For the last few months I’ve been playing the waiting game. Originally, the film I was going to work on planned to shoot at the beginning of September. Here we are a month later and pre-production only begins next week. As seems to be the case with almost every film going, there are delays. An actor pulls out. The finance collapses. But if it’s really lucky, the project eventually makes it from script to screen.
The result of playing the waiting game has in part lead me to go out a little too much, thinking each week will be my last for having time to see friends.
Last weekend, I headed to Bourne and Hollingsworth on Charlotte Street with two girlfriends. It’s a prohibition style bar that’s in a space the size of a standard living room. Tables line the walls, and there’s a small dancefloor. The feel is intimate, secret. The clientelle are generally in their mid twenties to early thirties who head to this den for a cheeky after work drink or great saturday night out. The best part? The gin, cucumber cocktails served in a china tea cup, accompanied by a cucumber sandwich. Heaven. After the cab we’d ordered never showed up, we opted for a tuk tuk from Green Park to Bayswater (a first for all of us). We chatted in the back, laughing our way through the freezing cold temperatures, as our poor driver huffed and puffed up front.
A night at The Box a few evenings later was equally fun. The shows were as good as ever, and I left with extreme leg envy after passing a dancer whose thighs came higher up than my belly button (and I’m 5ft 9). The next evening I found myself at a private party at Annabel’s, a venue which some call a predecessor to The Box. As a friend and I arrived we were handed glasses of champagne and then mingled before dinner. The event was a who’s who of the London social scene. And the London social scene seems to have a lot of Botox, collagen and Chanel handbags, sandwiched in between a few unexpected faces like Bennedict Cummberbatch (a friendly charmer). Sitting down to dinner, we were plied with wine and delicious food. As the chocolate souffle’s were placed before us, Paolo Nutini took to the stage and wowed us with his vocals and charged stage presence. Throughout dinner it became clear that almost everyone was looking around to check out who else was there, or at least to check out who was checking them out. It’s an interesting experience to be utterly invisible in a room full of people, to watch the guests working the room. It was a welcome comfort to go to a friend’s houseparty the following night, where everyone’s faces were mobile and animated in the pursuit of fun rather than ambition.
I ended the week with a slightly sore head, and a few blisters I hadn’t had before. I graduated in June and I’m really gunning to start working, and to start using my brain (which at the moment has been shamefully engrossed in the Game Of Thrones novels). This sunday, I spent a rainy day inside researching Mary Shelley for a new short film. Now, with all the research completed, I’m aiming to try and write it this week before I start work on Monday. But starting is always the hardest part. And perhaps that’s why I’m writing on here procrastinating. But it did feel nice to get my old braining working again.
Yours,
Olivia
