Why?
The Lansdowne of Primrose Hill is an institution of sorts. It's one of a set of destination pubs which, on account of their location, operate as locals for the rowdier factions of the celeb classes - and, more importantly, my friend Piers. So, I arranged to meet him at the Lansdowne one Thursday night, which is when things got really interesting ...
In what way?
Well, firstly Cocktail Girl was recognised by one of the bar team, which sent her into a flurry of puffed up excitement. (Happily, the recognising incident was not followed with a barrage of abuse. I've got no idea why, but it appears that some factions of the Food Monthly-reading public are not big fans of the CG's work. Curious, no?) But then a celebrity of such incredible magnitude walked into the joint, that Piers and I were forced to abandon all plans to talk, and were forced instead to come over a bit stalk-y and eavesdropp-y.
Who? Who?
Easy now. Let me set the scene. The Lansdowne is a big, L-shaped and wooden space, furnished with mismatching furnishings which give it an air of dilapidated insouciance - although of course everything on the premises has been styled up with incredible care. It's got the kind of fire one could only ever describe as 'roaring'. It's got quirky staff, a good wine list, and does excellent pizza.
Yeah, yeah. Now. Give me a name.
Jason Freakin' Orange! Of Take That! I spotted him first. I was mid flow when L'Orange swans into the pub, quite as if he wasn't the most exciting thing I have ever seen with my own bare eyes! I stumbled over my words momentarily, but attempted to keep on track in the name of being cool. But then Piers spotted him too. I could tell because all the colour drained from his face.
Jason ... Orange?
Yes! My second fave after Howard Donald! He's holding up OK, too. Yes, the ravages of time and a pop star lifestyle have left him a little battered around the edges, but still, he is definitely not without hotness. Piers and I did the sensible thing, and followed him and what appeared to be his date upstairs, to the restaurant-y bit.
Jason ... Orange?
You're as delighted as I was, I can tell. Now, we didn't have any reservations, but the restaurant gods were smiling on us that night and not only did we score a table, but it was right next door to Orange's! Obviously, that inhibited us slightly in the eating department - all we could do was giggle uncontrollably and try to eavesdrop on Jason's conversation. That was ineffectual, sadly, because Jase's speaking voice is pitched slightly below that registered by the average human being. Still. We sat in his presence, for like, an entire hour!
Aren't you impressed?
No. I was hoping for Madonna.
· The Lansdowne, 90 Gloucester Avenue, London NW1. 020 7483 0409
