Nouvelle Boudoir

I haven't decorated my bedroom since I was 15. It was, to say the least, looking a little scruffy...Very beautiful and pink but scruffy. And with me being eight years older than the last time it was decorated, I think my bedroom needs to grow up a bit too. So I've given it a massive overhaul and it looks INCREDIBLE and I am REALLY happy with it!

So long Venice, and thanks for all the fish.

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Glastonbury Baby!!

It's the event I have been waiting for since October last year, it'll probably be the highlight of my summer, it's the most epic amount of fun, messiness and music that could ever be conceived in Somerset, it's the place where everyone is perpetually blissful. Most importantly it's the time I get to spend six days without washing and drink alcohol in the morning without condemnation and eat as much falafel, hog roast, chinese and bacon sarnies as I can without vomming....

......AND IT'S ONLY 2 WEEKS AWAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Excited doesn't even begin to describe it.

CLICK TO SEE
FULL LINE-UP

I am totally looking forward to the following acts, live recordings of them for your viewing pleasure below. I imagine I will dance like a maniac to Chemical brothers, sway and smile to Crystal Fighters, folk jig to Mumford and Songs and sob uncontrollably before, during and after Beyonce.

Anyway, enough of looking to the future. My head should be in the present. I only have 4 days of Venice left instead of 11. Through some unfortunate miscommunication between myself and the school, I only have accommodation and school until Friday instead of until next Friday, which is when I thought I was leaving. Typical me. Will I ever stop being a twat? It seems not. Who knows what happened but we've all come out with eggy red faces. And I can't stay on for that extra week now as my bedroom has already been reserved! So I've changed my flight and am heading home on the 10th June, ready for a summer of fun and antics. Excellent.

Just four days.....can you believe??! It's all gone by bloody quickly - and I have so much sight-seeing to do still. Better get the guidebook out, the camera in hand and the jaunts organised.

Get Stuffed...

I definitely could have thought of a better post title for a taxidermist artist. That is totes super lame.

Anyway. After a bit of gentle pestering, Polly Morgan agreed to let me help set up her Biennale exhibition 'Burials' because I was in Venice and wouldn't stop emailing her and she is very kind. It was literally the best day of my life. Most of my time was spent squeezed into perspex boxes, sweating like a gorilla and trying to remove dust particles from the inside corners, a particularly frustrating job as the dust came back in once I had prized myself out. But I have never been more content! My future profession will have to be cleaning dust particles from perspex boxes for taxidermist artists.

Some photos of the exhibition....

The lovely Polly

I went to the private view a few days later and, on a massively whimsical whim, I decided to buy something. It is called 'Still Birth' and I think it is beautiful. Photo of it is below. Only one of 10 made, how bloody exciting is that?!?! Pride of place in my bedroom when I get home.

Biennale Party Centraaaaalll!!!

So we've come to the end of the exhibits and pavilions opening week of the Biennale. Is there such a thing as having too much fun? I've had a whole week filled with non-stop parties, rahs, artists, bellinis, free food, expensive clothes, fabulous fashion, bellinis, secret finds, good times, face lifts, prosecco and bellinis. If only it never had to end. This is the life.

Here are my four favourite days of this week. Just be warned - lots of pictures in this post!

DAY 1  Opening of Anish Kapoor's exhibit 'Ascension' and the exhibits 'Real Venice' and 'Penelope's Labour' on Isola di San Giorgio Maggiore.
I made a complete prat of myself in front of Alastair Sooke, my future husband (when cloning becomes possible) as I got a bit too excited from the quantity of prosecco and mini cheese tarts I had consumed. I stumbled up to him, voice shaking, cheeks burning and told him gushingly that he is my idol. I even think the words "Thank you for talking to me Mr. Sooke" were said. No one marries a fan! Even if they are just a clone. Balls. However I redeemed myself with Grayson Perry and we chatted away about the brilliance of the English sense of humour. Once you get over the fact he dresses as a china doll, he is very very cool. I'm jealous of myself.

THE PEOPLE

           

Grayson Perry

           

Anish Kapoor

           

Alastair Sooke (mega cute!!)

THE ART

Anish Kapoor installation in San Giorgio Maggiore - giant indoor tornado! 

Very graphic Grayson Perry tapestry

Close up of tapestry. The devil is in tea and biscuits and saucy knickers apparently.

DAY 2   Opening of Palazzo Grassi exhibition 'The World Belongs to You'. Palazzo Grassi is owned by François Pinault, who also owns Gucci and Christie's Auction House, amongst many other things and whose son is married to Salma Hayek. Although I did not spot either of these people or any of the artists exhibiting, I was scuffling like a dirty commoner amongst them. This, in my opinion, is still excellent. I am again jealous of myself.

THE ART

This bit of art is ridiculous but amazing. It sprawls over the whole three floors of the palazzo, twining around the stairs, creeping across the floor like something from Jumanji crossed with Willy Wonka crossed with Early Learning Center. Fabbo.

'Contamination' by Joana Vasconcelos

DAY 3  Far too many proseccos and bellinis and strawberries and cherries at the opening of the American Pavillion at the Guggenheim and far too many face lifts, lip fillers and people dripping in money - the elite of New York's art scene and me, match made in heaven...Followed by more bellinis at Corner Pub with the Gugg Crew. Followed by private night-time tour of the bamboo tower structure next to the Guggenheim, treacherous and slippery climb to the top and incredible view of Canale Grande, bloody fantastic. Followed by gatecrashing Guggenheim interns' summer party and drinking even more prosecco and bellinis. No photos were taken this evening as I was far too inebriated. But I am still grinning like a cheshire cat with the memories!


DAY 4   Opening of Polly Morgan 'Burials' at Workshop Arte Contemporanae. Opening of Elena Hill's, ArtSway's and Arnolfini Gallery's exhibit 'To The River' by Sophy Ricket. Opening of Barry X Ball at Ca' Rezzonico.

THE ART

Seperate post about Polly Morgan to come as she is beyond the realms of cool. Sophy Rickett does video installations so no photos of that. But photos of Barry X Ball, which were beautiful sculptured heads in a stunning 17th century palazzo. Woop.

So all in all, I would have to conclude that there is definitely not such a thing as having too much fun. Where there's a bellini, there's a way.

I ♥ Summer

This t-shirt represents everything that I ♥ love ♥ about summer and everything that I'm very much looking forward to doing this summer.
Apart from short shorts and hot pants. I just don't have the legs.

Summer List Boyfriend Tee by Illustrated People

Some Venetian Graffitti.

This is a fifteenth century carving of a man in a turban running through the streets holding a heart. It has a BRILLIANT story attached to it. I will recount.

"A Venetian lady had a baby by a Turkish Jew. The baby boy grew up with his father and dressed in Turkish fashion but often visited his adoring mother. Being half Venetian and half Jewish, the boy was an outcast from both communities and so struggled to find an identity. This caused him to develop a seriously violent temper and he regularly beat his mother, who always forgave him out of endless maternal love.
One evening, in a surge of rage, he completely lost control of himself and stabbed his mother repeatedly before tearing her heart from her chest. On realising what he had done, he was stricken with horror and ran off through the streets still clasping the bleeding heart in his fist. He reached the bridge next to the hospital, tripped on the first step and the heart flew out of his hands. Legend has it that the heart uttered the words, "Have you hurt yourself, my son?" [WHAT??!!!!] The son then ran off, threw himself in the lagoon and drowned.
The whole scene unfolded in front of an old stone cutter and it made such an awful impression on him that he scratched the image of the young Turkish man holding his mother's heart on the nearest wall."


Bloody marvellous.

Beach Times!

Venice is sublimely hot and sunny at the moment so the Gugg Girls and I took maximum advantage and went to the beach on the lovely island of Sant'Erasmo. Only after they locked themselves and their bags out of their flat of course...
The island looks like it belongs in the south of France or Tuscany, lots of vineyards and flower meadows and vespas. Whilst sunbathing, we were treated to a little song and dance recital by an Italian stallion in tight red speedos. He was clearly unaware that his boat was in full view of everyone on the beach as he unashamedly cracked out a dance routine that would have put the Spice Girls to shame. If only I hadn't been laughing so much, I would have recorded it.

Whistful Flora

Summery Madeleine

A Che Guevara tattoo AND a Chairman Mao tattoo? I think someone may be a little bit Communist...
The best bit about this photo is Madeleine in the background

Come fly with me? Best not.

Having had several trips in the last two months back and forth from Venice, I have many an aeroplane related anecdote to share, horrific and hilarious. Today I experienced one of the most memorable of my life so I thought I would share my most favourite flight memories from the last few months.

Flight 1: For five journeys, I have taken my very expensive Clinique face wash in my hand luggage with no problems; it always seemed to be classed outside the liquids limitation. Yet when my suitcase went through the scanner, two jobsworths exchanged triumphant looks. I got the impression that both were a couple of scotch eggs short of a picnic. One was dangerously cross-eyed. The other had orthopaedic shoes. My bag was searched and my brand new unopened Clinique face wash was removed. As I vehemently protested, Jobsworth No. 1 peered at me (and simultaneously peered in the opposite direction) and whined nasally, "No need to get hormonal with me. Those are the rules." I am ashamed to say that I responded rather unreasonably with, "You fucking retarded prick!" It just slipped out....

Flight 2:  We were on the runway, at top speed, just before take off, and the air hostesses were full swing into their safety demonstration. As they were indicating where the exits were, the pilot unexpectedly performed a powerful emergency brake. Every passenger went at high-speed head first into the seat in front of them while most of the air hostesses managed to grab hold of a seat. Apart from one. She went flying down the aisle landing on her arse in a spectacular heap. I did try to contain my laughter but it was difficult. I don't think I have ever laughed as hard yet silently in my life. The airhostess seemed to be quite befuddled by this experience as later on, having been asked what flavour sandwiches were on offer, she replied, "We have ham and cheese. Or cheese and ham." This was met with confused silence.

Flight 3: On my first flight to Venice our pilot, Shane carelessly mentioned that we couldn't fly yet because between him, the second pilot and the co-pilot they "couldn't seem to get the numbers right" and "were having a spot of bother with the buttons and things." Those are direct quotes. You could see a whole plane full of people turning around to stare in horror at each other. What does he mean he can't get the numbers right?? Surely he knows what those buttons are for?! Is this really a qualified pilot?!?!?! Once we had finally got into the air, Shane didn't manage to shake the impression of incompetency due to his inability to fly the plane smoothly. Up and down, wings shuddering, rocking side to side for the entire flight, all passengers turning green.

Flight 4: The queue was packed full of families with young children so I was already dreading the flight. I was forced to take a seat in front of a couple with three small children. One of their children sitting behind me played hop scotch with the back of my seat. Another screamed continually until she was purple in the face. Another smelt as if she had chronic diarrhoea. I only avoided vomiting by covering my head with my blazer. After 10 minutes, I started to feel claustrophobic so removed said blazer. To my horror, I found the baby's reeking diarrhoea filled nappy filling my vision as her father started bouncing her squishy arse on my head. This coupled with the screaming and the kicking completely tipped me over the edge. I grabbed all my stuff and ran shuddering and gagging to the opposite end of the plane.

On a different note, the following link is an absolute gem. The funniest complaint about flying in the whole world.

http://up.edesignuk.com/files/1/Documents/Acrobat/virginaircomplaint.pdf 

Everybody likes a bit of mustard Richard. Jesus Christ.

A Very Happy Song

I am officially and irreversibly in love with Crystal Fighters ♥ 
I definitely would say without doubt that their album will be the soundtrack to my entire summer. I am very much looking forward to seeing them at Glastonbury - Chaberfield and Bolton, I am not taking no for an answer. This song never fails to put a smile on my face. Enjoy!