Thank God The Summer’s Over!

Am so happy to get back to the action after the long days of too much light and laying around, where everyone’s on holiday – or at least pretending they are – so they don’t have to answer emails or actually do anything! 

Why does no one else find summer terminally boring? I guess it may have something to do with the fact I stayed in London this summer (OK, almost, a couple of trips across the Channel don’t count, surely? Anything that can be reached by an airline that has orange or yellow and blue in its logo is not a holiday, as it takes three days to recover from the abuse of the flight.)

There was no lounging on yachts or off to exclusive islands this year, no, not for me. It was stay at home and support hubby through finishing his script, mopping his brow and patting his back. I think being in the same house as a writer is actually much harder then being one (I put this to hubby but for some strange reason he doesn’t agree.)

It’s like listening to someone being tortured:  I just hear these agonized little bursts of noise cutting the thick silence every so often. He is writing a political action movie and you never know what you’re going to get or where he thinks he is. You could walk into the living room with a cuppa tea to be affronted with someone in the middle of a war zone in Iraq. There I am in my platforms just popping out for a quick cocktail and he is in his army fatigues (I promise, it’s no lie, he likes to get into the part!) unshaven for a week looking up at me like I am some kind of mirage in desert. Am not sure he can actually even comprehend, as long as he nods or grunts into his voice recognition headphones I feel safe to leave him, I know that somewhere in the back of his mind he knows who I am and that he is surrounded by people who love him and Al Qaeda are not personally after him.

So, off I trot down Portobello to find any left over human life in Notting Hill after the giant exodus to Harbour Island during those precious few weeks with no ‘school runs.’ The pre-school opposite my house is like a catwalk come afternoon. I often just sit and stare out of the window to watch the yummy mummies/models/designers/whatevers toddling out of their Lexus’ or limos to collect their mini me’s, it’s better than front row seats at Stella McCartney!

God forbid I ever get caught down there during this time of day…I once parked my car unwittingly outside the school gates and as I slumped out on to the pavement in my tracky bottoms and last night’s eyeliner I bumped right into Thandie Newton looking effortlessly more beautiful than should be humanly possible, I was so scared that she might say hello that I threw my keys on the floor so I could look busy and distracted – ie, hide.  Sadly in my panic I hadn’t noticed the grate that I had involuntarily chucked my only car key  into so found myself having to crawl into the damn thing and scrabble around in the muck. As I eventually found it I let out an involuntary whoop and jump up covered in sewage and looking like a mad bin lady just as Thandie came back out with her even more gorgeous offspring, she glances up and instinctively pulls her child a little closer.

Anyway what was my point…ah yes…  the summer is over and the yummy mummies, their armies of staff and grumbling husbands are back to fill the cafes again- and catch up on their ‘very busy’ lives hiring more staff to organize their staff!!!. Thank god it’s over and EVERYONE arrived back at once and wants to celebrate. Hurrah! Hence I had very little sleep and far too much alcohol in the past couple of weeks- stringing a sentence together with more than three words containing four letters is pretty tough…ok, I lie, impossible.

I swear London is run by the Notting Hill Housewives ( NHHW ) if it’s not it damn well should be. They could give Boris a run for his money. That whole bike craze he took credit for, we all know was really started by Laura Bailey. They managed to get New Bond Street closed down a couple of weeks ago for Vogue’ Fashion Night Out and turn every shop into a fountain of champagne and glitter-now that’s a talent!

I admit I couldn’t help but join the fun on this one…running from one store to the next… Dior’s fab sparkling eyes and Liberty Ross on the decks, as a photographer stole us for pics in a black cab (why we all want to squidge into the back of a cab and have a photo snapped I don’t know, but we did!) then dashing over to Stella for another glass of sparkles and an ogle at the weird and the beautiful and still managing to hot foot it to the Natural History Museum, home to Darwin and a lot of dinosaurs including Bryan Ferry (no, I couldn’t quite place who he was either, but all his songs are very familiar and he had the sexiest backing dancers, straight out of the 80’s, he was tres retro and totally cool. And in favour with the NHHW so who are we to argue.)

Then just as I am getting my head back together again and sitting properly on my shoulders, it was The Global Parties charity event on the Orient Express. Raising money for 15 charities including Arc. We are whisked away on a journey through the English countryside, cocooned by the polished Art Deco Marquetry adorning the walls. We are taken back in time as I drag a bunch of characters with me and fill a carriage with the perfect cast for Poirot, dressed in our finest black tie, sipping champers from crystal glasses in the sumptuous decadence of the Orient Express and hoping not to be bumped off.

I have to say I felt quite at home, oh why cant life be like the Orient Express every day. As I glided through the carriages every one was a different party: Katie Melua leading the grown up talking carriage, Stanley Fink celebrating his birthday in a definitely NOT grown up carriage, magicians and bands, and as I wobbled my way back to my own carriage where my merry bunch of revellers were giving our poor waitress a run for her money with how much champers they could consume, a line of drooling Sloane Ranger wives were trying to get their clutches on the dashing James D’Arcy. I fight them off and we dance off into the next carriage and yet another whole new world of adventure…

Main pic : © Simon Howard

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About the author

rosie
Rosie Fellner is an actress and film producer. She was born in Ireland to British parents and moved to Spain at the age of nine where she finished school and ran away with the circus, literally, joining renowned troupe Turbozone! Afterwards she attended college and then drama school in London. She began her professional acting career in the cult TV show THE FAST SHOW alongside guest stars including Johnny Depp. Since then she has continued to entertain audiences through all mediums of performance, TV, film, radio and theatre starring with some of the worlds best loved talent including John Hurt, Geoffrey Rush and Heather Graham. Earlier this year Rosie starred opposite Sean Bean in the first film of the World War 2 trilogy AGE OF HEROES. She has just completed TWO JACKS alongside Sienna Miller, Jacqueline Bisset and Danny Huston and is currently filming NYC indie PATIENT 001 in which she has the starring role. Rosie runs her production company ROSEBUD PICTURES with her husband, Writer/Director Adrian Vitoria, and divides her time between London and New York.

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2 Comments for Everything’s Rosie

Kyla

At laaaast! God ive missed Rosie’s bloging so badly, pleeease keep it coming i need at least weekly dose! XXXX

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adrian vitoria

this girl is funny!!! love it keep it coming.

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