Nancy Dell'olio, Grog and Sandalwood.

A few weeks ago I was having a very silly conversation with my always entertaining chum the art dealer. We were talking about crushes. I have an almost uncontrollable weakness for women with lovely dark hair and fiery temperaments. We discussed a few of my unwise crushes including Ms Winehouse (now out of favour of course) and I mentioned that I had a bit of a crush on Nancy Dell'olio a few years ago. I even once tried to get her phone number off her agent while drunk at a party. This caused roars of laughter and I thought no more of it.

Last night I worked the circuit of a few bashes. I started off in Mahiki to meet a chum and to hopefully properly meet her lovely sister who I have been longing for a few weeks for in a 'writing her name on my pencil case' sort of way.

Sadly I went to the wrong part of Mahiki and only bumped into my chum after drinking far too much grog (yes actual grog) and I could only stay for a short while before I had to zoom off to the next thing. Her sister hadn't arrived by the time I left so I suppose I'll have to just carry on writing her name in the margins of my Geography homework for now.

I whizzed over to meet the Art Dealer, who was dressed magnificently and with her new P.R, whom she shares with Nancy Dell'olio. I was introduced as

'This is Louche, ooh he fancies Nancy, you should set them up'

I worked on generating an award winning blush while the P.R. actually did text her client and even took a photo of me when she thought I wasn't looking. Who knows what will happen but I struggle to think of a less manly way to ask someone out.

The next bash was an Art and Film party, hosted by Tod's. Will Young was there and was as charming as always and Agyness Deyn was prancing about too. Although the poor lamb seemed to have a bit of a dickey stomach as she had to keep nipping to the loos with a friend and when she came out again she had the sniffles. Bless.

The party was quite good, they didn't hold back on the champagne and some poor lady was furiously shucking oysters so people could gobble them down but the crowd was strange and no-one really knew why they were there.

After a few drinks we ambled over to Shoreditch house so we could sit down and drink a proper cocktail. This was exactly the right sort of thing to do as the Art Dealer was wearing terribly pretty but painful shoes. We set about the cocktails and some how the conversation got to scents.

I wear a custom mixture of scents, based on Sandalwood. I've spent ages getting just the right mix and I think it compliments me quite well, but I've never had the effect it had last night before. The P.R. of my friend had been pleasant enough through-out the evening was completely and utterly enthralled by the scent. It was bizarre she was almost zombified by it, so much so that in the latter stages of the evening she was kissing my cheek on command.

Too much power is dangerous so it seemed wise to leave before anything bad happened. I ended up staying in the spare bedroom of the Art Dealer's flat and slept like a log. One covered in tweed. Her spare bedroom is very amusing, it's her 'naughty room' so it has a bed, and no windows. Sort of like sleeping in a lady-like dungeon.