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| Head pupils: O'Dowd and O'Porter |
To the basement of an art gallery in trendy London's trendy East trendy London (is that enough trendies?). The walls were white, and ready to be graffitied, for it was the launch of Dawn O'Porter's teen novel,
Paper Aeroplanes, which is set in the 90s. 1994 was the year of my musical awakening, so I was mightily pleased to hear Greenday's
Dookie on the soundtrack; accompanied by Wotsits, Wham bars and rosé champagne we all got down to merrily defacing the wall with felt tip pens. I kept fearing that the headmaster would walk round the corner and bust me (my inner goodie goodie) so wrote some Catullus; alas such was the exuberance of the night that I got it slightly wrong, which I suppose is what a graffiti artist would do anyway. It was pleasing to see so many Romani eunt domuses, though.
Also eating Wotsits was O'Porter's husband, Chris O'Dowd, proudly sporting a Head Boy badge. The singer Kate Nash was present, looking remarkably gothic; the tv presenter Cherry Healey, wearing some very large glasses; Derren Brown's boyfriend, who allegedly drew a penis on the wall and then left.
The book comes out in May: it's a touching, truthful tale of becoming a teenage girl. There was a copy of Cosmopolitan and a tampon in the goody bag. Not quite my target market, but I'm sure there will be loads of girls out there who'll find much to enjoy. Now, excuse me, I've got to meet someone behind the bike shed. Someone's selling Wotsits on the cheap.
