NTAs

So I went to The National Television Awards last night. Sure it was the first red carpet thing I’ve ever done but it turns out I was amazing at it. Here’s a few nuggets of advice on how you too can be as amazing as me:

As we all know at events like this, your outfit is king. Make sure you invest time in finding the perfect ensemble by enlisting the services of a stylist.
OR Go shopping by yourself spending two hours in Wagamama reading spy fiction and eating edamame beans while repeating the word “edamame” quietly to yourself in a generic American accent because it is a funny word, before realising you haven’t bought a dress. Spend 30-40 minutes in three shops before you declare you have looked EVERYWHERE IN LONDON and therefore settling for something in the Warehouse sale because 1) it’s in the sale 2) it kind of gives you a waist and 3) it’s in the sale.

Make sure when the day comes, you can get ready in a relaxed and timely manner so you really enjoy the experience.
OR due to your housemate aka mum deciding to have the bathroom done, go round to your sister’s house for a shower. Make sure you take your own towel and toiletries because “It’s not a bloody Travelodge”. When you get there, make sure your nephew throws fish pie at you before you climb into the shower to find there is no hot water because your sister forgot to put the immersion. Waste 20 minutes waiting for the water to warm up by asking your nephew to make animal noises and confusing him by saying ‘giraffe’ and ‘triceratops’. It’s also key that your nephew bursts in when you are towelling off and says ‘Your rudie is funny’. Drive home with wet hair and mild anxiety about your rudie. If you see someone you used to go to school with, ignore them.

Book a hair and make-up artist to make sure you are at your glamorous best.
OR decide tonight is definitely the time to try applying fake eyelashes for the first time. Spend 25 minutes gluing your left eye shut before You Tubing a ‘how to’ video where a teenage American girl simultaneously annoys, patronises and educates you. Swear a lot and put on too much eyeliner in the style of Avril Lavigne when she was going through that cross phase.

Make sure you book a sick ride to drop you off.
OR take up your mum’s offer of dropping you off in the family Toyota estate. After all, if you move your dad’s golf clubs and ignore the trodden-on pink wafer biscuits your nephew has thrown out of his car seat, it’s really quite plush.

When you arrive on the red carpet, be professional.
OR remember half way down the carpet that you have forgotten to pull down the thermal vest you put on under your dress, meaning that it is clearly visible from the back. Walk sideways like a crab in front of all the scary photographers ensuring the vest stays a secret between you, Mark and Spencer. Style it out like you are being playful and doing a very long grapevine step that people did in aereobics classes in the 90s. The photographers will not care because they have no idea who you are and will call you ‘Ella’.

Phew. The hard work’s done now, so relax and enjoy the night mingling seamlessly with all your contemporaries.
OR continually exclaim loud variations on the following ‘THERE’S IAN BEALE. THERE’S MARK WRIGHT. THERE’S MARK WRIGHT’S MUM. THERE’S MARK WRIGHT’S DAD, before going up to Sheridan Smith and telling her in one constant, ginny breath,
“OhMyGodILoveLegallyBlondeTheMuscial!ItotallySawItThreeTimes
AndYouWereAmazingAndILovedTheDogsAndYouHaveNiceHair
AndIReallyLoveLegallyBlondeTheMuscialIHaveHadQuiteALotOfGin
IAmGoingToGetMoreGin!IWillLetGoOfYourArmsNow!IReallyLovedTheDogs!”

Leave graciously.
OR Steal someone else’s cab, get home, make a cheese toastie which you forget to eat and will find in the morning. Go to sleep in your thermal vest and have weird dreams about Ian Beale and your rudie.