It has turned out to be absolutely epic, even if I do say so myself. All the hens are dressed up as different characters from the books – I had a lot of fun assigning those roles. Elizabeth’s twin sister, Jessica Wakefield, is being played by Joely, who said it was bitchy typecasting but was clearly pleased with her starring role. A girl called Nicola is Elizabeth’s dowdy best friend, Enid Rollins, and later tonight, Nic is going to switch wigs and become Enid’s sexier university alter ego, Alexandra Rollins. She’s then going to get really into drugs and sleep with Elizabeth’s boyfriend, Todd Wilkins, just like in the books. Nicola said she’s planning to get as method as possible with her role, and since I’m here in drag playing Todd, I’m pretty intrigued to see where the night’s going to take us.
Oh, that girl Katie Jacks got stuck playing Elizabeth and Jessica’s ‘mom’, Alice Wakefield. The other girls insisted on that as a punishment for all those ‘fucking annoying’ emails she kept sending. Katie Jacks doesn’t seem to mind, though – she is the most enthusiastic person I ever met.
I’ve written a very loose, very short script for all the hens. The idea is that it’s not just a theme for the weekend, it’s aSHOW! Each hen gets one big dramatic reveal about her character during our three days here in Marbs. We all get a ‘scene’ – we all have our big moment in the spotlight. Tomorrow, Jessica/Joely is going to announce she’s joining a cult – she has been rehearsing her monologue for weeks. And earlier today Katie Jacks performed a totally believable – but if I’m honest very much over-acted – storyline where Alice Wakefield got kidnapped at a spa and an old college friend tried to steal her face. Which, come on, has happened to all of us at some point, hasn’t it?
They are all genuine storylines plucked from the books but, given there are hundreds of stories in the series, even diehard fan Lauren has no idea what to expect. She seems to be finding the whole thing hilarious and you should’ve seen her face when we presented her with her purple Unicorn Club outfit. She’s never been happier. I reckon she might wear it out again. Like, all the time.
I feel super proud now, surveying the scene. Everyone’s so into it and has really gone to town with their costumes. There are so many different wigs, girlish Alice bands, and an array of pale pink early nineties jumpers – as well as our sashes that declare us to be members of the Unicorn Club.
It’s a hen do, so obviously there are many arbitrary rules involved in ourSweet Valleygame – like, we’re only allowed to refer to each other as our character names, or there are drink penalties and forfeits. If anyone breaks character, they have to take a shot from the ‘penalty liquid’. The penalty liquid is some awful high-alcohol-content liquid I’m carrying around in my bag, which is – as far as I can tell – essentially blue petrol. But it’s doing the trick, and it’s vital to ensure we cram in the maximum amount of drinking as we move from bar to bar. I’ve never been wholly sold on a lot of the hen do traditions, but the heavy drinking side of it is one I will always be more than on board with. It’s actually really lucky that so many of the characters in the books ended up being terrible drug addicts or alcoholics. It makes staying in character for the drinking games a lot easier.
Anyway, the whole thing has been very very fun and very very funny. But also, admittedly, incredibly confusing. Especially for me, whenever someone calls Lauren ‘Lila’. But there was no question that bride-to-be Lauren would be Jessica’s rich, snobby best friend. Lila is not only the best character in the books by far, but she’s also the leader of the Unicorn Club, so duh. But I keep having to drink whenever I accidentally respond to my own name.
Very drunk now.
Of course, the best part is that Lauren seems to be having the silliest, awesomest time ever.
She’s like a different person, like the old Lauren. It feels like she’s let go of all that fury and frustration that was building up in her. It’s like there was a big wedding-shaped knot in her stomach and talking to us has untied it. She’s laughing and enjoying things again. And – shock horror – talking about the rest of life going on around her. She’s even complaining about work again. Apparently she’s mostly doing tampons now, after they lost their sanitary towel client.
The wedding is just weeks away but she seems more relaxed than ever. I feel a bit bad, actually, because I really haven’t done anything to help in weeks. Every time I ask about it, she says it’s all sorted and not to worry. In fact, she’s barely spoken about the wedding at all. She’s more chilled out than I’ve ever seen her – even when Joely’s latest reality star boyfriend turned up here earlier today to surprise us. I thought she’d be livid about a boy on her hen do, but she was delighted. Turns out she was a fan of that series ofBig Brother. His name is Brian and he loves telling people he was inBig Brother. He’s told us over and over. And over. He told everyone here, he told all the other guests in our self-catering apartments, he told everyone around the pool, he told all the staff, and he told some guys in the loos – and then he came out of the loos and told us he’d told them.
He came to Marbs to surprise Joely, which is super sweet and she looked genuinely excited to see him. He even got into the spirit of the theme by bravely taking on the role of class clown, super geek Winston Egbert. He looks adorable in glasses and his Unicorn Club sash. He’s said he’ll even do a scene for us! I jokily suggested he perform Winston’s dramatic death – where Winnie got drunk and fell from a balcony. Brian said yes way too enthusiastically and now I’m worried he is going to jump from a balcony for real. I picture him sailing through the air, screaming, ‘I WAS INBIG BROOOOOOOOOOOOTHEEEEEEER...’ Splat.
Anyway, he’s really fun, and I don’t want to speak for Joely, but I have a sneaky suspicion she actually genuinely really likes him. And I don’t think it’s just for publicity stunt purposes. They’re not officially together or anything, but since things slowed down on the wedding planning front, Joely’s had so much more time to spend with Brian. They’ve been doing everything together and I see them on the MailOnline homepage constantly. They seem happy.
He’s gone off to do a personal appearance and a DJing gig now, but he’ll be back in the wee hours for his death scene (hopefully not for real?) and then he’s flying home with us tomorrow night.
Joely is making the most of him being gone, and is heroically flirting with every group of stags we come across. Which is a lot. This road – this area – is officially hen and stag do central. She says she’s just being in character and it’s what Jessica Wakefield would’ve wanted from her – which is no doubt true. She’s on the other side of the street now, making her way around a pack of about seventeen men dressed like babies. They’re in actual nappies and are each carrying a giant milk bottle, presumably filled with something like our blue lighter fuel. It’s possibly the least sexy thing I’ve ever seen in my life, but I don’t suppose they were aiming for sexy. Stag dos are about humiliating each other, right? Making sure the groom is properly and thoroughly brutalised, so he comes back traumatised and feral.
Oh, and if there’s a fatality, that’s a bonus, apparently.
Either way, the nappy-fashion is not stopping Joely. I can hear her signature flirty giggle tinkling across the road now, as the guys all fall over themselves to get her attention. Have you ever seen a groom in a giant baby bonnet trying to do a handstand? Because it’s not a pretty sight. The whole street smells like hormones.
As Joely/Jessica says goodbye to the stag-baby group with a cutesy wave, I vaguely try to herd everyone towards the next bar, where we have a sizeable array of cocktails waiting for us. Oh, except we seem to have lost the bride again. Lauren is very drunk and keeps wandering off. I’ve twice now found her having wees behind bins. Even though, both times, we only left the last bar seconds before.
‘Lauuuuuurrrrrren?’ I call ineffectively. She’s nowhere to be seen, but to be honest, everything more than three feet away is pretty hazy. I am very drunk. Bloody blue penalty liquid. Bloody drinking games. Why did I do this to myself?
That’s right – because it’s awesome.
Joely joins me on the pavement and I note vaguely that her make-up is everywhere. There’s actually lipstick on her eyelids and in her hair. I briefly wonder if she did that deliberately. Her whole job on the internet is to spark new trends and lead the pack. Maybe hair and eyelid lipstick is now a thing?
‘Lauren’s gone again,’ I say conversationally. For once, I’m not worried. I feel quite peaceful, actually. We’re all adults and I refuse to get anxious this weekend.
‘Didn’t you microchip her?’ Joely giggles, rubbing her cheeks absentmindedly.
Oh, there you go! Her hands are covered in lipstick – that’s how it’s spreading so fast.
Wait, is hand lipstick a thing?
Joely continues, oblivious: ‘Oh, and you didn’t call her Lila, so you have to take a shot. Come on, Todd.’ She takes the penalty liquid from me and pushes it into my face. I happily take a swig of the thick blue liquid inside. Bleugh.
Joely laughs at my pain and links her arm with mine. ‘I’m sure I saw her wandering off that way,’ she says, pointing up the street. ‘She’s probably having another piss behind a bin.’
We find Lauren ten minutes later, a little way up the road, in a tattoo parlour. It turns out she’d accidentally started following a totally different hen party, thinking they were us. It’s an easy mistake to make, except that this hen party are all quite clearly Japanese and all wearing very obvious sailor hats. Lauren didn’t notice they weren’t her hens until someone started tattooing an anchor on her wrist. She realised at that point but still got the tattoo anyway. And then a bunch of us decided we should get them too! Because why not! It hurt a lot, but I think it probably looks super cool. I can’t decide. I’ll decide when I sober up. I hope I like it! I hope so, because I think tattoos are forever, aren’t they? But that’sOK, forever’s not that long. And my friend Jamie had her tattoo lasered off last year and it wasn’t that bad. It only cost her thousands of pounds and took months to do. They sort of boiled it off her skin across a series of sessions, but that probably won’t hurt that much... Oh God, what have I done?
It’ll be fine.
Don’t think about it.
