I arrived late at Horse Bar in glamorous Waterloo to discover that the effortlessly beautiful Betsy Bliss was already ordering drinks for the rest of The Rebel Rebels. “I’ll have a Hendricks and tonic”, I chirped, after embracing my good friend warmly and complimenting her on her gorgeous new Westwood frock. Then I rushed over to see the rest of the girls and catch up on all their news.
The five of us met a few years ago and, in no time at all, had vowed to wow the London burlesque scene with our unique comedic talents by forming a cabaret group and hosting our own shows. With five successful Rebel Rebels nights behind us, we were busily making plans for the sixth – a splendid summer seaside romp at one of our favourite venues. Betsy brought the drinks over to our booth and we began to plot.
Little Miss Naughty is the most organised member of the group and I really don’t know what we’d do without her. Quicker than you could say ‘my sugar daddy paid for this but I’m so not going to sleep with him’, she whipped her MacBook Air out of her purple ostrich Birkin bag and started checking dates for rehearsals and emailing potential support acts. Despite the need for such things, I was also keen to catch up with what my dear friends had been doing since we last met, and so I enquired about Honey Schnapps latest gentleman friend.
“We had a wild night,” she replied, with a naughty glint in her eye. “He’s quite… alternative. Apparently he attends some rather naughty parties where he once saw a friend have a threesome with people she’d not even met before!” She stroked her Cartier pendant thoughtfully as she recalled the second-hand description of the x-rated event. “I wonder if he could get us an invite to the next one,” I asked curiously, before the ever efficient Little Miss Naughty called our attention back to the task at hand. After all, this show wasn’t going to plan itself and we could continue with the gossip once our tasty home-cooked Thai food arrived.
After much debate over the content of our next group act – which will definitely not be inspired by Honey’s friend’s shenanigans – More More Kensington rose to slink to the bar in her Louboutins and get us another round of drinks, asking us all to check if her fully-fashioned seams were straight as she stood. We may all lead outrageously exciting lives, but a girl can’t forget the truly important things whilst she does so.
In case you’re wondering, this (mostly fictional) piece is Miss Lolly Pops‘ tribute to Millicent Binks, the London Evening Standard’s “sex columnist”. The image at the top of the post is via Michael Shehan Obeysekera‘s Flickr photostream.
Awww, it's fictional? But you managed to use the word “splendid” outside of the 1950s and everything!
…and still waaaay more interesting to read than she who shall not be named đŸ˜‰
My turn my turn
HaaaaaaaaHaaaaaaaaHaaaaaaaa
Blog description Hint of Style? A 40 year old overweight women with tacky bunchs and an even lamer burlesque career as her cover picture? Um, OK then…
The clearly distressed green eyed beast even goes to the time to rip millicents columns apart, but has clearly studied it so well she knows all the stories- One could assume it was her tribute, but the title says it all, why you should all love my life….whilst her pathetic attempt hints blandly about why hers is a pile of boring shite!
Isnt it funny how in life, bitches come in 2 types? Naomi campbell, tall strong, sexy and you understand a tad when she pulls a diva fit- then theres this old lolly poppy poo poo with her elegant name and even sexier image having a gripe whilst trying to promote herself in some obscure ways…..
she'll prob write something about this too whilst staring wistfully at Binks' pictures which shes so carefully collected and pinned up on her flat wall, and her can of slimfast still sitting behind it just dying to be opened, woohoo christmas is not too far away…oh but then I forogt shes a SERIOUS, FEMINIST writer ya?
Oh Anonymous, how spectacularly you miss the point đŸ™‚
Dear God, there's so much venom in Anonymous's post I need to lie down. Why you would take time to think about, let alone pen such vulgarities is beyond me. But then I have better things to do with my time than anonymously commenting on someone's blog I can't stand. For shame.