The Dear Gill Letters (14)

Oh for a good night out...

Darling, I'm so sorry that I've not written for a while, but you know it's just not easy being the first lady of Britain! You just long for a good night out!

And I actually got one! Whooaaaahh! Vogue gave me chance to unwind a bit with a few other celebs. Alright, I know it's a bit of a shopathon before the new collections hit the catwalk, but it does you good to have a fling sometimes. And the most wonderful thing is that I can now get all the latest gear and not even have to pay for it. They want me to be seen in their clobber. Little old me! Can you imagine it??

Asprey's was lovely - all free bubbly and bubbly celebs. And let's face it, where do you get to have a night out where you can shop and drink at the same time? Works for me!

Anyway, they had to do something after that ridiculous 'walk a mile' charity claptrap I got roped into the other day. I mean come on - I walk a mile for charity. A whole mile. Bloody Walliams - can't stand the little faggot myself - swims the length of the Thames and I get to walk a mile.

I said to Dave, this is claptrap, Dave, I said and he just said "Well if it's only a mile, why don't you do it in six inch heels or something if it's so easy?!" Well to be honest I nearly threw our best Waterford Crystal fruitbowl at him, but of couse we forgot the golden rule which is never say these things in front of a Number 10 press officer! She thought it was a great idea so next thing you know there I am tottering down the street in the most ludiscrous shoes you ever saw. Looking like a tart and feeling like a pudding!

But what about old Cherie Slotgob, eh? Got her comeuppance from the appeal court I gather for not being tough enough on the bench. Well, a 12 month suspended for drug smuggling, I ask you. What's the matter with the woman? Has being married to Tony all these years finally destroyed what little was left of her marbles. Mind you, sometimes it's bad enough being married to Dave, so I can't imagine what it like having put up with Tony.

Anyway, darling, it's London Fashion Week and I've a whole load of freebies! You bring the bubbly and I'll bring the tickets. See you there,

The Dear Gill Letters (14)

Oh for a good night out...

Darling, I'm so sorry that I've not written for a while, but you know it's just not easy being the first lady of Britain! You just long for a good night out!

And I actually got one! Whooaaaahh! Vogue gave me chance to unwind a bit with a few other celebs. Alright, I know it's a bit of a shopathon before the new collections hit the catwalk, but it does you good to have a fling sometimes. And the most wonderful thing is that I can now get all the latest gear and not even have to pay for it. They want me to be seen in their clobber. Little old me! Can you imagine it??

Asprey's was lovely - all free bubbly and bubbly celebs. And let's face it, where do you get to have a night out where you can shop and drink at the same time? Works for me!

Anyway, they had to do something after that ridiculous 'walk a mile' charity claptrap I got roped into the other day. I mean come on - I walk a mile for charity. A whole mile. Bloody Walliams - can't stand the little faggot myself - swims the length of the Thames and I get to walk a mile.

I said to Dave, this is claptrap, Dave, I said and he just said "Well if it's only a mile, why don't you do it in six inch heels or something if it's so easy?!" Well to be honest I nearly threw our best Waterford Crystal fruitbowl at him, but of couse we forgot the golden rule which is never say these things in front of a Number 10 press officer! She thought it was a great idea so next thing you know there I am tottering down the street in the most ludiscrous shoes you ever saw. Looking like a tart and feeling like a pudding!

But what about old Cherie Slotgob, eh? Got her comeuppance from the appeal court I gather for not being tough enough on the bench. Well, a 12 month suspended for drug smuggling, I ask you. What's the matter with the woman? Has being married to Tony all these years finally destroyed what little was left of her marbles. Mind you, sometimes it's bad enough being married to Dave, so I can't imagine what it like having put up with Tony.

Anyway, darling, it's London Fashion Week and I've a whole load of freebies! You bring the bubbly and I'll bring the tickets. See you there,

The Dear Gill Letters (13)

A postcard from Tuscany...

Oh God - but it's good to get away!

Dave says it's just wonderful to feel the sun on your back rather than all those sharp stabbing pains from standing in front of those bastards in the cabinet.

And anyway, Nick wanted to be PM so Dave's happy to let him have a go at the job while we're relaxing over here. Gather he's bottled it though and is overlapping with us leaving Vague Hague to run the country. Rather unkind, I thought after he failed to get the job when he had his shot at it. Typical of Nick - when the going gets tough, the Limp Dumps bail out!

And Andy might be having a problem with health back home, but I can tell you that not being there is ab fab for our health, darling! I'm just so glad that Jamie put us on to it. Whoda thought it but for a working class oik he really does seem to have remarkably good taste. And we're having lunch with Sting and Trudie on Wednesday. Churlish to say no, but let's just hope he can restrain himself from breaking into song, yah!

Tuscany's really stunning this time of year. You'd love it! I gather we're getting some stick from the lefties but Cripes we haven't had a decent holiday with the kids since Dave got the top job so I reckon we've earned it. And anyway, nobody carped on about it when Tony and his brood used to come out here - and we're actually paying for our break which is more than they ever did, eh? At least we don't have to worry about the Berlusconis dropping in!

As usual the papparazzi are being a pain in the old proverbial. I blame Murdoch. He's probably having a fit of peek over all this hacking nonsense and is paying them to follow us everywhere. Sometimes you know it's just so tempting to sit in a cafe picking my nose or perhaps give 'em a flash of my boobies round the pool but I know Dave would never let me hear the end of it. Still, I can fantasize...

Anyway, best go. The pool's looking rather inviting and Dave's just cracked open another bottle of Chianti. Now that's what I call the Dolce Vita!

The Dear Gill Letters (13)

A postcard from Tuscany...

Oh God - but it's good to get away!

Dave says it's just wonderful to feel the sun on your back rather than all those sharp stabbing pains from standing in front of those bastards in the cabinet.

And anyway, Nick wanted to be PM so Dave's happy to let him have a go at the job while we're relaxing over here. Gather he's bottled it though and is overlapping with us leaving Vague Hague to run the country. Rather unkind, I thought after he failed to get the job when he had his shot at it. Typical of Nick - when the going gets tough, the Limp Dumps bail out!

And Andy might be having a problem with health back home, but I can tell you that not being there is ab fab for our health, darling! I'm just so glad that Jamie put us on to it. Whoda thought it but for a working class oik he really does seem to have remarkably good taste. And we're having lunch with Sting and Trudie on Wednesday. Churlish to say no, but let's just hope he can restrain himself from breaking into song, yah!

Tuscany's really stunning this time of year. You'd love it! I gather we're getting some stick from the lefties but Cripes we haven't had a decent holiday with the kids since Dave got the top job so I reckon we've earned it. And anyway, nobody carped on about it when Tony and his brood used to come out here - and we're actually paying for our break which is more than they ever did, eh? At least we don't have to worry about the Berlusconis dropping in!

As usual the papparazzi are being a pain in the old proverbial. I blame Murdoch. He's probably having a fit of peek over all this hacking nonsense and is paying them to follow us everywhere. Sometimes you know it's just so tempting to sit in a cafe picking my nose or perhaps give 'em a flash of my boobies round the pool but I know Dave would never let me hear the end of it. Still, I can fantasize...

Anyway, best go. The pool's looking rather inviting and Dave's just cracked open another bottle of Chianti. Now that's what I call the Dolce Vita!

The Dear Gill Letters (12)

Daddy's incandescent...

Darling, I'm so sorry that I haven't written for a while, but you probably heard about that little spat that Daddy's been having up at his estate up in Yorkshire?

I mean, would you want an abattoir in your back garden? I went up there for a few days to try and cheer him up. He was telling me that everybody is against it. The local butcher wants to slaughter about 10,000 animals a year right on his doorstep. Can you imagine the smell not to mention the bits of mangled flesh flying out the windows and inconveniencing passers by.

To be fair, the locals had a meeting and none of them want it either, but the local council reckons that there are 'sound grounds' for the project and have approved it. Daddy's absolutely incandescent with rage! He's practically had a heart attack over it all.

And to make it worse, it's been approved by a Conservative run council! I asked Dave to have a quiet word with them, and I don't know what he said to them but it seems to have rather made things worse. They reacted by giving the little bugger even longer opening hours than he asked - probably stamping their little feet and muttering things about independence and undue influence and stuff!

I tell you what though. If the council leader's still looking forward to the New Years Honours list, he'd better be thinking again...

The house is open to the public in the summer and you can image what this is going to do to the garden tours - it just doesn't bear thinking about.

Anyway, we're lying low and making accomodating noises at the moment over that dreadful business at the News of the World. Dave's come in for a lot of stick from the dreaded Millipede over employing Andy as his press secretary. I mean what was he supposed to do? They say he exercised bad judgement in taking him on but as far as I can see the bad judgement would have been not sacking the little shit when all this hacking business came out.

Dave wants an enquiry into it all to salvage something from the whole mess - you know, exercising strong leadership and upholding the integrity of the law and all that sort of stuff. Trouble is once Rupey's got his hands on Sky he could really do some damage at the next election. Dave's really on a knife edge with this one.

Perhaps we could get him to do the opening ceremony at the new abattoir and arrange a little accident? Only joking, but I suspect it would put the smile back on Daddy's face for a while!

Toodle pip for now,

The Dear Gill Letters (12)

Daddy's incandescent...

Darling, I'm so sorry that I haven't written for a while, but you probably heard about that little spat that Daddy's been having up at his estate up in Yorkshire?

I mean, would you want an abattoir in your back garden? I went up there for a few days to try and cheer him up. He was telling me that everybody is against it. The local butcher wants to slaughter about 10,000 animals a year right on his doorstep. Can you imagine the smell not to mention the bits of mangled flesh flying out the windows and inconveniencing passers by.

To be fair, the locals had a meeting and none of them want it either, but the local council reckons that there are 'sound grounds' for the project and have approved it. Daddy's absolutely incandescent with rage! He's practically had a heart attack over it all.

And to make it worse, it's been approved by a Conservative run council! I asked Dave to have a quiet word with them, and I don't know what he said to them but it seems to have rather made things worse. They reacted by giving the little bugger even longer opening hours than he asked - probably stamping their little feet and muttering things about independence and undue influence and stuff!

I tell you what though. If the council leader's still looking forward to the New Years Honours list, he'd better be thinking again...

The house is open to the public in the summer and you can image what this is going to do to the garden tours - it just doesn't bear thinking about.

Anyway, we're lying low and making accomodating noises at the moment over that dreadful business at the News of the World. Dave's come in for a lot of stick from the dreaded Millipede over employing Andy as his press secretary. I mean what was he supposed to do? They say he exercised bad judgement in taking him on but as far as I can see the bad judgement would have been not sacking the little shit when all this hacking business came out.

Dave wants an enquiry into it all to salvage something from the whole mess - you know, exercising strong leadership and upholding the integrity of the law and all that sort of stuff. Trouble is once Rupey's got his hands on Sky he could really do some damage at the next election. Dave's really on a knife edge with this one.

Perhaps we could get him to do the opening ceremony at the new abattoir and arrange a little accident? Only joking, but I suspect it would put the smile back on Daddy's face for a while!

Toodle pip for now,

The Dear Gill letters (11)

Mo and Bo come to tea...

You know, I reckon that Michelle Obama is a real star, and so nice with it too - not at all stuck up. We sat in the kitchen and had a super chat over a cup of tea and an eccles cake! Daddy always reckoned that there was nothing in the whole wide world that you couldn't sort out if you just sat down and had a chat over a nice cuppa. It's what made the Empire what it was, he reckoned.

Anyway, I thought I had a lot to put up with what with the Glam Sam thing to live up to, but this poor girly knocks me into a cocked hat. I mean 'Mobama' - what sort of a handle is that? Apparently the people in the White House hung it on her because it sounds all ghetto and street cred, for Gawd's sake. Poor girl.

I'm suprised that she let them get away with it frankly 'cos let's face it she's a big girl, well over six foot and I certainly wouldn't want to get into an argument with her. And she still manages to look stylish in that typically America groomed to the hilt sort of way they have. Between you and me, apparently old Barrack's right under the thumb back home once the doors are closed. I'd love to be a fly on the wall in their bedroom!

So there we were sat in the kitchen doing the 'look nice for the cameras' bit that we all have to go through and then the next day I see the pictures in the papers. I mean, what do you think they found to talk about? Could it be two intelligent, well educated and powerful women talking about serious world issues? Like buggery it could! I mean it really makes me fume! They only got a wide angle shot, spread it across the centre pages and captioned all the items in the background like what sort of microwave I use, the cook books I read and the make of the telly! Talk about sexual stereotyping! I bet they wouldn't do that if the boys were sat there.

To be honest, I took it out on Dave a bit but he just smiled and laughed it all away. Lucky for him I didn't have a cup of tea in my hand at the time is all I can say or he might have ended up wearing it. Still, some good has come out of it - the sales in Mummy's online kitchen accessories business have gone through the roof thanks to those marvellous new guidelines on product placement, so maybe the gutter press did us all a favour in the end.

Once we got the cameras out of the way and had some time to ourselves, Mo and I found we agreed on quite a few things as it happened, and comparing notes on the boys was very illuminating! All I can say is that it's a good job they've got us behind them or God knows what state the world would be in.

Let's do lunch next week and I'll tell you more...

The Dear Gill letters (11)

Mo and Bo come to tea...

You know, I reckon that Michelle Obama is a real star, and so nice with it too - not at all stuck up. We sat in the kitchen and had a super chat over a cup of tea and an eccles cake! Daddy always reckoned that there was nothing in the whole wide world that you couldn't sort out if you just sat down and had a chat over a nice cuppa. It's what made the Empire what it was, he reckoned.

Anyway, I thought I had a lot to put up with what with the Glam Sam thing to live up to, but this poor girly knocks me into a cocked hat. I mean 'Mobama' - what sort of a handle is that? Apparently the people in the White House hung it on her because it sounds all ghetto and street cred, for Gawd's sake. Poor girl.

I'm suprised that she let them get away with it frankly 'cos let's face it she's a big girl, well over six foot and I certainly wouldn't want to get into an argument with her. And she still manages to look stylish in that typically America groomed to the hilt sort of way they have. Between you and me, apparently old Barrack's right under the thumb back home once the doors are closed. I'd love to be a fly on the wall in their bedroom!

So there we were sat in the kitchen doing the 'look nice for the cameras' bit that we all have to go through and then the next day I see the pictures in the papers. I mean, what do you think they found to talk about? Could it be two intelligent, well educated and powerful women talking about serious world issues? Like buggery it could! I mean it really makes me fume! They only got a wide angle shot, spread it across the centre pages and captioned all the items in the background like what sort of microwave I use, the cook books I read and the make of the telly! Talk about sexual stereotyping! I bet they wouldn't do that if the boys were sat there.

To be honest, I took it out on Dave a bit but he just smiled and laughed it all away. Lucky for him I didn't have a cup of tea in my hand at the time is all I can say or he might have ended up wearing it. Still, some good has come out of it - the sales in Mummy's online kitchen accessories business have gone through the roof thanks to those marvellous new guidelines on product placement, so maybe the gutter press did us all a favour in the end.

Once we got the cameras out of the way and had some time to ourselves, Mo and I found we agreed on quite a few things as it happened, and comparing notes on the boys was very illuminating! All I can say is that it's a good job they've got us behind them or God knows what state the world would be in.

Let's do lunch next week and I'll tell you more...

The Dear Gill Letters (10)

THAT wedding...

Sorry I've not written for a while, but we've been sort of busy running around drumming up support in the local elections and, of course, we had to have a little shindig down at Chequers to celebrate our first year in number 10!

I'm so sorry we couldn't invite you, but we had to keep it low key in case Cleggy found out. Don't want a spectre at the feast now, do we? Plus it would have seemed so undignified to be seen to celebrating just when he's been kicked in the nuts!

Anyway, wasn't the wedding great? I loved it! I got a free dress to wear and everyone said how great it looked. Seems a shame I had to give it back afterwards. Apparently, they offered it to Fergie until they found out that the dreadful haringer hadn't been invited. Seems Andy wasn't to popular over that one, but what did she expect after selling him out to the ragheads? Anyhow, it would have been miles too small for her...

I'll let you into a little secret, darling - I had a super hat lined up, a lovely floaty straw job which would have been simply divine with that dress, but one of the horses took a fancy to it and chewed a great big lump out of it so I had to go bareheaded much to Dave's consternation! "You can't go to a Royal Wedding without a hat!", he said but I just replied "Darling, I'm the first lady. I can do what I damn well like!" Anyway, horse manure is such a bad look, eh? ha ha!

And talking of hats, did you see the monstrosities that Andy's sprogs were wearing?!? OMG, they've inheritted their mothers dress sense!

Wonder if we'll be invited to the next big wedding, tho - you know, Ed and his bit! Something in red for that one, I fancy!

Toodle pip for now,

The Dear Gill Letters (10)

THAT wedding...

Sorry I've not written for a while, but we've been sort of busy running around drumming up support in the local elections and, of course, we had to have a little shindig down at Chequers to celebrate our first year in number 10!

I'm so sorry we couldn't invite you, but we had to keep it low key in case Cleggy found out. Don't want a spectre at the feast now, do we? Plus it would have seemed so undignified to be seen to celebrating just when he's been kicked in the nuts!

Anyway, wasn't the wedding great? I loved it! I got a free dress to wear and everyone said how great it looked. Seems a shame I had to give it back afterwards. Apparently, they offered it to Fergie until they found out that the dreadful haringer hadn't been invited. Seems Andy wasn't to popular over that one, but what did she expect after selling him out to the ragheads? Anyhow, it would have been miles too small for her...

I'll let you into a little secret, darling - I had a super hat lined up, a lovely floaty straw job which would have been simply divine with that dress, but one of the horses took a fancy to it and chewed a great big lump out of it so I had to go bareheaded much to Dave's consternation! "You can't go to a Royal Wedding without a hat!", he said but I just replied "Darling, I'm the first lady. I can do what I damn well like!" Anyway, horse manure is such a bad look, eh? ha ha!

And talking of hats, did you see the monstrosities that Andy's sprogs were wearing?!? OMG, they've inheritted their mothers dress sense!

Wonder if we'll be invited to the next big wedding, tho - you know, Ed and his bit! Something in red for that one, I fancy!

Toodle pip for now,

The Dear Gill Letters (9)

A birthday treat...

Well, so much for the big four-o then!

All I can say is that Monday's party at home - if you can call number 10 that! - went a damn site better than our 'secret' getaway to Spain. I mean Dave thought that by sneaking off on QuEasyJet we could slip out of the country unnoticed. After all. I mean it's not exactly the Heathrow VIP lounge.

According to the papers of course we went by RyanAir, and BMI to three different Spanish airports all at the same time. If they are going to invade our privacy like this then the least they could do was to actually check their facts. I don't know - maybe we didn't go at all and just photoshopped the pictures to fake it while sneaking off to a little country cottage somewhere.

I suppose I shouldn't complain really after Thailand got called off and then our Nile cruise got caught in a war. The austerity thing is really getting funny though, lol! Flying EasyJet and booking into a budget hotel. I ask you, do I look like I do budget hotel? They do have a back door you know!

And a meal in a local restaurant. Fair enough, but there was a very nice bottle of Verve Cliquot back at the hotel afterwards if you catch my drift. Anyway it was nice to have a break from the kids - and I did insist that if Dave was going to stage this pantomime then there was NO WAY he was going to get away with dragging me off for this load of old tat on the real day.

After all, you're only 40 once - although I do seem to remember you've been 39 or a few years now, haven't you darling? It's going to cost Dave a positive banker's bonus to make this up to me!

Oh, and I won't bother to send show you the holiday snaps 'cos most of them have been splattered all over the papers anyway. They've got more than we have!

Thanks for the pressy, and see you soon.

The Dear Gill Letters (9)

A birthday treat...

Well, so much for the big four-o then!

All I can say is that Monday's party at home - if you can call number 10 that! - went a damn site better than our 'secret' getaway to Spain. I mean Dave thought that by sneaking off on QuEasyJet we could slip out of the country unnoticed. After all. I mean it's not exactly the Heathrow VIP lounge.

According to the papers of course we went by RyanAir, and BMI to three different Spanish airports all at the same time. If they are going to invade our privacy like this then the least they could do was to actually check their facts. I don't know - maybe we didn't go at all and just photoshopped the pictures to fake it while sneaking off to a little country cottage somewhere.

I suppose I shouldn't complain really after Thailand got called off and then our Nile cruise got caught in a war. The austerity thing is really getting funny though, lol! Flying EasyJet and booking into a budget hotel. I ask you, do I look like I do budget hotel? They do have a back door you know!

And a meal in a local restaurant. Fair enough, but there was a very nice bottle of Verve Cliquot back at the hotel afterwards if you catch my drift. Anyway it was nice to have a break from the kids - and I did insist that if Dave was going to stage this pantomime then there was NO WAY he was going to get away with dragging me off for this load of old tat on the real day.

After all, you're only 40 once - although I do seem to remember you've been 39 or a few years now, haven't you darling? It's going to cost Dave a positive banker's bonus to make this up to me!

Oh, and I won't bother to send show you the holiday snaps 'cos most of them have been splattered all over the papers anyway. They've got more than we have!

Thanks for the pressy, and see you soon.

The Dear Gill Letters (8)

Boys and their toys...

As you might imagine, things have been a little intense here lately what with all the fuss over what's been going on in Libya, and the boys have been throwing their toys out of the pram over what to do!

I mean Dave knows that this isn't exactly going to be his Falklands but on the other hand he doesn't want it to turn out the way Iraq did for telfon Tone either! We could all do without another one of those. Anyway, he came up with this bright idea of having a war without anyone on our side actually getting involved. Brill - if it works.

Trouble is, Obummer doesn't seem to have the cohones, if you know what I mean? He wants to call the shots but doesn't want to be seen to be leading the show. Dave was really piddled off with him when he rang him the other night. All he kept doing was bringing the subject back to the cricket word cup and could Dave explain the rules to him. In the end Dave sort of lost it and told him it was it was just like Aghanistan - you stand there while people chuck the ball at you, you try not to drop it, and the game goes on forever without getting a result!

Anyway, it was a bit of a relief when old Sarky stepped in. Dave reckoned that Gadoofy hacked him off by telling him he'd bought him the presidency and now it was payback time, so he leapt right in and paid him back with a few bangers. I was going to go with Dave to Paris so I could get a bit off shopping in while Dave was at the palace, but then Madame S offered to go with me. OMG, have you seen her? She makes me look positively scruffy!

Anyhow, it all worked out alright in the end. Each of the boys got to polish their shiney new aeroplanes, stroke their missiles and move their ships about and everyone was happy. Talk about boys and their toys!

Never liked Paris much anyway - too many French people!

Toodle pip for now,

The Dear Gill Letters (8)

Boys and their toys...

As you might imagine, things have been a little intense here lately what with all the fuss over what's been going on in Libya, and the boys have been throwing their toys out of the pram over what to do!

I mean Dave knows that this isn't exactly going to be his Falklands but on the other hand he doesn't want it to turn out the way Iraq did for telfon Tone either! We could all do without another one of those. Anyway, he came up with this bright idea of having a war without anyone on our side actually getting involved. Brill - if it works.

Trouble is, Obummer doesn't seem to have the cohones, if you know what I mean? He wants to call the shots but doesn't want to be seen to be leading the show. Dave was really piddled off with him when he rang him the other night. All he kept doing was bringing the subject back to the cricket word cup and could Dave explain the rules to him. In the end Dave sort of lost it and told him it was it was just like Aghanistan - you stand there while people chuck the ball at you, you try not to drop it, and the game goes on forever without getting a result!

Anyway, it was a bit of a relief when old Sarky stepped in. Dave reckoned that Gadoofy hacked him off by telling him he'd bought him the presidency and now it was payback time, so he leapt right in and paid him back with a few bangers. I was going to go with Dave to Paris so I could get a bit off shopping in while Dave was at the palace, but then Madame S offered to go with me. OMG, have you seen her? She makes me look positively scruffy!

Anyhow, it all worked out alright in the end. Each of the boys got to polish their shiney new aeroplanes, stroke their missiles and move their ships about and everyone was happy. Talk about boys and their toys!

Never liked Paris much anyway - too many French people!

Toodle pip for now,

The Dear Gill Letters (7)

Busy, busy, busy...

How wonderful to see you and your lovely hubby at Florrie's christening the other day. So glad you could come! I only wish we'd had more time to chat , but you know how it is these days - everybody wants to be seen with us, chat with us, be photographed with us! It's such a drag...

Dave's been a bit up to his eyes with it lately. After we had to cancel our holiday to Egypt at least he got the consolation prize with a trip to the Middle East. Embarassing though how the Libya thing all blew up when it did thought, what with Nick off skiing only Willy Vague was there to take the reins. Still the way it all turned out, just as well he was around to cop the blame really.

Have you got your invite to the wedding yet? I'm sorry we couldn't wangle you a better seat but up the back was the best we could do. They did suggest putting up a big screen in Hyde Park for the people we couldn't squeeze in but I thought that would be just SO tacky. Almost like a two tier invite system - although one of Dave's advisors thought it might be a good spot for Miliband. Sort of put him properly in his place, if you get what I mean?

I'm having such a problem with choosing my outfit. Even my trip to LFW hasn't really helped. Several of the fashion houses have offered freebies but what with the hoo-hah over Galliano, it's like a minefield. You turn one down in favour of another and next you know he's up to his neck in a scandal! I'm still not sure if he was serious, but Dave suggested we should be seen to be 'all in it together' and I should get something from Marks and Sparks, but I don't think so, do you? You can bet your bottom dollar Kate won't be getting hers there!

Big Society, my eye! It's High Society for me!

The Dear Gill Letters (7)

Busy, busy, busy...

How wonderful to see you and your lovely hubby at Florrie's christening the other day. So glad you could come! I only wish we'd had more time to chat , but you know how it is these days - everybody wants to be seen with us, chat with us, be photographed with us! It's such a drag...

Dave's been a bit up to his eyes with it lately. After we had to cancel our holiday to Egypt at least he got the consolation prize with a trip to the Middle East. Embarassing though how the Libya thing all blew up when it did thought, what with Nick off skiing only Willy Vague was there to take the reins. Still the way it all turned out, just as well he was around to cop the blame really.

Have you got your invite to the wedding yet? I'm sorry we couldn't wangle you a better seat but up the back was the best we could do. They did suggest putting up a big screen in Hyde Park for the people we couldn't squeeze in but I thought that would be just SO tacky. Almost like a two tier invite system - although one of Dave's advisors thought it might be a good spot for Miliband. Sort of put him properly in his place, if you get what I mean?

I'm having such a problem with choosing my outfit. Even my trip to LFW hasn't really helped. Several of the fashion houses have offered freebies but what with the hoo-hah over Galliano, it's like a minefield. You turn one down in favour of another and next you know he's up to his neck in a scandal! I'm still not sure if he was serious, but Dave suggested we should be seen to be 'all in it together' and I should get something from Marks and Sparks, but I don't think so, do you? You can bet your bottom dollar Kate won't be getting hers there!

Big Society, my eye! It's High Society for me!

The Dear Gill letters (6)

The lady of the house is revolting...

Dear God, sometimes I just get so hopping mad, you know. I wish I was a student or something so I could go out and break things! Go back to my uni days when we could sit around and smoke pot and sing protest songs!

Since Dave got the 'big job' - that's what we call it because sometime it's just so shitty! - I've been trussed up in Downing Street like a turkey. I mean, the place is positively claustro-bloody-phobic. And it gets worse...Every time I go out, there's a policeman with me with a gun in his pocket. Either that or he's just pleased to see me, which wouldn't be so bad if he looked even remotely sexy! Oh lummy - I'm even beginning to envy Alan Johnson's missus...

Seriously, though, did you see that silly billy Sally in the papers? Old Bercy must have really pee'd her off for her to do that. I wonder what Dave would say if I did something like that, not that I would of course. No-one would want to look at my stretch marks, eh? Not quite so 'Glam Sam' after all...

I'm going to be hitting the big 4-0 in April though of course I'm only admitting to 35, so Dave wondered how I'd like to mark the occasion. I'd quite like a party but Dave says we've got enough trouble with the one we've got haha! Anyway, can you imagine the problems we'd have deciding who to put on the guest list and who to leave off? Actually, that could be quite fun come to think of it!

Plan B has gone out of the window as well as we've had to drop the idea of a romantic cruise up the Nile, bugger it. I really fancied a peek at old King Tut's des res but that's not going to happen now is it? And I know your sense of humour, so don't suggest Tunisia either or lunch is definitely orf next week, yah!

So it looks like a quiet romantic dinner somewhere if we can sneek out of the back door - or tunnel actually, but shhh - don't tell anyone. Nancy came out with a cracker, though. She thought Daddy could buy me some of that woodland that they're selling off and that it would be cool to go for nice long walks in it at weekends. Isn't that sweet? But then of course Arthur reminded her that Grandad already has several thousand acres of his own, and the moment passed rather.

Like I said, sometimes I could just throw something!