Yesterday I was at the GQ Awards. Obviously I wasn't a guest: I was in prime people watching position. When you work at these things, even if you are standing somewhere very obvious, you are mainly invisible. Understandably so?
They are just so weird, these celebrity events. Shiny people walk in, look sultry for the camera, air kiss the cameraman, then answer questions about their outfit and man crush. Free drinks, a meal. Then the awards, which over-run by an hour because no one can stop mentioning the nazis.
Then I go home.
My first job was red carpet watch (if that is a job). People, I was in smelling distance of Eddie Redmayne, Michael Douglas, Noel Gallagher, Pharrell Williams, Samuel L. Jackson... I did not recognise them all. Far from it. But this started a game.
People who I recognised immediately: Emma Watson, Claudia Winkleman, Russell Brand.
People who I thought I'd met before: Matt Smith.
People who I couldn't remember the name of but knew immediately because they look just like my friend Abi: my friend Abi's brother. I would have loved to tell him to say hi to her from me but a) that would be a bit weird, b) we weren't allowed to let the famouses know we existed.
People who's names I heard later and hadn't recognised at all: Rosie Huntington-Whitley, Rita Ora, Ellie Goulding.
People I thought looked like I should know them and I probably should have if I had any ounce of cool: the man from The Who, Wilko Johnson...this is difficult because I still don't know their names.
People whose lackies are very rude and make furious gestures for me to move out of the way lest I offend the great man's eyes: Elton John.
People who actually seem quite nice and say hello to you: Elton John.
Yep. I just did a blow by blow of who I saw. What a name-dropper eh?
So there was the red carpet. A place to look chic, to show the world that you are friends with Justin Timberlake. A place to only smile when there wasn't a camera pointed at you.
And then there was my second location, smoker's terrace.
Humans are so odd. I often think this about stuff we do: walking on two legs, hair, hands and feet, exercising in front of the telly.
But I mean, places like this seem so much like a watering hole. But instead of sipping water in the cooling shade of an oasis, people smoke and sip champagne and compliment each other on their dresses. But they suddenly don't look like famous people. They look like an office party, which is essentially what these things are, no?
So why so people find them so fascinating? They weren't even very interesting. I know, I heard a lot of speeches. The only vaguely exciting moment was Russell Brand making a joke about Hugo Boss dressing the nazis very elegantly; and every third speech after condemning him for it.
Oh and Elton John gave his award to Wilko Johnson. That was nice.
So that's what I did yesterday. I grew bored by some people. Standard day at work really, except that I wasn't allowed to sit down.
They are just so weird, these celebrity events. Shiny people walk in, look sultry for the camera, air kiss the cameraman, then answer questions about their outfit and man crush. Free drinks, a meal. Then the awards, which over-run by an hour because no one can stop mentioning the nazis.
Then I go home.
My first job was red carpet watch (if that is a job). People, I was in smelling distance of Eddie Redmayne, Michael Douglas, Noel Gallagher, Pharrell Williams, Samuel L. Jackson... I did not recognise them all. Far from it. But this started a game.
People who I recognised immediately: Emma Watson, Claudia Winkleman, Russell Brand.
People who I thought I'd met before: Matt Smith.
People who I couldn't remember the name of but knew immediately because they look just like my friend Abi: my friend Abi's brother. I would have loved to tell him to say hi to her from me but a) that would be a bit weird, b) we weren't allowed to let the famouses know we existed.
People who's names I heard later and hadn't recognised at all: Rosie Huntington-Whitley, Rita Ora, Ellie Goulding.
People I thought looked like I should know them and I probably should have if I had any ounce of cool: the man from The Who, Wilko Johnson...this is difficult because I still don't know their names.
People whose lackies are very rude and make furious gestures for me to move out of the way lest I offend the great man's eyes: Elton John.
People who actually seem quite nice and say hello to you: Elton John.
Yep. I just did a blow by blow of who I saw. What a name-dropper eh?
So there was the red carpet. A place to look chic, to show the world that you are friends with Justin Timberlake. A place to only smile when there wasn't a camera pointed at you.
And then there was my second location, smoker's terrace.
Humans are so odd. I often think this about stuff we do: walking on two legs, hair, hands and feet, exercising in front of the telly.
But I mean, places like this seem so much like a watering hole. But instead of sipping water in the cooling shade of an oasis, people smoke and sip champagne and compliment each other on their dresses. But they suddenly don't look like famous people. They look like an office party, which is essentially what these things are, no?
So why so people find them so fascinating? They weren't even very interesting. I know, I heard a lot of speeches. The only vaguely exciting moment was Russell Brand making a joke about Hugo Boss dressing the nazis very elegantly; and every third speech after condemning him for it.
Oh and Elton John gave his award to Wilko Johnson. That was nice.
So that's what I did yesterday. I grew bored by some people. Standard day at work really, except that I wasn't allowed to sit down.
No comments:
Post a Comment