Lunch with the lovely Lauren Hennessy at Shoreditch House.
Her: cleavage-hugging white blouse and shapely split black skirt with strappy wedges (... gulp.... my memory still troubled by our last meeting).
Me: simple blue cotton shirt showing off my manly chest rug and khaki trousers from John Rocha.
Recently returned from LA, she wasted no time in giving me a hug and saying, "Darling, the press dislike you because you're so delightfully young and brilliantly successful."
I give a shrug. I'm hurt and she can tell.
"Listen sweetie, you really need to focus on what's important. Image. Why don't you follow the example set by the LA media movers and shakers...."
I'm all ears.
It turns out ALL the top US network presidents, VPs and senior VPs are shunning Sunset Tan for something a little bit more risqué:
'The Ben Silverman'
"What the fuck is The Ben Silverman?" I ask
She rolls her eyes, "That's when you pluck all your pubes out and leave only ONE super duper long hair curled around your sausage and beans"
Sausage and beans? Holy crap!! I was not expecting this. I thought she was going to recommend a visit to Saville Row or something...
Lauren tells me in no uncertain terms that to join the Big Fish I must first trim the Little Piranha.
I ambled back to the office, deep in thought, and then immediately got Anthony to book me an appointment at Simon Warwick for a beard trim.
And buy me a Philips Bodygroomer.
Hollywood here I come!
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