Origins of a lost weekend

Fortnum & Mason No I did not eat here, I would love to one day when I have won the lottery. It is a classic stop off for lunch.
As a student I used to sit at the Fountain Bar just to soak up the atmosphere, such a beautiful place.
On to Cork Street....


Kwon Kisoo at Flowers

I wrote this one down and then left my note book at home, can I remember? No, I really like the large scale of the drawings.

A really brilliant photography exhibition at this gallery

Just before going into see the Lisa Milroy exhibition I caught sight of this exhibition opposite at The Medici Gallery. I have been aware of Elaine Pamphilon's work from various visits to Cornwall, but the small works on display here were far better than her landscapes. I love the way she is able to create a very intimate feel to her still lifes by scraping the paint off and drawing back into her images. I am a canvas girl and tend to layer the paint over a period of years sometimes so I admire the immediacy of this way of working.

Of course this one was my favourite, so beautifully evocative. The gallerina told me with a smile after we had chatted about the work that Emma Thompson had bought this one. So Miss Thompson I may be paying you a night time visit! This painting should be mine.

I also love the way she mixes image and text.

After this I stepped out into the pouring rain and schlepped up Bond Street to Fenwicks. I pressed my nose against the window of Russell & Bromley to look at their gorgeous tomato red Desert Boots. But standing in the rain they looked as useful as a chocolate fire guard.

The lady on the Estee Lauder counter was a dream, I came away with my moisturiser and a sample of eye cream and a weeks worth of some miracle serum.

I really wanted some tights but Falke were charging £17 for their 100 denier, which if 'accidentally' taken by Daisy would break my heart so I went across to M&S instead and bought some lovely black cotton ones as well as a wonderful tomato red pair and these stripy monsters.

My sister had booked a table at Arbutus. (as we could not as usual get one at Terroirs.)I have always fancied the sister restaurant Wild Honey but my sister is an avid user of public review forums and she said it was continuing to get poor reviews whilst Arbutus was still getting good ones.

It was just brilliant. Surprisingly it was half empty, I guess the local media types are hurtling towards the Oxfordshire countryside in their Range Rover's on a Friday night. Also I think the one draw back of this place is the decor. It lacks the grandeur of The Wolseley or the quirky charm of Andrew Edmonds. Instead it has a kind of Kelly Hoppen feel to it. Hoppen's interior decoration style is a bit like Clive Owens acting, it tends to suck the life out of all it touches. My advise would be to create a better ambiance.

Now had I gone home I would not have lost my weekend, but no, my bloody sister insisted we go to a bar where a work colleague was leaving. I would have happily had one more glass of wine, but no, She decided at the price of a glass we might as well get another bottle, oh joy. I finally tripped through my front door at gone 11pm. Only to be met by Emin holding the dog lead.

If I had known he would refuse to walk feed or generally look after the dog in anyway I would never agreed to get one I was back up at 7.30am to walk the dog again after washing the floor after he had as usual pissed (the dog, not Emin) in the night and having washed his bed again. Our electricity bill since we had this dog is astronomical. I am often greeted at the door by Emin exclaiming that no one fed the dog today" Yet Emin will have been at home all day, as he is most days yet he will quite happily not feed him but wait for someone else to do it.

I finally snapped this weekend and was told that since Daisy did not lift a finger to help then neither would he. I could go on and elaborate but life is too short. So I the one who really did not want a dog ends up it's primary carer.

I spent the rest of the weekend cursing my weakness at saying no to that last glass, nursing quite frankly the biggest eff off hangover I have had since the millennium.

THANK YOU LUCY thats 48 hours I will never see again!