Hangovers, pigs hearts and acupunture. Could it get any weirder??
DAWN O'PORTER : 12 SEPTEMBER 2010
I just found this post one an old site of mine. Thought it was quite funny and thought I would re post it! Must have been from about two years ago….
My oh my, what a horrendous day I had today. This is a totally unsophisticated story I am going to tell. Brace yourselves!
I was out last night in Soho Town, with a couple of great friends. We were downing shots, dancing on tables and having a sing song. Perfect! Such a great idea at the time, a total hoot!
Next thing I know I wake up on my bed, FULLY clothed. Pink Miu Miu’s and bouffant still firmly in place. It was 9.15am, and the only reason I woke up was because the buildings fire alarm went off.
Lucky that, as my car was already outside waiting to take me to The Daily Mail for a photo shoot.
I still had all my make up on from the night before, I STANK of whiskey, my hair looked like Russell Brands, and I literally collapsed every time I stood up. It wasnt very pretty at all, and the idea of a camera in my face made my brain itch.
I grabbed a dress and crawled down to my car.
My cabby was really sweet. Thank God. I explained my predicament and he had lots of sympathy. He said ‘Its OK love, I will look after you!’ but when I asked him to pull over as we were driving through Hyde Park, he drew the line at holding my hair back while I vomited all over the cycle path.
It get’s worse…
I arrived at The Daily Mail headquarters, walked into the studio, and retched when I saw that for some unfortunate reason there was a vacuum packed pigs heart on the coffee table. I mean, when do I EVER feel like that? when do I EVER feel like that and have to do a photo shoot? When do I EVER feel like that, have to have a photo shoot, and get presented with a big bloody heart??
It get’s even worse..
I could hardly see, I felt so sick that I was scared to breath, I looked disgusting and I also seemed to have a small bout of paranoia to deal with…
Then this guy, I still dont know where he came from, sat me down, unwrapped a little packet of needles, stuck one in my head, one in each hand and one in each foot. Acupuncture, apparently? Only one problem, I HATE NEEDLES!!.
I have seen acupuncture done a lot, but I never actually thought they literally dug needles into your skin. It hurt! And I bled, and it didnt take my hangover away.
It was so weird. I couldnt work out how I turned up to a photo studio, and suddenly had 5 needles hanging out of my body. I mean, WHAT WAS HE DOING THERE??
Then I had my make-up done. The make-up artist was so funny. We laughed so much it was hard to get the stuff on my face. Thank God for her. I think she saved my life. She also fed me crisps. Salt and Vinegar squares. Maybe it was those that saved my life.
It was time for the shoot. Snap snap snap and it was over. I got changed and crawled to my taxi.
… not quite…
The driver decided to drive right through central London. The traffic was terrible and we were stopping and starting the whole way. Did I mention I get motion sickness at the best of times? I was going crazy. We were on Park Lane, and I felt it again. More sick. Oh MY GOD, I was about to throw up in broad daylight, at lunch time, in glamorous Mayfair.
For the second time that day I asked my driver to stop while I vomited like a drunk teenager in Hanover Square (now to be known only as, Hangover Square). All this time I was wearing massive sunglasses, and holding my hands in front of my face, in case anyone recognised me.
Oh the shame!
I got home and I sat still, scared to move for three hours before I ate a massive plate of meatballs.
It is nearly bed time and I still dont feel better
I am never drinking again. And I bloody mean it this time!
They didn’t use the pictures.
Two years later, and it looks like I will never learn!