I went to the premiere of An Education last night. The film as it happens was really thoroughly enjoyable; it had a great pace, was well acted, funny and touching. Carey Mulligan was captivating as the lead Jenny, and reminded me of a young Katie Holmes – all dimples, eager eyes and naivety. The costumes were fantastic – and made me long for the demure glamour of the 1960’s, when sexy was a well fitting A-line dress and a kitten heel. The premiere itself however was absolutely ghastly. All in all I was stood around for over an hour. This time was divided between standing in Leicester Square (a place I try not even to pass through – let alone loiter in) waiting to be let onto the red carpet by a deep-fried doughnut of a bouncer, and standing in the lobby of the Vue (yuck yuck yuck) waiting for screen 7 to be ready! Why anyone chooses to have their premiere in that hell hole I’ll never know – it’s hard to imagine a place with less charm or character. The motley crew of staff looked like they’d wandered in to see a film one day, and just never worked out how to get out again. One of them wasn’t even wearing shoes. And sadly the guests weren’t much better. A mixed bunch of scantily-sequin-clad over-baked Northern lasses on a big night out in London; posh girls in ’90’s dresses looking like they’d come straight off the set of Four Weddings, and a handful arty film types with frizzy curls and boring shoes. There was even a woman in a floor-length crushed velvet coat – now when was the last time you saw one of those?!
In retrospect I really should have made the effort to go to the after party. With this lot by way of competition I could easily have begun the day as the new Miss Dominic Cooper!