Oh door man!

Firstly before any sort of blog occurs I would like to clear up some confusion. I am not actually Velma, as the right hand side of my blog indicates, I am not in fact married to Mark Ronson (although he has been replaced by Francis Maximilien Yvan Christophe Boulle since he got married to that french tart.) I am not best friends with a cartoon rabbit and Christian Dior did not leave me his family home, and surprisingly enough my name isn't Thursday. This is my blog persona, how depressing to ruin the illusion, but I had to clear that one up after a certain Irish acquaintance of mine was telling everyone about this fabulous pink giant house I own, nah ahh....


Anyway, blog...


Crying into my bowl of chicken supernoodles the night after Halloween and stuffing my face with 3 bags of haribo spooky mix that was bought for trick or treaters but selfishly only put out one bag. On a hungover whim I decide I want to go to London, Chelsea in fact.


I'd been watching made in Chelsea you see (which is never a good idea when you're hanging because you feel like a thoroughly sick disgusting pathetic, poor, peasant of a person.) And all i wanted was a cuddle off Ollie Locke, so I went scarping around for the cheapest 5* luxurious hotel I could possibly find, I had a price range of about £70 for 2 nights.


By about 6'o clock my hangover has worn off and after realising I probably cant get two nights at the Mayfair for £70 and actually I was going up the weekend after for certain 21st so my London plan had fallen through. However in my hungover haze I got to thinking about hotels. If there's no place like home then why are we forking out as much as much as £31,725 a night for hotels. (I might add this is not any ordinary holiday inn but the most expensive room in the world in the Royal Villa, Grand Resort Lagonissi, Athens.)

(most expensive hotel room everrrrrr!!!!)

I have always loved a hotel. Even last weekend I went and stayed in a hotel in Bristol (where I live.) There's something about them that I just find intoxicating. The fact that you can call down to a nice Mr. Man who will happily hop up to your bedroom and grant your every wish, makes you feel like Rapunzel or Cinderella with her Godmother. If I won the lottery I always said I would stay in the most expensive hotel in Paris and get pissed on champagne in Dior and buy something ridiculous and wear it down the street.

(I'm thinking something along the lines of this hair furniture and all)

There is a sense of luxury and adventure and sex floating about the air. You never know who you're going to meet in a hotel and you feel like you're taking on a different persona for a while, no one knows your name, there are no cluttered reminders of mistakes you might have made but instead a beautifully polite blank canvas for you to make some more. If I had a fetish I think it would be for hotels.


I spent that entire evening as a woman obsessed. I'd even decided what I would have to eat if I was staying at the Savoy. One Particularly striking hotel, the Berkeley in Knightsbridge, has gained itself quite a name in the fashion world and so of course Miss. Thursday was in love and it certainly deserves a mention on the old bloggy.

(The pret-a-portea available at the Berkeley)

Any guest staying at the Berkeley can request, completely free, the use of the fashion trunk. This one item made me want to cry, it is a box full of vintage designer accessories from the likes of Dior, Chanel and Lacroix that guests are allowed to PUT ON AND GO OUTSIDE IN!!!!! Well they say it more eloquently than that but oh me oh my how incredible!!!! And frrrrreeeeeee? Sure beats the complimentary ginger biscuits in the Marriott. (The staff are even described as having twinkly eyes, they must hire fairies.)

(The Berkeley fashion trunk)

On my hunt for hotels to write about on the old bloggin I came across some pretty weird ones, all this diversity is making me want to have one of those cool magazine programs where me, Martha Thursday, goes around the world staying in crazy hotels and being filmed sleeping and complaining and being funny then it goes on more 4? Sound good?

(The Dog Park inn Idaho)

So after all this I have been left feeling very depressed and made me think of all things I'm not getting. I'm not getting to live in the Berkeley, more 4 doesn't want me to do a show for them, I've not won the lottery so I'm not going to Paris, I'm not getting my new year trip to Egypt any more and I'm not even getting my hungover planned trip to Chelsea!


But I am going to London, and I am staying in a hotel, and so in an attempt to make it seem like I'm not an ungrateful brat I will dedicate this blog to my friend's 21st birthday (which isn't actually for like over a month) let's be scandalous and use her name, Kari! (never second names though.) I hope this exempts me from getting her a present....


Anyway, as a final word use lastminute Top secret hotels.