on my part, I found out. It's a fascinating exhibition, documenting quilts from the 1700's to modern day. And no, this isn't just a lot of pretty blankets, it really is a journey through history. And not just the 'big' history on the curriculum, but the history of women, of domestic and family life through the ages.

The earlier quilts were amazing for their intricacy, the time and labour was unimaginable by today's standards - they could take decades to complete, and were handed down through generations. The wartime quilts were particularly charming, where the 'make and mend' mentality was clearly present - the backing could be pieces of newspaper or the paper from an empty bag of flour. The material could be scraps from clothing, ribbons, old curtains... and pieced together they were really quite breathtaking.

Believe it or not, quilts can be subversive too. Because they are so intrinsically linked to the family and domestic sphere artists like Grayson Perry and Tracey Emin have used the medium to discuss abortion, child labour, adolescence.

It really was a unique exhibition - and an interesting contrast to the V&A's current showcasing of Grace Kelly's dresses - a woman emulated and admired by millions for her elegance and glamour. Together, the exhibitions show the dream and the reality. The way women wanted to be, and what life was really like, and maybe what was really important.

Crowds are flocking to see Grace's wardrobe and booking in advance is essential - but for me, the quilts would win every time.

Tracey Emin's 'To Meet My Past'

Grayson Perry's 'Right to Life'