Marie Claire Blog Archive

“Please wear smart business dress,” they said. Oh God.

Back in May 2010 I announced – with gay abandon – that I was leaving behind my old career to become a Bohemian Writer instead. I would move to Buenos Aires where I would drift around in bare feet; wearing an assortment of headscarves, eating alternative foods such as silken tofu and giving up consumer crap like make up and fashion. I’d do art and culture and politics. Oh yes I would! It didn’t really happen. I did go to Buenos Aires but there was nothing bohemian or chilled about the way I wrote my first novel. I was manic and I wore Topshop. I drank too much tea and the closest … Continue reading

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Lucy Robinson the Roast Beef

I marched into the brilliantly-named Pentonville Rubber – suppliers of rubber and foam to the furnishing and construction sectors – with a determined look in my eye. It smelled reassuringly industrial and huge lengths of foam were stacked up to the ceiling. “Hello,” said a man who looked rather confused to see a violin-toting woman wearing high heels marching into his shop. (I know. I wear heels about three times a year. Why the feck did I wear them to a rubber shop?) “Hello,” I said carefully. “I need to turn myself into a roast beef. Can you help?” He … Continue reading

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First snogs

How old were you when you had your first snog? With tongues and feelings and Significant Eye Contact? I think I was rather sick as a child. Mine was aged 11. It only occurred to me recently that this was probably quite wrong. In my final year at primary school we developed a game called hostages. Or rather, the boys in my class developed it. I’m not sure if this game had previously existed but if it had, my feeling is that it did not belong in a primary school. Here’s how it worked: 1. Everyone starts off gathered in … Continue reading

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Lucy Robinson is not so bad you know

I was talking to my friend earlier today. She is one of the most disgusting people I’ve ever met. Think you’re talented? Forget it. You’re not. Not next to her anyway. Think you’re creative? Pah! Good-looking? Bad news, my friend! She’s better than you! She is creative, she’s funny, she’s clever and she’s absolutely beautiful too. She is a photographer, designer, blogger, branding consultant, pianist and piano teacher and best of all she’s created this absolutely marvellous children’s brand called Florentine and Pig which is just the most wonderful jumble of cookery, hilarity and creativity in the world. If I was a … Continue reading

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The Man thinks he is dying

The Man is ill. The Man thinks he is dying. The Man is the funniest thing that I have ever seen. Every time I look at him I fall about laughing. He is preposterously bad at being ill. (This photo was taken in happier times. And fyi he was wearing swimming shorts.) The Man’s man flu been going on for a week but here’s a taster, taken just from one day. The Man wakes up. “Oh no,” he says in a small voice. “Oh no. I have to go to the doctor.” He looks helplessly at me, begging me to somehow take this fact … Continue reading

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Hippies one, medicine nil

Festive yule logs, friends! I trust you are all exhausted and fluey and hungover and fed up like everyone else? I’m actually quite well. But in fairness I’ve spent most of the year doubled up on the bog so a little bout of good health seems reasonable. Anyway . . . As Christmas draws near, I have had to face a fact that I can no longer ignore:  I am consumed with longing for a Mulberry handbag. I really really want a Mulberry handbag. If you have one, lock it up because otherwise I will steal it. I can’t tell you which … Continue reading

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The worst best date ever

Hello there chums! I write to you in a minor grump. It’s Sunday night and I have spent the entire weekend humping furniture and other junk around The Man’s flat, rather than stuffing my face with mince pies and jigging around like an excitable Christmas elf like I wanted to. Oh poor little Robinson, drowning under the sheer weight of my material possessions! What a twonk. So. In my last blog I found myself flailing around – rather unexpectedly – in the mad, bad world of internet dating. Not as a dater, mind. I think I’ve served my time there. … Continue reading

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The cesspool

Happy Sunday Friends! I begin this blog with an apology to Colin Thomas who is my friend’s Dad. Colin, I learned this weekend, is a regular reader of this blog, but has complained that I don’t update it regularly enough. Colin, you are right. I’m sorry. I’m back from travelling now, there’s no excuse. Except that I’m really behind with my second novel and I am moving my stuff into The Man’s house and I am an outpatient at ten million clinics and I’m working on hundreds of projects and trying to catch up with everyone and changing my address … Continue reading

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Cheese and other matters

“I CANNOT TAKE ANOTHER MINUTE OF SEARCHING THIS F*CKING RUCKSACK FOR MY WALLET,” I fumed, as we stood in a South America-style queue at Bogota airport. (‘South America-style’ in that it was huge, it snaked off in several directions and anyone who looked to be over forty years of age shoved their wide, queue-jumping shoulders in front of us, stolidly ignoring our outraged British huffs and puffs.) The man didn’t reply to my outburst because he had passed out on the spot hugging his own rucksack. But he had a rage of his own soon after: “I CANNOT TAKE ANOTHER … Continue reading

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She’s coming home, she’s coming home, she’s coming…

I am less than forty-eight hours away from my flight home, readers. Thank you very much for the support: I was really touched by your messages of concern. You helped me accept that dying out here of some tropical malady was both avoidable and absurd. (NB one of my favourite ‘come home’ messages was via Twitter: “are you out of your f*cking MIND, you c*ck? Stop being a f*cking fanny and come home RIGHT NOW… YOU UTTER D*CK!” So yes, I listened and agreed and at huge expense changed our flights home. The Man has – as usual – been … Continue reading

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