V festival - Essex massive.

It's a known fact that journalists, PRs, liggers, people who are nearly C-list and other media types get very excited about the VIP area at V Festival in Chelmsford.


Me and my fella Jimmy hanging out in the Lounge

To be fair the Louder Lounge backstage area is the nuts.
It comes with three bars - which are totally free, a whole tent designated to free food, complimentary spray tans and hair styling, a MAC makeup tent and a place to get a manicure (again both free).
What more could anyone want?
The problem is, all this wonderful freeness makes it very hard to leave.
And surely the whole point of going to a festival is to hear bands and dance around in a muddy field?
No? Well, definitely not in Essex.
Seriously. Everyone just stayed in the VIP area rinsing the free bar, quaffing cocktails, cupcakes and free food.
Which is fine, but it still amazes me...even on my fourth year covering it for work.


What the Louder Lounge looks like.
No mud, glow sticks or piss filled paper cups anywhere to be seen





Free cupcakes - yeah!!

Anyway, before I got stuck into boozing, we did some work for the column. We interviewed Matt Smith a.k.a Dr Who and his gorgeous model girlfriend Daisy Lowe - you know the one who got her kit off in Playboy recently?
Yep, we all now know her choice of bikini wax. (Full Brazilian for anyone wondering).
Talking about the full-frontal, naked snaps Daisy told me her Nan was "very proud" of her getting her "nunny" out. Her choice of word, not mine. I prefer the more eloquent 'lady garden'.

Meanwhile we spotted her fella Matt puking all over himself. Seriously, I'm not exaggerating.
On the second morning of V festival we saw a very hungover-looking Matt legging it to the bathroom (by bathroom, I mean sweaty portaloo).
He tripped, fell on his knees and was sick on the grass before rolling behind a tent to hide.
Moments later Matt and Daisy were having a romantic morning snog. Lovely stuff.
Obviously, being journalists, both the above moments were well documented, by us, in a national tabloid newspaper.


Dr Who's Matt Smith






Matt's girlfriend. Daisy Lowe

 We interviewed a flurry of celebs for the GOSS column including Rupert Grint, Keith Lemon, Meg Matthews, Spanish hottie Elen Rivas (Frank Lampard's ex) and former Sugababe Keisha Buchanan. 

The MAC make-up tent - unfortunately I couldn't be bothered to go in.
The queue was crazy long.



I really wanted to sleep in this little funky
 hippy hangout, who needs a tent hey?

We finally broke free of the showbiz VIP area to go and see the mighty Arctic Monkeys headline. Which was pretty flipping awesome.


Having a wee dancing to the Arctics with my fella...



The Oscars aftermath... Day Eight

Bizarrely on my last day in LA I had breakfast with a life coach.
I was sat in my hotel restaurant alone and so was she, so we sat together. People outside of London are nice to each other, so this didn't actually feel that weird.

It was an eye opening / ear bending but pretty cool experience.
I think if I stayed in Los Angeles much longer I'd get royally sucked in to all the parallel living nonsense.

Wendy (the life coach) left me with this little nugget of wisdom, "It's all about seeing the vision of your future Jessica and accepting it's presence".  Er, OK.

If I stayed another week I'd be coming back to Blighty with a face pumped with Botox, new boobs, a personal psychic, a mild eating disorder, super white veneers, a wheat intolerance and a pathetically small dog.

Luckily, for my boyfriend, six hours later I was boarding a flight home.

I had a fair well lunch with my LA friends at the Chateau Marmont, then headed to the airport full of calamari and Prosecco …great combination.
In the Chateau was Eva Longoria, Meg Matthews and Jade Jagger.
So annoying to have celebs at your finger tips and not be able to do anything about it.

Oh well.
Next year I think I’d just stay at home in London with a bottle of wine, a takeaway and watch it on my telly.
I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, as it was an amazing experience, but the jet lag and frustration of not being able to do my job probably seriously took it’s toll.

Amen.

P Diddy Vs Alan Carr Vs Ashley Cole. Bunfight...

P Diddy might be a egocentric fool...but Alan Carr is a tidy, little funbag. 

I wasn't the only person waiting, in vain, to speak to Diddy.
Toothy funnyman Alan was left hanging in the lurch too.
Exactly what the campest man outside of Lapland is doing at a hip hop hoedown is anyones guess.
However, he did say, "I can hold my own in here tonight, I'm cooler than you think."
Yep, sure you are Alan, sure you are.
I think the look on his face says it all....

Mind you, he was forced to sit with Meg Matthews and Calum Best.
Make of that what you will.





Meanwhile in the other corner lounging at a posh VIP table, stacked with champagne, was Chelsea wide boy Ashley Cole, with his boys. Since last year Ashley's been dating (ie shagging or conveniently getting paped with) Playboy model Kayla Collins. I'm sure his ex wifey Cheryl Cole is ecstatic to know he's bonking a plastic-brained boobalious blonde.
Kayla mnaged to tear herself away from tooth-foss bikinis and wrinkly men to hang out in London with Ashley and Diddy.
However, it all went a bit tits-up for the erotic bunny.
Flash Ash didn't speak to her all night... despite sitting directly oposite her. Instead, he sat texting, constantly, on his phone. Always a true gent.
After a few hours of humiliation Kayla threw a wobbler, when he refused to leave with her, and stormed off home alone.
Conveniently moments later, she declared: "Everyone has blown our relationship out of proportion. I'm enjoying being single and dating. I'm looking for Mr Right".
Which actually translates as..."Ashley's blown me out because I make him look too clever and he thinks that's uncool. So, I'm now going to pretend we were never together in a bid to look less stupid. I'm a Playboy Bunny you know, I could have anyone. P.S I'd come running back if he asked me, or text me, or even gave me a second of his time.)

Meanwhile dirty Ash stayed out with the lads, no doubt looking for Mrs Rightnow... the poor unsuspecting cow.