itsmaddybitchxx Blog

Back in London now after a couple of days holiday. Roma was fantastica! I LOVE Italy - not just the language and of course the shopping - any nation that regards pizza and pasta as staple foods wins me over instantly

As well as the Vatican and the Spanish Steps I also made time to visit some other great landmarks - Fendi, Dior, Ferragamo...
I got some beautiful metallic purple snakeskin shoes with an incredibly high heel from Ferragamo. Liga has the same ones in a darker matte purple but due to our feet being several sizes apart we can't share shoes. The solution - both buy the same. I fell in love with a Fendi evening bag too...with crystals on the front which made its way into my bag collection and also my heart. A Barbie-pink Dior purse topped off my shopping yesterday as I'm always carrying notes and coins around loose since my last purse met its death when the zip broke completely.
I got some lingerie too - no shopping trip is complete without new sexy underwear. Even if I'm the only one who sees it, it still makes me feel good to know I'm matching. Sometimes, when I'm wearing particularly gorgeous underwear I wish I'd get run over by a bus so the entire world could see it. Ok, that may be a slight exaggeration but you get my point.

The weather was perfect - not too hot, not London cold, and bright sunshine Nice weather always puts me in a happy mood. Shopping in the rain, cold, snow is still good but something about a bright sunny day just makes you feel FABULOUS!

I ate far too much as I usually do on holiday, but with all the gorgeous Italian food around it's extremely hard to deny yourself. And as I justified it to myself "When in Rome...". Im sure the ending to that sentence was never supposed to be "....eat as much pizza and pasta as you can until you commit a serious case of Carbicide" but still. The Italian guys didn't seem put off by the sight of me stuffing my face , infact they seemed to find it sexy. Or maybe they were all part of a Feeders club. Anyway, in a sea of brunettes being a blonde (even if its a blonde consuming her weekly calorie allowance in one meal) definately has its advantages and as everybody knows I love attention

On the flight back I got talking to a lovely American couple who had been all around Europe on holiday. They were from New York and had that wonderful NY accent you hear on TV and they started showing me photos of their sons - "This one's a banker!" the lady told me with a wink I wasn't sure how to react to. I smiled. "Isn't he gow-geous?" she said. Truth be told he looked more like the more unfortunate looking brother of Shrek but of course Jewish mothers think the world of their sons and are blind to any kind of imperfection, be it his resemblance to a certain green monster or anything really. I do have a knack of attracting Jewish guys though. I think I am destined to marry one - at my wedding instead of "I do" I'll be saying "I Jew". Although quite how I'd give up bacon sandwiches and Christmas I don't know. Hmm...will cross that bridge when I come to it.

I brought back lots of Limoncello for myself and the girls. And of course abused the Duty Free - there is a shortage in Dior Kiss Lipgloss thanks to me.
Tonight I am going for cocktails and my new snakeskin shoes will get their official first outing!!!

xx

Apparently you're nobody until you have a stalker. Well I must have been somebody for over a year now as I have a creepy little stalker who, just when I thought he has finally found someone else to annoy, pops up like an irritating skin problem. Or toothache.

I have met him a few times out and about in London, he found me via Facebook (yet another illustration of the fundamental evils of social networking sites) and invented a fictional relationship in his head. Im sure he showed photos of me to all his freaky friends and said I was his girlfriend. Infact I know he did. He used to phone again and again, text, facebook me and even went as far to loiter outside the building where I used to live in Mayfair. My friends thought it was funny but a little wierd. He is perfectly harmless but you have to wonder what goes on in the heads of people who act like that?
He isn't the stereotypical older guy, kind of troubled and harbouring an obsession that will eventually lead to him being institutionalised. My stalker is young - around my age, dark hair, not too tall...and a little sad looking like he has taken lessons from a basset hound. I only spoke to him because I felt sorry for him. So much for being nice to people in London hey?

I deleted his number but have now saved it as 'Hang Up' so that every time he calls the words HANG UP flash across the screen and I know not to answer. I got a message from him the other day "You are the best thing that ever happened to me. How can I win you back?" - what the???? Correct me if I am wrong but since when does fantasising about someone and harassing them through the mediums of telecommunication constitute a relationship?
I blocked him on Facebook when I found yet another friend request from him, and also noticed he had been adding various friends of mine to get closer to me.....
I decided to write a status update - 'Madeleine...has a creepy little stalker called ** - if he adds you DO NOT ACCEPT. He has been obsessed with me for over a year and probably has a shrine and my name tatooed on various body parts. He is a seriously unhinged individual and any attention just makes him feel important. Thanks'

One of my friends found it hilarious and messaged me saying "Ha ha, you got a taste of your own medicine LOL".
I pointed out that all my obsessions are kept quiet, apart from my most trusted friends. Yes there have been wedding photos created on photoshop, files with photos and names updated regularly, screensavers, various doodles of 'Mrs. Madeleine (insert surname of guy here)' etc, however I do not bombard the person in question with messages, calls, texts etc because I am smart enough to know that is the number 1 way to ensure they never go near you. Or ensure you can never go near them once they have had a restraining order issued...

Another friend said "some call it stalking, I call it love". In this case I would disagree - he may call it love, I for one call it stalking.

I'm so glad its officially Christmas Season! The lights are up everywhere and all the shops have fabulous Christmas decorations which makes it impossible for you not to be in a shopping mood. And when you've bought loads of stuff people always assume its Christmas shopping instead of assuming you are financially irrespnsible and wonder why you are spending in a recession? My personal opinion is that I'm helping the economy by doing so.

Friday I went to Nobu and Automat wearing my Sexy Cinderella outfit. Everyone was asking about my shoes
Saturday I had a Q.N.I (Quiet Night In) as Sunday I was off to Birmimgham to see my brother at uni. My parents had driven down too so we had a family day - lunch, a million questions.....however whenever ones mother asks about bondage or fetish parties its like "I really dont feel comfortable having this conversation with you. And I never will. Please dont ever ask me again". When the parents had gone home my brother and I went to the German Christmas Market with some of his uni friends who were all very nice (I had visions of him living with lazy, grungy people who ate beans from a can and never washed their hair so I was pleasantly surprised). I bought huge heart shaped gingerbread cookies for Liga and Inga with their names in icing - 'Dirrrrrrty Inga' and 'Sexy Liga' - the cookie-man looked slightly bemused at my choice of icing words. Usually people write 'Happy Xmas' or 'To my darling husband'. I thought mine were better. I also bought sausages and gluhwein spices and chocolates and all sorts of things we have no use for but needed to have anyway. Come on, how often am I at a German Christmas Market?

Yesterday Amanda and I took Pumpkin and her dog Cloe for walks. It was freezing and we had about 15 layers of clothes on. We had a nice catch up and I managed to wear Pumpkin out so he slept like a baby for the rest of the evening.
Liga and I went out for a few drinks to Collection and Eclipse and had a relatively tame evening. There really are some strange people out there and for some reason they all congregated at the 2 places we decided to go last night. One guy told us straight faced he is "from the moon" and asked us to join them for watermelon martinis - like Hell we would. Not even if I was an alcoholic and that was the only drink offer in the room.
We went via the takeaway en route home and now feel like pigs this morning. We are going to do pilates and bodypump later to make up for it. The pilates instructor is like a blonde American Task-Master. I'm sure she moonlights as a dog trainer or a member of the Gestapo.

On Thursday I am off to Rome for a weekend of pizza and pasta. And not forgetting all the important Italian sightseeing - Versace, Dolce and Gabanna, Armani.....tis the Season !

So this morning I woke up, took my baby out for a walk (he refused point blank to set his precious pomeranian paws in the dirty puddles so I ended up carrying him) and went for lunch at the Westbury with my broker friends and Inga and had a fabulous afternoon. Then tonight I am going to Nobu and wearing my beautiful new swarovski crystal Louboutins and new Herve Leger dress. Liga and Inga say I look like Sexy Cinderella.

Why in Gods name would I want to give up the luxury of doing just that to go and work 9 to 5 in some crappy office for a tyrant boss who I'm probably better qualified than anyway?

People tend to be fascinated by my lifestyle but so quick to comment on it. I dont comment on anybodys work (or lack of) so why comment on what I choose to do with my time?
My job is model/TV presenter - however I don't like to work. I HATE working. So I try to do as little as possible. Luckily in the entertainment industry this is relatively easy, one of the good things about being self employed. Like most of my girlfriends who will completely agree with this - I LIKE doing nothing. I LIKE being able to wake up when I want, get a pedicure when I want, go to whichever gym classes I feel like, spend hours with Pumpkin in the park, go shopping at any time in the day without having to worry about lunch breaks limiting my time, and most of all I like being able to organise a holiday with a few hours' notice. If I had worked all day every day, living for the weekend, since I moved to London 2 years ago what would I have achieved really? I didn't go to university, all I have are A-levels and "life experience".

Having done things my own way - I have been to more countries in my short life than most people do full stop, I have met some of the most amazing and fascinating people, been to some unbelievable parties at the best places and have had the opportunity to look after myself so I always look my very best - completely vital for when I DO work. Also I have my baby, Pumpkin. If I hadn't felt lonely that day last September I wouldn't have impulse bought a dog and I wouldn't know the joy that is Pumpkin Pie. He has brought more to my life than any job could do.

So when people say to me "wouldnt you rather do something meaningful with your time?" or "dont you get BORED?" - the answer to both is no, thankyou. When the day comes where I decide to get up, send my CV to Office Angels and trek to work on the tube we shall all be ice skating home because Hell will have frozen over.
I dont have a life plan yet, I'm 22 for Gods sake, why should I? But I don't see the problem enjoying myself while I figure it out...... xx M

Yesterday I woke up face down in my white duvet and thought "am I in Heaven?" The answer, when I gathered my thoughts and noted my banging headache was no. Most definately not. Inga and I had been to Nobu for "a few drinks" the evening before and ended up at a party in Knightsbridge returning home at 5am as I have to sleep before it gets to daylight or I want to kill myself. You know when you find yourself still drinking champagne at stupid o clock and the sun is coming up and you think to yourself "oh God. People are getting up now doing normal things and here I am WASTED" and the thought of getting a cab in last nights clothes and facing dissaproving looks from the 9-to-5-ers fills you with panic? So I make sure I am in bed before the sun comes up, in my own apartment.

I looked at my phone and found a lunch invitation at the Connaught with 2 of my broker friends, Dylan and Micheal. So woke Inga up and convinced her to come with me. "Ok, but you're doing my make up..." she compromised.

At 1pm we arrived looking hungover but passable and were given 2 glasses of pink champagne...not what I wanted to see at that moment but it would be rude not to. By half 1 we were back to our usual level of fabulous and in absolute hysterics prank calling people from our friend's firm. When one guy called to ask where the guys were, they handed the phone to me and I replied "well I have Micheal on a leash as we speak, wearing PVC and a mask. If he's very good he can come back after cleaning the toilets". Dylan told us the most hilarious story which had us almost crying we were laughing so hard. The other day he was walking down Oxford street and it was incredibly busy so he found himself moving at a snail's pace behind a very large woman talking on the phone. He couldnt help but overhear her conversation which went something like this (his impression is much funnier than mine) - "You dirrrrrrrty, dirrrrrrrty bastard....you DIRTY fucking BASTARD..." apparently said with so much venom that if phone calls could kill,the guy on the recieving end would have dropped dead that very second. Inga and I had the genius idea of calling Fulham Guy (wanker who broke Inga's heart about a month ago) and having Dylan say those exact words to him, in the exact same voice as the woman on Oxford Street.
Of course, Fulham Guy answered the witheld number calling him - I cant imagine he gets many phone calls so it must have been terribly exciting for him to recieve one in the afternoon. Dylan started "You dirrrrrrty, dirrrrrrrty bastard..." and we almost fell off our chairs. Fulham Guy obviously heard the laughing and hung up. So Dylan called back and left a voicemail. Ha ha ha!

After the Connaught we went to Claridges for bellinis. The guys had to make an appearance at the office at some point, so Inga and I headed home slightly tipsy and still giggling about the whole afternoon. Our taxi driver must have thought we were partially insane and looked slightly worried when we started the whole Dirty Bastard impression again. I think he assumed we were talking about him and was racking his brains for anything he may have done in the time we had got into the cab. Tomorrow we are meeting them again same time, same table for lunch. It must be so much fun being a broker - turn up at the office, spend the entire day going for lunch and drinking, return back and then have dinner at Nobu or somewhere. We also have an invitation to their firm's Xmas party - I think we are the entertainment. Micheal updated my facebook status to 'Madeleine is...getting used to being a broker. PVC always...' - and you know what, if I wasn't intent on marrying one, I may consider it as a career option myself!

Firstly, thanks to everybody who wished me a Happy Birthday! I had a fantastic day, and couldn't have been happier.

Started the celebration Saturday night with Tasha and Inga - we had a night out in Maddox with plenty of champagne and spent the night giggling and saying Bruno-style "ve are like za sex and a city girls!". Our friend G was out too and had brought along the most horrendous girl - intolerable is an understatement. When standing up to put her coat on, instead of just putting it on herself like any normal human being she actually held out her arms and waited for him to put it on FOR her. Who is she, royalty? She told us all she was Italian, but being quite good at deciphering accents I guessed she was more likely Albanian or Russian, so as she was talking (about herself of course) very loudly I interrupted and said "So, when was it you said you go back to Albania?". G said "no, she's Russian actually" and I said "Ah Inga you were right, I owe you a tenner!". Miss Queen Of Italy looked rather pissed off and went off to try her luck dirty dancing alone in front of a group of sleazy looking men. Fabulous night after she had gone - we practically pushed her out the car on the way back to G's place for an afterparty with a couple of "byeee, SO nice to meet you"'s thrown in for sarcastic measure

So yesterday was my actual Birthday. I started the day at the Mandarin Oriental spa - pure heaven. Followed this by champagne and shopping! My friend is so sweet and always gets me the most lovely presents. I got a silver-blue Herve Leger dress, a Louis Vuitton handbag (deep turquoise, patent, fabulous) and the Ultimate Princess Shoes EVER - Christian Louboutin, swarovski crystal encrusted and a kind of irridescent colour which looks so amazing with the dress! I look like a Sexy Cinderella. After all my shopping I was so tired so spent last night with Mel and Inga and birthday cake, and also had dinner with Jonny

Today I am going to Pilates to work off all the birthday cake and taking Pumpkin out for a long walk. The other day I was on my way to Bodypump class with my friend Tim and I saw Pumpkin's identical twin - another gay Pomeranian called Dolly. I swapped numbers with the lady who owns him and we have arranged to introduce them! I am so excited and hope they become boyfriends and then we could have a wedding!!!!!!!!

Halloween isnt something I'm usually overly bothered about - being from up North we would go out dressed up every weekend in some of Ann Summers' finest. Last year I spent Halloween in Claridges (and the 2 following days!) and I wasnt particularly excited about this year's festivities until we were invited on a fabulous night out 5 hours prior to being expected to turn up. In costume.

Being a glamour model I have boxes and boxes of lingerie, outfits and accesories however none of these were suitable for a dinner and clubbing at Automat in Mayfair. So Liga and I abandoned our warm cosy apartment and Ugly Betty marathon in favour of the Westfield shopping centre. We planned to literally just pop into Ann Summers and buy a slutty costume each, but of course shopping and I arent limited to short trips.
I dont want to think about how much I spent to be honest, it's best I try not to think about it.

I decided to go as Officer Sexy, Liga went as a Mafia Doll. Both costumes demanded drag-queen make up (Katie Price's new book gives a step by step guide to achieving the Jordan look, which I'll be honest, I love) and by 9pm we left our place and headed to Mayfair.
Turned up at our friend's apartment to find him in a Jedi warrior costume and 3 girls looking less than impressed with Officer Slutty and her bodyguard. Oh well, Halloween is after all the 1 night a year where a girl can dress like a total street walker and no other girls can say anything about it.

After a few glasses of champagne we headed to Automat which was PACKED. Liga and I found ourselves thanking God we didnt go as Air Hostesses - a group of 8 girls all in the Ann Summers Air Hostess outfit walked in after us. That would have been our entrance ruined. Nobody else had our outfits We looked HOT. Automat is much better than the other clubs round Berkley St and we had alot of fun laughing at the hoardes of people queuing up to get into Funky Buddha (1 word - urgh). Also the people trying to get into Automat being refused left right and centre - makes one feel rather special

After many bottles of champagne we decided to move to a house party, found it had ended to Liga, myself and Jedi Warrior (complete with light sabre) went to Raffles on the Kings Road. Bloody good place actually, I can see why Prince Harry goes there. Ended up at our friends' place still drinking champagne and some godforsaken hour the next morning.

Sunday was spent in bed with Dominos Pizza and trashy movies - the perfect post-hangover cure!

I am now back in London and feel like a fat little Cheshire Cat after all the holiday bingeing.

Egypt was fabulous! Liga and I were left to our own devices (supervised by the chauffer) while our friend was on business and with only 2 days to fit everything in we decided to do a full day sightseeing then take it easy the following day. I'm not really one for sightseeing in general, unless you count the shops, but I must say the Pyramids and the Sphynx were fascinating, although they wouldnt let me climb onto the Sphynx itself for a photo. Meanies. The only problem was that being two blonde girls who tend to dress a little on the skimpy side (my look is best described as Footballer's Wife meets High Class Call Girl) we attracted ALOT of attention. We couldn't walk two minutes without someone harassing us for photos and trying to touch our hair. Thank GOD we had the chauffer waiting for us at all times!
The people trying to sell you the dodgy tourist crap stuck to us like flies round shit. Apparently blonde hair and pink outfits = gullible tourist who will buy crappy merchandise. We came up with a clever way to avoid buying the faux-wood carved cat statues and puke-inducing patterned scarves with tassles - to simply say "my boyfriend sells them. I've got loads at home already". We got many offers to ride on 'Micheal Jackson the camel' who apparently is "the best camel in all the world" and probably has magical powers.

After that we went to the Museum which has all the mummies and artefacts and things. I HATE Museums. I find them boring as all hell and would sooner take out my eye with a fork than spend a day looking round one. The V&A for example has never interested me - I just walk round not really looking at things and wondering where the cafe and gift shops are.
The Egyptian Museum was however quite interesting and at least the jewellery was nice to look at. We got very freaked out looking at the mummified Royals from billions of years ago and were both convinced they could come alive at any time.
Most people spend a good 4 hours (minimum!! wtf??) in the Museum. We observed the groups of large Americans in typical tourist attire (socks and sandals, khaki shorts, bright polo shirt, hat of some sort) listening intently to their Tour Guides and absorbing everything they said. They were probably making it up anyway. I know there's no way I'd learn all about bloody Egyptian history to regurgiate to groups of tourists all day for minimum wage, I'd at least have some fun with it - "and this mummy was actually a descendant of Micheal Jackson...no, not the camel..." etc.

We spent probably 40 mins looking at all the pots and charriots and coffins and statues then headed in the direction of the cafe where we sat for about an hour and a half eating sandwiches and ice creams. We couldnt have the driver tell our friend we are a couple of uncultured philistines who spent a mere 40 minutes learning about the Egyptian culture. No, far better to pretend we spent 2 hours in there and have him think we are wordly travellers (5 star of course!) who spend their time abroad immersed in culture and learning - not stuffing their faces with club sandwiches and Magnums.

That night we went to the best restaraunt in Cairo right on the Nile - I forget the name but its really hard to get a table there, you have to either be incredibly important or failing that I'm sure you could bribe them to cut the queue, but it would be quite a substantial sum. We however had a table courtesy of our wonderful (and very well connected) friends we were there with. The food was amazing and well worth feeling like a pig for the rest of the next day, as was the alcohol! After that we went to a shisha place up on a roof overlooking the water....so beautiful! Liga shared her tips on how to get drunk from the shisha (cognac or vodka mixed with the water in the bottom of the pipe) and we had a great time dancing to the Arabic music, not knowing the words just drunkenly singing "Habibi!!!" every 2 minutes. Luckily people find it amusing and not offesive and/or irritating.

The next day we were far too hungover to even contemplate more sightseeing so we had a lie in and huge breakfast followed by some lazing around. Always nice to take it easy after a hard day trekking up pyramids and things.

The worst part about any holiday is coming home - especially on a packed evening flight full of screaming kids and their over indulgent parents. For Gods sake, if your kid screams, you bloody well make it stop. Nobody else wants to sit and listen to your brat whining about how they hate the plane - fine child, allow me to make it easy for you and throw you out the window.
Another part I hate about airports is waiting for your suitcase at the other end. My heart goes so fast and I almost feel sick with worry that somebody has stolen my case. Not the case itself that bothers me, but I tend to overpack and as everybody knows my clothes, shoes and accesories amount to quite alot of money. That and the fact I love them! I'm awful at packing and always take too much stuff then claim I have nothing to wear and go out and buy a load of new stuff. Nobody ever understands how I can say I have NOTHING to wear - most people think I am the love child of Carrie Bradshaw and Imelda Marcos.

All that aside, I do quite enjoy flying - it is the excuse to sit there reading trashy magazines, watching movies and eating everything that's handed to you without being considered lazy or sloth-like. Also nobody can get through to your phone so for the duration of the flight you have absolutely nothing on your mind apart from food and TV. My idea of Heaven.

I cant wait for my next holiday! India here I come!

Unfortunately due to our friend being on business, our trip to India has been postponed....but we were not upset for long as we are now off to Cairo tomorrow to see Pyramids and Sphynxes and things! THEN we go to India in November

It is mine and Liga's birthdays next week. She is the 4th, I am the 9th. We are very excited and I have decided to celebrate 21 again (I will actually be 22 but who cares!) and am planning lots of nights out and more importantly, making a Wish List of things I want. A new laptop is first on the list, being practical and all. I managed to break my laptop, I somehow cracked the screen and Al Shabaz at the repair shop laughed and said it is beyond repair. In addition to that there are various bags and shoes I want, and some more Herve Leger dresses - soooo sexy!

Havent been out partying much lately, been going to the gym and staying in with the girls watching Ugly Betty and cooking. I am actually a fantastic chef but because we eat out about 99% of the time my talents remain hidden. Its great living with Inga - we gave her the upstairs room in the apartment that we nicknamed The Penthouse. So Inga's facebook status reads "Inga is in her Penthouse". Pumpkin is loving the extra attention and its always nice having your best friends right there when you need them.
Mel and Tasha have been round quite a bit aswell so I have all my girls. And my Fluffy Boy.

Sunday night Liga and I shunned going to Pizza Pomodoro and Boujis in favour of SATC and some pink champagne Inga brought us from her holiday in Sardinia. We still cant believe Big does that to Carrie, right before the wedding. Bastard. We decided one bottle wasnt quite enough but as we had run out of cheap champagne and are both incredibly lazy and wont leave the apartment when we are in relaxation mode, we had no option to crack open one of the bottles of Dom P we were saving for our birthdays. We then watched PS:I Love You which caused much confusement to any guys were were texting telling our plans that night - "watching a movie in bed PS:I Love You", then after sending it realising our error that made us look like nutters and sending another text "PS:I Love You is the movie! I dont love YOU. Lol. Am not a psycho!" - I'm not sure wether we did get replies or not...

Today I went to the gym with my trainer, Scott, and tonight Liga and I are doing Pilates. Our flight is 2pm tomorrow so tonights plan is Ugly Betty marathon and a nice home cooked meal by Masterchef Maddy.

xx