Diary of a Diva - Pink Ice and Paps

I replaced Sienna Miller at the Pink Ice Ball last week - the most prestigious charity event in Breast Cancer Awareness month. I asked for tickets on the off chance, and got word back immediately that Sienna Miller had just pulled out due to work commitments and they’d love me to go in her place.

With such A-List shoes to fill I was determined not to disappoint the charity, Cancer Research UK, and went all out to be the belle of the (Pink Ice) Ball.
I managed to get a show stopping hot pink dress donated free from the fabulous designers at Freemans.
 Also a chauffer driven car for the evening, courtesy of local Harrow company, Classic Cars. She who dares, gets it for  nowt.

Or more fittingly, she who runs herself into the ground, gets struck down with flu in the most important week of her social calendar.

 Yes, I was practically near death when the ball came, but that wasn’t going to stop me.
 Dosed up on Beechams, Benelyn and Halls menthol, I managed to upstage Max Clifford, Jade Goody and Westlife on the Red Carpet and make quite an entrance.

After giving all my journalist contacts advanced warning of my attendance (and with a little help from my flirty Freemans dress) the flashbulbs started popping – admittedly, blinding me in the process – and the photographers started shouting my name to get my attention. It was insane…and a little scary!

Once inside, it was a (pink) champagne reception then onto dinner, where I sat with the larger-than-life Christopher Biggins – almost a caricature of the archetypal theatre actor with anecdotes of Macbeth and “Ah, the good old days!”

He was fabulous, and completely over shadowed the surprisingly reserved Patsy Palmer in their roles of co-auctioneers for the evening. (I actually once played alongside Patsy in the Celebrity Netball Sevens a few years back – long story, don’t get me started on that one.)

But as the night wore on and my medication wore off, my inelegant coughing fits forced me to make an early exit from the ball.

This prolonged bout of flu was helped along nicely by another unbelievable invitation earlier in the week to Lily Allen’s secret London gig.
Despite being “out of practise”, as she said, due to her American tour being cancelled and being considerably bladdered on the free wine, she was amazing. I felt privileged - and uber cool - to be part of such an intimate gig.

Guys and gals, as of this moment, Hayley Nolan is officially hip – and confined to bed rest for the remainder of the week.