I'm ill and it's cold and I really begrudge having to walk in the road so that Gok Wan can make bad fashion TV on our doorstep. That's the nasty bastard sitting on my right shoulder, like a little devil telling me my coffee should be skinny.
It’s often the case when hours afterwards you think of the clever things you could have said to a national treasure. I had a similar feeling after a coughing fit in Carnaby street a few years ago. A very kind, tall and skinny chap asked me if I was okay, all I could do was keep coughing until a little bit of phlegm ended up on his cheek – I am sorry Jarvis Cocker…I really am.So anyway – what would I have said to Gok Wan, what is there to say except “Gok you know women better than we know ourselves.” Or, “Please put a belt round my middle, even though you're wrong, it doesn't make me look thinner.” Or, “I WAS FAT TOO! Look after me, please.” Or, “You can’t really call Mango high street can you?” Or, “Why do you make people look like shit?”I think seeing him in the flesh is a little like a menopause.Anyway I hid behind that red van because I couldn’t have him remind me that fake fur coats are awful and that I should really paint my nails again. Fuck him.
