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Sandra Omo discovers that life as a model can be tougher than you think

Earlier this week, my agency sent me to a casting for a hair magazine. I washed my hair, conditioned it and made sure it was shining stars as it was supposed to be the most important thing the judges would take into consideration when deciding. I took my portfolio along as well, as this is normal. After all, what do I have it for if I can’t take it to every casting I go to? A model’s portfolio should be versatile enough to contain at least one picture that refers to any kind of casting you attend. If this isn’t the case, honey your portfolio needs fixing. They always do, don’t they? I have digressed. Well, back to the topic. I arrived at this hair magazine casting and got chatting with other models from the same agency with me.

You know it’s so much fun when you go for castings and meet rival agencies’ models there. It’s even more fun when it’s so clear that your agency’s models are looking more model-like than the other agencies. That is the perfect time to keep chatting about the successes you’ve had over the past weeks. Ok, I have digressed again. Why can’t I just stick to the topic today? I think my brain is suffering from LoCS (Lack of Concentration Syndrome) but I shall pull through.

“Do I really have too many bikini photos in my book? Is there something wrong with a bikini photo?”

At the end of the casting I must confess that I left with a certain kind of confidence. The type you have only when you know you have done a perfect job. During my audition, I could see the approval on the panel’s face. They kept passing my portfolio amongst themselves with each one choosing which picture they liked best. Hours later, I received a call from my booker telling me how much the panel liked me and that I scored high in the judging process. However, I was one of the models who will not be getting the job because I had too many bikini photos in my portfolio. What, was he playing some prank on me, or testing how well I could handle rejection? I mean, I never imagined that a bikini photo would make a difference to a casting. However, this time it did as I guess the panel did not want to see anything else apart from portraits.

After the discussion with my booker, I began thinking about it for the first time. Do I really have too many bikini photos in my book? Is there something wrong with a bikini photo? I, for one, have never considered five swimwear photos to be too much in a portfolio. Well, that was not my lucky day as no matter how much the panel liked me, they just could not book me for the job. This is just like the famous ‘I nearly killed the bird’ story, but nearly is never good enough. So right now, I have discovered another strategy. Does this mean no bikini pictures in my portfolio? No. It just means not showing them in castings that do not require them for now.

Dani has her very own heart-warming Christmas tale to tell

Christmas is only a matter of days away and I’m really excited. The scrooge side of me is slipping away and although I have emptied every pocket, bank account and money box in aid of my Christmas shopping, I’m not all that worried. That’s what it’s all about, really. For I know my present from my Nan will keep me occupied.

My Nan asked my Mum to buy the presents for me and my sister from her and granddad, and while I was having a wander around an old flea market with my mum I spotted a 1920s Singer sewing machine for – wait for it – only £10 and it works a treat. I decided that will be my present from my Nan. So now, I’m hoping, obviously after I have mastered the one (turning the wheel) and the other (feeding the fabric through) I will finally be able to make some clothes for myself that actually fit! Hurrah!

“I love us all eating sprouts and spending the rest of the evening rather musically”

You have no idea how exciting that concept is! Eventually I will no longer have to settle for a skirt that just about fits or safety pin things together to make them look right. I am also extremely excited because the closer we get to Christmas the closer we get to getting our new little kittens. And these two kittens are extra special.

My stepdad works in a recycling centre. One day he was driving his digger-grabber thing when he saw something out the corner of his eye. He stopped and walked over to the conveyor belt that takes all the cardboard and squashes it, and sitting on it was a tiny kitten. Obviously, he grabbed it before it fell into the squasher, then he turned around and saw another one sitting on the big claw of his digger thing!

Both kittens were taken to a place called Raystede, where they’ve been looked after as they were only two weeks old when he found them, but we are taking them home soon. How could we not!

Something new to climb up the Christmas tree. Crikey, I am already a crazy old cat lady! Well it doesn’t take much to realise that I probably will be one when I’m old, so what’s wrong with starting now?

Oh, I’m so excited. I love Christmas, I love getting presents and I love giving them. I love seeing my family and all eating a massive dinner while wearing crappy cracker paper hats. I love fighting my cousin for the first spoonful of trifle. I love the Coca-Cola Christmas advert, I love persuading my perfectionist auntie that our un-symmetrical Christmas tree is beautiful. I love waking up Christmas morning and hoping beyond all odds that it has snowed although everyone knows it hasn’t. I love watching It’s A Wonderful Life and crying my eyes out at the very end: “Every time a bell rings an angel gets his wing”. I love that my Mum can never find a pack of Christmas cards that she likes, I love us all eating sprouts and spending the rest of the evening rather musically.

So no matter what you’re doing or who you’re with, have a wonderful Christmas and an even better New Year.

Victoria Nangle asks if we need to excercise a degree of caution when playing with topical satire

I find a real joy in coming up with a new gag on the way to a gig I’m about to play. What makes my elation and self-congratulations even higher is if it’s a topical gag. However, the line between ‘finger on the pulse’ and ‘just plain out of order’ is a fine one and the last thing I need as a new act is to end up banned from a venue because I didn’t know that The Spice Girls were sacred in Plumstead.

Bigger acts than I have made bigger mistakes in such judgement calls. Recently Patrick Kielty got into trouble for a gag about missing child Madeleine McGann and was forced to apologise in the press. He started off his career making jokes in Ulster about the conflicts, having lost family in the crossfire, and was occasionally told he was putting his life on the line with his antagonistic set. He attacked both sides and from a deeply personal level. Perhaps that was what allowed him to tell such dangerous gags and survive personally and professionally intact – being involved. However, this does give him a somewhat reckless attitude to the content of his gags, so habits picked up when you’re starting and then riding high won’t always keep you in pension gigs once you’ve joined the ranks of the established and Fame Acadamy hosts.

“If you’re playing with controversy it’s just as easy to get sliced back, leaving you the wounded one”

There’s been much discussion about taboo comedy subjects in recent times and with the likes of Sean Hughes (also encouraged to apologise for a gag concerning Madeleine), French & Saunders and Billy Connolly touring again, could they be eager to pick up their monikers of cutting edge controversial comics? Admittedly, when they were first given these titles it was at least 20 years ago and we can all get a bit old and podgy in 20 years – I know I certainly plan to. But if you’re playing with cutting edge controversy again it’s just as easy to get sliced back, leaving you the wounded one, standing cap in hand in front of a news crew apologising for saying something you hadn’t really thought through because it might be funny and topical. More than slightly dodgy ground.

That doesn’t mean I’m going to avoid it altogether though. Looking through the papers can deliver any aspiring comic some top comedy fodder. Whether it’s the recent story that curvy girls are supposed to be cleverer (despite the small print of how small the survey sample was) or that the Spanish King’s retort of ‘Shut Up’ has become the most fashionable ringtone to hit the international mobile phone market, there are some strange and bizarre things going on that shouldn’t be neglected from our stand-up sets. Let the topical comedy continue for many a time. With a smidgen of judgement on the side.

Andrew Kay finds comfort at Home in Queens Park

One of my favourite spots in Brighton has to be Queens Park. It’s one of those rather grand Victorian gestures that works, unlike so many of their other foolish ideas. I love the broad sweep of rather grand family houses that curve around its perimeter, I like the pond and the mad follies too. The one thing that it lacks though is a cafe. Oh I know there is one, situated in the children’s play area. But I don’t think I need to go into detail as to why that is not exactly a comfortable or even sensible place for men to hang around sipping tea, no matter how innocent their intention.

I have a dear friend who goes to the theatre every week, or has done until recently. These days he avoids shows that are billed as children’s or family entertainment. He simply feels uncomfortable in that situation. How awful is it, that as a society we have come to this; a perfectly respectable person denies himself a pleasure that for over half a century he has enjoyed simply because he feels that current trends may brand him an unacceptable audience member.

‘‘I had to ask if it was home-made and in reply they sent out the chef to assure me that it was’’

Back though to Queens Park and its lack of refreshments. Well not any more. On the sharp corner that leads out of Egremont Place there has always been a food establishment of some sort, sometimes good, sometimes not so. Now it has re-opened as Home, a café stroke deli. It’s a nice name that conjures the idea of simple, homely food, a promise that I hoped they could fulfil.

At the moment it’s only open in the daytime and in the evening for private parties, rather a good idea for those of you who baulk at the idea of burger chain parties for your babbling brats, sorry, adorable offspring. I wandered up there with my friend and colleague, Mrs E, for a spot of lunch on a chill but sunny Wednesday. Despite Home being rather new it was already quite full. Now that alone is a good sign.

We quickly found a table and a menu and before long we were struggling to decide what to eat. There were plenty of choices, but not too many, and a blackboard offered a selection of specials.

I was sorely tempted by roasted Jerusalem artichokes with parmesan, but also very aware of the short term side-effects they have on the digestive tract. I will spare you the details but they should certainly come with a warning.

In the end Mrs E chose a goats’ cheese tart with salads and I could not resist meatballs and chips.

The tart was excellent, a huge slice with delicious melted cheese and caramelised tomato slices. The salads were generous and interesting. Mrs E chose roasted vegetables and potato salad. I was impressed to see that the potato salad came with or without bacon. So many places would simply have made the vegetarian-friendly version. I was not surprised that she could not finish the meal as it was bountiful in every sense. It was also clearly home-made.

As were my meatballs. They came, three of them, two would have looked vulgar, in a large soup plate surrounded by a good light tomato sauce, just the right amount of sauce too, neither too much nor too little. The chips were served in a bowl on the side, I suppose to prevent them becoming soggy. They were also good, nice and crisp and lightly seasoned. I ate them one at a time, dipping them into the sauce as I went. Much as I did with each forkful of meatball. These were nice and meaty and again well seasoned and I struggled to finish them, but in the end I did. It’s funny how you can feel quite full and decide to eat no more, then suddenly, if something tastes good, you find that extra space for those last few morsels.

Which is how I also ended up with a slice of delicious apple and walnut cake. I had hankered after the chocolate and almond one, but as I dipped my chips it was removed at a stroke from the menu – sold out. The apple and walnut variety was more then a good second best, it was extraordinarily good, the sponge as light as a feather, the apples sweet, the walnuts crunchy and delicately bitter and the use of cinnamon well measured. I have to be honest, I am not a cinnamon fan, but here they had used it well. I had to ask if it was home-made and in reply they sent out the chef to assure me that it was.

There is a range of deli products for sale, small at present but with the promise of expansion and the pricing is modest too. Our lunch certainly would not break the bank.

Home, 32 Egremont Place, Brighton
01273 674456