A hideous job and a fabulous weekend!

My weekend was sadly kicked off by one of those days that you may as well just write off!

My blackberry has wired out (shock) so couldn't use my alarm and asked French Boy to set his.I awake to the sound of the shower - and check the time - it's 10:29 and my train's at 10:47 - thanks a bunch French Boy.

I have a shower at the speed of light and leave the house without brushing my hair, giant sunglasses and make up bag in hand.

I somehow actually make work on time - make up expertly applied on tube - only to find that the little modelling job I had imagined - actually involves being a glorified waitress at London Bier fest !

We actually had to wear Bavarian outfits, have our hair braided and lug beer tankards the size of champagne buckets over to tables - in stilettos!

The guys started off being posh boy stockbrokers (question - why were they drinking beer at 1pm on Friday afternoon and not getting the country out of financial ruin?) and two hours and a couple of gallons of Okoberfest later, they were disgusting, groping, burping monsters!
I'm not sure I have ever left a job so quickly.

Fortunately Saturday was a whole different party thank goodness started off with a shoot being cancelled due to rain. I still get paid as less than 24 hours notice plus I get a lay in - result! So have a nice relaxing day then head down to Maya to run the door for it's second birthday party - all dolled up as my girls are taking a table there. By bight buzzes past and before I known it I'm downstairs, little glass of champagne in hand having a dance.
I end up arriving home at half past six - whoops - little sister in tow - French Boy will be pleased in the morning! It wasn't strictly my fault the clocks went back so we stayed open another hour and I didn't realise...that's my story and I'm sticking to it!

Celeb count for the week -

VV Brown and the New York Patriots at Maya Friday
Calum Best and a bunch of footballers Sat.

Some nights are a waste of an outfit!

Some nights just don't go to plan do they?

I had planned everything including am outfit suitable for doing the door at a rock gig then going straight to the opening of a new club, (leggings, thigh high suede Kate Kuba boots, All Saints vest,leather half gloves with couple of crystals and cropped biker jacket in case you were interested).

Inside is almost full when I arrive and that is just the acts - I guess this is a back up plan in case nobody turns up. There seems to be no knowledge of the guest list so I do the sensible thing and go to Starbucks to pick up a skinny, sugar free, hazelnut latte (yum) and sit in the office while they organise themselves!

I am then informed by the manager that they have brought their own door girl who is (and I quote) "a massive diva" and will not share her door. 1) This is my door sweetie and 2) I have never seen a "massive diva" in Ugg Boots at a door. So I head home leaving diva and co to it trying to work out how much I've made per minute tonight!!!

Home with a cup of tea (Twinings white tea with pomegranate and a spoon of honey OBSESSED with it - very good de tox) and decide to have a go at doing my Tescos shop online. I don't have a car French boy loves his X5 more then life itself so its a taxi situation for my weekly shop. All seems to be going well until I get to check out and my grandads address is the delivery address.. what the hell! I change it - and it wipes my basket. Typical. And so the process begins again... until 2am when finally the order is done and I can look forward to my breakfast!!

Spent today trying to book girls for 5 jobs that have just come in and a teeny tiny bit of online browsing... a girl needs to keep her winter wardrobe updated!

I'm doing the door at Mace PRs night at Maya, then dressing up as a German beer girl for the Beer Festival in town tomorrow (the things I do for money!!). Then back on the door tomorrow night then shoot for a make up company on Sat - busy few days...wish me luck!

The morning after.....

You can tell it's been a good night when you awake at 11, French Boy's failed to make it to work and the bathroom is littered with empty champagne glasses..

Welcome to this morning...

Franklin had somehow made it to work, and as far as I can recall Irish was safely deposited at her house. Make up AND the Cheryl Cole super lashes were off and I had remembered to drink a bottle of Evian so no hideous hangover.

Successful night all round, started off chez Princess and French Boy, well me and the girls did, Frenchie scarpered soon after the first champagne fuelled rendition of "I've got a feeling.....".

After some important outfit choices (Irish - Barbies little sister, Franklin - Barbies brunette sister and me - rock star dominatrix Barbie) and rather a lot of amaretto Bellinis we jumped into our cab to Whisky Mist.

Sweet driver but reasonably useless - tip if you are taking cabs in London Express Cars in Muswell Hill are the cheapest - don't expect to leave in style we waltzed out of Movida last night, everyone else climbed into Bentleys and the like....Vauxhall Zafira anyone!!??!!

Rock up to Whisky for "one drink" people in front of us in the queue get knocked back - reminds me of the days of having no ID and the nervous feeling in the pit of your stomach as you approach the doormen - only it's worse cause if this girl turns you away it's cause you're not looking as good as you thought - wounder!! Fortunately being a guest list picker myself I know the tricks - make sure all your friends are hot and carry an expensive handbag . A cheap bag is worth a thousand words/a credit check and one friend not in line with the posh girl band look could throw a spanner in the works!

We swan in (phew)and bump into a friend who has a table - so end up partying with them, a couple of magnums of grey goose later and our table looks like a scene from Fame!!! We decide to head to Movida (home of the £10,000 cocktail) so we say our goodbyes and make our exit from Prince Harry's fave haunt.

On arriving at Movi we find ourselves sat inches from David Morales who is doing a special set for his friends birthday and arrive just in time for the famous champagne train - basically the music stops, Rocky theme tune comes on and fifteen waitresses in underwear come out holding two bottles each above their heads complete with sparklers! They then top everyone in VIP up and some poor sod foots the giant bill! Giant platters of cake and fruit come around and we dance the night away, champers in hand!

Celeb count - just Morales tonight I'm afraid guys!

Loved- my brand new calf skin over the knee boots!

Hated - girls wearing sequin knickers out as an outfit - you're lucky I had a night off the door ladies or you would have been going home to change!

Doing door at live music night at Maya tonight then heading to soft launch of the New Chinawhites.

Bring on the door....

Five nights on the door this week -

In London all dancers/models/singers and actresses have a money making back up job. This usually takes the form of -

Singers - Harrods perfume counters. Hot girls smiling with immaculate hair, brandishing the latest bottle of whatever Chanel has to offer.

Dancers - Abercrombie and Fitch. The only thing they consider when hiring is your photo and you can have time off for auditions/jobs.

Actresses - Promo/Hospitality - pays better than a normal job - about £100 for 6-8 hours, actresses are good at this as they can hide their disgust and rude and obnoxious customers more effectively!

Models - Guest List Bitching. This is my little money spinner. I am the door picker at London VIP spot, Maya. I love my job and you will find lots of models prowling the doors at the Capitals members clubs. We are trained to spot the following -
People who will spend (I'm talking into the thousands).
Beautiful People
Immaculately dressed people
People who look like they would sleep with any of the above (especially spenders) so the people we want in the club come back.
This is why if you see an 18 yr old in an Ed Hardy vest as a dress, a bucket full of make up and tonged extensions getting in and you are still waiting at the back of the queue - don't be offended at least I don't think you are easy!

I have met some pretty cool people during my days at the door - Nelly (short), Clive Owen (surprisingly hot), Usain Bolt (the personality is for the cameras), JLS (the nicest boys on the scene), Boy George (old and dwarf like) ,The Chicago Bulls and almost every footballer on the planet.

Tips to get into a club with a guest list
1) Be or look like Nicole from PCD
2) Be or have as much money as Abramovic
3) Do not turn up in a group of six guys, unless you are willing to take a table (this will coat between £600 and £1500 depending on the night and how busy we are.
4) Be polite - say you like my shoes and do not ask if they were from New Look - they weren't!
5) Bribary (gifts or good deals at desginer shops)
6) Do not dress as though you have come straight from the farm.
7) Do not use the excuse "I didn't know I was coming/I came straight from...." I hear it every five mins think of something original the manager once let in someone who I'm pretty sure was homeless because he convinced him he was in Foo Fighters!
8) Take a hint - "the guest list is closed/has been cancelled/sorry we are over twenty eights tonight/ we are at capacity" generally means you don't look right for the club.
9)If in doubt wear a little black dress or nice jeans and a stilettos - if you take a chance on the Christoper Kane fluro pink mirror dress and it doesn't work out you'll be left red faced and on your way to leicester square Yates!
10) Flattery gets you everywhere!

The London Family.

So before I start my daily (read weekly unless I can upload blogger onto my blackberry) diary I think we should get to know each other a little better!





Where better to start than my London family - only one member is actually related to me but anyone who has moved down to London on their own will know that your friends become your family in the city. The capital can be a lonely place so you need your little urban family as a support network.

First off is French Boy, otherwise know as The Boss, he is my gorgeous other half and is solely responsible for my transformation from sequin hot pant wearing girlbander into sleek and sophisticated designer diva. French Boy hails from a chateau in the wine swigging hills of Bordeaux. He loves numbers, fifty pound notes, rules and red meat. The success of our relationship is down to two simple elements, 1) I obey the rules and 2) he is very good at faking admiration for my carefully constructed outfits. The rules range from putting cutlery correctly into the dishwasher to not leaving "crap"(jewellery,money,lip gloss,bags) on work surfaces. The rules must be obeyed at all times and do not apply to the rule creator. My outfits range from Mossy esque rock chic to Park Avenue Princess and all elements must be considered in aforementioned admiration. The Boss owns a club in the city and thinks everyone is hideous except for Megan Fox, Angelina and yours truly

Next up Baby. She is my crazy and fabulous little sister. She is famous around the London for various acts of champagne fuelled debauchery including being thrown out of world renowned Chinawhites for doing a gymnastic routine swinging from the gas pipes in the ceiling. She is PR manager at a west end club, is as blond as humanly possible and 4ft 11 and a half. It is not recommended to get on the wrong side of Baby, my Dad has nicknamed her The Rottweiler for her fiery temper and I would say that was a pretty accurate, if Rottweilers looked like Barbies' little sister!

Coulter and Franklin - we are an infamous trio and without one we don't feel complete so it seems only right to put them together on here. These girls are gorgeous, wild and the closest thing you'll get sisters without sharing the same mum and dad! They are the kind of girls who would do anything for you - this includes framing a photo from a shoot in which they look "hideous" because I look nice, as a birthday present - in model world, trust me this is the biggest act of selflessness you will ever come across! Franklin as a mysterious double life, she lives in Milton Keynes with her family and has a real job (you will not come across this very much in this blog) by day. By night and at weekends she is an all dancing, maneating it girl in London. Coulter also known as Nicole or Scottish is a presenter on a casino channel and is best known for her break dancing in VIP clubs! She is the queen of the forwards roll on the dance floor!

Benny - Benny/Princess Ben/Benjamina is a dancer and model and he considers my outfits when choosing his on nights out. He had the Alexander McQueen Skull scarf before me and wore a sequin hoody to match my sequin dress on my birthday. He is fabulous and snogs girls on very special nights out.

Neenie - she is blond, from Grimsby and always wears hotpants or crop tops - or both if we are very lucky! She is loud and scares southerners on a daily basis!She's the first one to jump/crawl on the table on a night out and usually the first one to fall off it!

Lara - lara is the only member of the urban family with a real job we are all unsure of what she actually does (including her most of the time) but we think it involves the government, pr, trains and a lot of cocktails. She is Portugese and can shake her ass accordingly! She has podium dance in the most ghetto of clubs for shoe money but we are not allowed to tell anyone this as she is considering running for parliament - whoops!

Dominique,Bex,Lucy,Zena and Tori - The rest of my girls dancer, dancer,dancer, model and singer in that order. Hard to find real friends in London especially in good old back stabbing show biz - but somehow I have found them and I will not let them go!!!

Bienvenue from the Smoke!

Well.....How to introduce myself.

My name is Sam, I am from Grimsby and I now live in London.

I moved down here to become a filmstar/popstar or supermodel 7 years ago. And although I'm not quite there yet I have had some amazing experiences (as well as a lot of hideous ones) and a good old giggle along the way.

I have a crazy life, sometimes glamorous (multi million pound yachts in greece) sometimes the opposite (handing out beans in Asda carpark). But my one way or another my stories always seem to make people laugh so I thought why not share them with a few more people!

If nothing else it proves that dreams can come true - from Grimsby College stage to dancing Chopard parties on private islands and singing on film soundtracks and shoots for fashion magazines - sometimes I can't believe I have the life I dreamt of all those years ago in my Stage One classes - but I have - and here's how I did it....and continue to do it...representing the Mariners in the Capital!!!