Keeping Cool around Celebrities

Change is in the air in London Town - along with the seasonal change, there are exciting things bubbling away in my pipeline that I can't wait to share with you shortly.

For the moment though, perhaps it is time to elaborate on the

EXTREMELY

EXCITING

LIFE EVENT

that happened during the week.

The story starts on Tuesday, when I was innocently scrolling down on my Facebook news feed over eating tomato soup at lunch time and praying not to spill any on my work clothes. It would have been much more sensible to give my soup full attention and finish it before touching my phone, and I was debating whether or not to choose sensibility over living on the edge when something caught my eye. One of my friends had liked a Woolworths status that seemed to be talking about needing Australians for a television commercial featuring Jamie Oliver.

Jamie Oliver, blog readers, is quite possibly one of my favourite chefs and favourite people. If there is anyone who can change the world through cooking, it's him. What a superstar. The Charlton family shared every moment of joy and frustration as he tried to change school lunches in America and the UK, and as he helped kids in trouble have another go at life through his Fifteen programme. Those close to me know that I love nothing more on a quiet Friday night in than picking up one of his gorgeous take home meals from his Recipease store at Clapham Junction and relishing every bite. Hungover Sundays are spent watching repeats of his 15 Minute Meal shows, a particular favourite flatmate bonding activity. Hours have already been spent turning the pages of his new cookbook recently purchased.

You might say I'm a fan.

So when the Woolworths Facebook status caught my eye, all thoughts of soup went out the window and I followed the hyperlink. Jamie Oliver was in need of 300 Australians living in London to help him film his festive-themed commercial for Woolworths. Food and entertainment would be provided for all those willing to give up time to help him out. Wow, thought I. I wish I'd seen this earlier - surely all of the tickets will have been snatched up by now. Yet, the link to the ticket event still worked. And the ability to select a number of tickets still worked. And the link to the confirmation page still worked. And wouldn't you know, I had an email confirmation waiting in my inbox informing me that I had secured two tickets to attend the Jamie Oliver commercial, to be filmed outside his Fifteen restaurant in north London.

Trying to find my ability to speak again, I raced up the stairs and asked if I could speak urgently to my manager about a private matter. Looking startled and concerned, he followed me downstairs and asked whatever was the matter.

"Daniel, can-I-please-leave-a-little-bit-early-from-work-on Friday-afternoon?"
"Yes of course, what is going on?!"
"Are you really sure it's going to be okay?"
"Yes yes, of course. Emma what is the matter?!"
"I'M GOING TO MEET JAMIE OLIVER!!!"
"Oh how exciting! That's really great. By the way, do you realise you have soup on your blazer?"

Bugger. The ruddy soup. Close, but not yet winning at life.

In any case, Friday afternoon came and my friend Danielle and I eagerly huffed our way with Jamie cookbooks in our bags to the filming location. We joined the queue and tried to catch a glimpse of what was happening in the background. A green double decker bus was decorated with Woolworths advertising and tinsel, lights, cameras, bustling activity. What would be awaiting us, we wondered? And wondered. And wondered. For we waited for two hours until finally a familiar voice thanked us for our patience and invited us in. A very familiar voice. JAMIE'S. Ahhhhh!!

We entered and found ourselves in a marketplace-type setting from a hundred years ago. Fairy-lighted stalls offering market food such as pulled pork rolls, meatball burgers, wood-fired pizzas, roasted vegetables and ice cream were all on offer and we simply had to mingle and act normal. Should Danielle and I be seen in the background of the commercial, you will witness us stuffing our faces with such delights.

Jamie was a true gentleman, true to form checking up on how all of his staff were going and turning a blind eye to starstruck fans trying to get sneaky photos of him (such as yours truly). The opportunity to have a photo came so close, until a random old man asked Danielle where to find Jamie Oliver. When she pointed him out just in front of us, the old man proceeded to go up and abuse Jamie for the ruckus he brings to the community. There was a heated argument between the two, with J eventually yelling YOU BORE ME SIR, YOU BORE ME before the gentleman was escorted off the premises. Turning to us audience with mouths wide open, he apologised and explained that this man has been following him and yelling abuse for 11 years now. "He is simply a massive dork, that's all I can say," before moving on and pretending nothing had happened. Legend.

I now have 18 months remaining on my UK visa whereby it is going to be my sole mission to get that photo with Jamie. However, I like to think I'm that one big step closer :)

Lots of love, Em xxx

Squeezing out the End of Summer

Well, it's happening Australian readers. We are about to enter a transition stage whereby my summer photos that have made you all green with envy during your chilly winter days - will now be yours! With Brisbane weather already hitting balmy thirty-something degree weather, I'm sure you won't look back as I look forward to ever decreasing temperatures on the other side of the world.

Living through a European winter has me more than slightly nervous. It has become increasingly apparent that the warm clothes that I brought over from home will be hideously insufficient to get me through the winter with every body part still intact. As I'm rather attached to all of my body parts, I've got no option but to invest in some heavy duty winter clothes.

However, shopping for an unfamiliar season is how I imagine learning to walk on your hands instead of your feet would be like. The weather will be cold, but HOW cold? What if it's cold and WET? How do you manage to layer so that you are warm outside and won't die inside with the intense heating system, without laying so much so that you look like a human snowman?

These are all very valid questions that I have turned to the English public for answers. I.e., I have been staring intently at every female who passes me in the hope that they might impart some of their knowledge on me.

Unfortunately, someone should inform Revlon that they are guilty of fake advertising as "the London look" - ONE London look - does not exist. Instead, there are mixtures of short coats, trench coats, wool coats, puffer jackets, leather jackets, biker jackets, with hoods, without hoods, thick scarves, thin scarves, pants, leggings, skirts and leggings, low boots, riding boots, high heeled hooker boots, beanies, hats... you get the general picture. And for all the clothes that people are wearing now, they are bound to multiply or completely change in a couple of months' time when it gets REALLY cold. And should I  succeed in surviving these major hurdles, I will not be able to fake it until I make it at the French ski fields at Christmas time.

Speaking to local English girls for help and advice, I have been met with blank looks and long pauses. Not because they don't understand what I'm asking, but moreso that they do not know exactly how to answer it. Dressing for the cold is second nature to them as they have grown up with it, just as we have grown up knowing how to dress for the beach. I am facing the prospect of being the winter equivalent of a tourist dressed in socks and sandals on the beach, holding my expensive $1000 camera not knowing the dangers of sand getting in to electrical equipment.

I plan to face this learning curve with a three point multicultural approach - the Australian attitude of "she'll be right, mate", the British custom of hot tea to warm the bones and failing that, then I shall have to turn to the Irish and their liquid comfort of Guinness. Cheers to that!

Love, Em xxx