Farewell Soho! Part 1

It's official! I am no longer a Soho Queen!

(Note: this turned into a very long post and I started writing it in early July. I decided to split it up for ease of reading. Part 2 coming very soon, on this page!)

Yesterday was my last day in my little Soho Palace, all my furniture and possessions left in a van last night. Today I spent a few hours cleaning and putting out the rubbish, and then locked the door for the last time!
I should perhaps explain why I've decided to write a blog post about this! I have lived in Soho for quite a substantial time, almost 8 years. After being a Stokey "Girl" for a while I moved in with my boyfriend in Soho in 2003, and we lived together for over 5 years. On top of that I have always worked in Soho, since coming to London in 2000, and have taken a keen interest in the local life, culture and gay scene, working closely with charity organisations based in Soho.

After almost 6 years my boyfriend and I broke up. For a while I thought that this was my natural cue to leave London, and I even did, for 2 months. I went abroad, the aim was to start a new life, but no matter how I looked at it I felt like I had left my heart and soul in London, in Soho! So I came back, I found a flat in Soho and got on with it!

This is when I "found myself" so to speak. I had friends, sure, but they were mostly part of my ex's group, and I felt the need to go out and make my own social circuit so to speak! So, I bought some supplies, made an outfit, and ventured to Trannyshack! Having heard and read about the club, and having done drag in the past (link) it was something I was keen on doing again and getting back into.
Going alone to a place like this can be daunting, and I was a little tense as I walked in, but the crowd were very welcoming and I had a blast! The first time there, and I met some very interesting people and formed some great connections, and I wanted more!

My sewing machine became busier than ever, knocking up little numbers as often as I had time to sit down! Next, I went to an event at G-A-Y at Astoria, and bumped into my old friend Cookie Monstar, who at the time didn't know I had gotten into doing drag! Cookie and I go way back, but she had spent some time away from London so we had lost touch. Now back together we started hanging out a lot, and as Cookie is a brilliant and very busy performer I started coming to most of her shows. She did a regular Sunday spot at Molly Moggs in Soho, hosted by the magnificent Dame Julie Paid, and after a while the three of us got together and created the West End Girls. For our first production we took on a mini version of Priscilla the musical, a 45minute extravaganza with more than 10 costume changes, complete with a 10foot glittery stiletto! We performed our show at various locations around Soho with great success.


Click image to watch video on YouTube!

By this time, I had moved into my new flat, literally on the doorstep of Trannyshack! I set up my sewing machine and got busy, making costumes for the shows. My little one bed soon became more reminiscent of the wardrobe department of a theatre, with dresses, boas, wigs, handbags and shoes!

(To be continued!)

Kylie on a cupcake!

There's a place where you can get a little piece of heaven... with Kylie on top!



Cox Cookies & Cake (yes that is their name) had a special on Kylie cupcakes this weekend, in honour of the pint sized pop princess' shows at the O2 arena (last show tonight by the way!

The only bakery I've ever heard of opened by a shoe designer, Patrick Cox, had sparkling cupcakes adorned with images of Kylie, as well as some topped with glittering pink "K"s, and the shop playing only Kylie tracks.



Attention to detail is key, and the staff wear studded black leather aprons and black jeans, and the walls and floors are glossy black, shelves trimmed in bright neon strips! This is not your typical bakery, but more like a cake covered disco! Lush!

Should you find yourselves in Soho, make your way to Brewer street to sample the delights! Should the Kylie promotion be over, worry not, as their regular range is deliciously naughty, featuring black and red skulls made from icing, fizz whizz cola cakes and bling cakes with sugar diamonds. There is also an XXX rated range with boobs and bodies and biceps!

Cakes have never been naughtierwww.coxcookiesandcake.com

Rage against the machines!

Those of you who have experienced the London bus service might know about the ticket situation, but for those who don't, here's a short introduction:

Unless you have an Oyster card, to ride a bus within central London, you will need to buy a £2.20 ticket at the stop, from a little red machine. This machine will sell you a ticket for one journey only, it used to sell day travel passes, but I don't think they do anymore. Paying your fare on the bus is not an option within central London, but as soon as you are outside an invisible border of sorts, this suddenly becomes possible! Strange but true!

The other monday I was going home with my boyfriend, and I didn't have my oyster card on me so I tried to buy a ticket at the stop, but the machine wasn't co-operating.
Now, on the Saturday before I went to his place from the same bus stop and the machine didn't work then, but this time it did react to pressing the button by displaying how much to insert so I thought it had been fixed. But this was not the case! Somehow I ended up somehow putting abt £4.50 in the machine but it wasn't providing a ticket... and that's when the bus arrived!

So we got on the bus, my boyfriend had his Oyster card, and I told the driver the machine wasn't giving tickets even though it had taken more than the fare money, but he wasn't having it and said I had to buy a ticket at some other stop in the area. I repeated that I had used enough money for 2 fares and told him I wasn't going anywhere, and he claimed that since I couldn't prove this, I couldn't ride.

At this point, enough was enough, and we informed him that the defect ticket machine was not our problem and that I had paid and we were going to sit down... to which the driver reacted by shouting after me that he wasn't going anywhere till I had a valid ticket! And then he promptly stopped the bus!
So I got up, went up to himand asked him if he seriously wasn't going to drive the bus anywhere... to which he replied yes, so... I called the police!

Now this never happens when it's something serious, but as luck would have it there were 3 police men on the opposite side of the street and they came over. I calmly explained the situation and told them the outcome and the attitude that the driver had presented us with, even added that if there was a ticket control and I had no ticket I would be to blame and would have to defend myself. and they agreed with me and said he was being unreasonable, and even vouched for me! One officer quoted his badge number and told the driver to contact him if there was any further issues.

Begrudgingly the driver had to start the engine and keep moving "not to further clog up traffic" as the police officers said.

I'm not normally one to cause a commotion, but I know when I'm right and I won't stand down. TfL has set up this system which fails on a very regular basis, and buses are extremely infrequent in Central London. Personally I feel that if their system fails it is not the customers problem. If you have to buy a ticket at the stop in Central London the machines should be checked and serviced at least every day if not even several times a day. And, as a customer services person myself I find the attitude shown by not only this driver but several drivers on TfL buses shocking.

From that day I will stand up to any TfL bus driver who does not meet my expectations. TfL say they will not tolerate abuse towards their staff, so why should we, the paying customers tolerate it from them?

Feel free to share your experiences with bus drivers and the like with others here.

Love peace and justice, Diamond xxx

Two Queens, a biker jacket and a pair of peep toe stilettoes.

This is a true story, whether or not you choose to believe it, however, I am not saying that this is the actual reason for the outcome described at the end... (No peeping! Sorry, bad joke!)

Some time late last summer, or was it fall, I went out with some friends on a friday evening to go to a club we all like to hang out at, for no other reason than it being local to all of us. It was a slightly nippy evening, and I had decided to wear my vintage black biker leather jacket, you know, the type James Dean was often pictured in, with red satin lining and silver metal zips on every pocket and down the front.

The zip pull had long broken off, and I had replaced it with a charm from a broken necklace, a small skull charm, fitting the Biker Rock Chic look. Anyway, as you can imagine, the temperature is slightly different in a busy-ish club, and I soon got too hot to wear my jacket. And so it was that I took it off and here is where the story starts.

There was a small seating area next to where we were standing so I left my jacket there, thinking it would be safe as there were only us and another group of people standing here. We were chatting and having a few drinks, dancing on the spot and generally having a good time, when my friend says:

"Isn't that guy wearing your jacket?"

I looked behind me, and lo and behold, one of the guys from the group next to us is most certainly wearing my Biker Rock Chic pride, all while doing a camp little shimmy! I stared in disbelief, and I guess it was noticeable as one of his friends pointed at me as if to say "You've been busted!"

The guy turns around, looks at me and says, stupidly:

"Oh, is this your biker jacket? Hmm... not very trendy is it?"

I stared incredulously and replied:

"Indeed it is mine, and I suggest you wear it no more!"

To which he replies, by means of turning to his friend:

"It isn't trendy though, but maybe you could make it trendy! How about sending THIS down the runway next season? Hahaha!"


That's when I realised that one of his friends was Alexander McQueen... Now, I have seen him around in London before, but he's not really that noticeable and I don't mean that nastily, he just isn't.. so I hadn't noticed! Well, needless to say I got my James Dean garment back and refrained from further comments and unnecessary bitchiness and left them to drunkenly design the next McQueen collection based on borrowed items from nightclub punters..

Fastforward to last week, my friend Louise had bought her weekly Grazia and we were looking through it to see what celeb has done what to whom, when I came over this picture:


ALEXANDER MCQUEEN Skull zip front ankle boots £595.

All I can say is I am now waiting for the Forgotten Umbrella dress in the spring/summer 2010 collection, as I can't find my umbrella...

Kissing frogs.

"Suffer For Love" by Mutya Buena

Has love lost its meaning?
Am I destined not to feel it?
Baby, I have
And I just don't know it when I'm in it

Is it me to blame
I really need to change
This pattern I'm seeing
I don't wanna be in

Why I gotta mess it up
And get it wrong
Like some kind of curse

Why do I have to suffer for love
Suffer for love
I've given it everything
Still it ain't happening
I'm sick of it all
What does it want
It's asking too much
I'm a sucker for a suffer for love

I keep on trying but I don't know how it works
There's no instruction so I keep on getting hurt
Over again, over again, over and over and over again



Some time towards the end of April this year, I met a man. We had seen each other before, and even shared a stolen smile at some point before we actually got talking.
He was tall, dark and handsome, with a beard, and with green eyes that seemed to sparkle. Though not my typical choice of man, we hit it off really well and were seeing more and more of each other.

So, because of what I do, when I meet someone new I always have to consider the best way of telling them that I do drag. When I am not in drag, I am very much a man, as I have said before. I always grow my beard in between, and I dress in jeans, boots and a biker jacket. As it happens, I like to draw a line between reality and illusion.

After a week had passed and we had met up almost every day, I decided that the time was right, and so I 'dropped the bomb'.. not realising it was going to be a bomb!
He was very shocked, and somewhat unsure whether to believe me or not, but eventually said that he thought it wouldn't be a problem. Seeing as it's something I only do now and again, and it isn't a sexual thing for me, he thought he'd be fine. He even started to come with me to other peoples shows, friends of mine, and he was really enjoying himself.
At one point we went on holiday to Spain, and he took me to see the largest drag show in the area, and translated all the jokes! I was thinking this would work out really well...

Until suddenly I get a phone call from him, and he sounds a little vague, so I ask him if everything is ok, and assure him he can tell me anything. It turns out that he is not comfortable with the drag thing and doesn't want to see me anymore.
Now, I'm not stupid, and I personally think this is rather shallow, but it is his decision and I'm not going to try to make him change his mind, so I tell him there is nothing more to be said, and wish him a happy life... We have not spoken since, but we see each other out and about still.

A few months later, I'm out with some good friends, and I get chatting to this very interesting looking guy, slightly alternative, and very handsome. Those of you who know me will know who/what I mean but I'm not going to divulge any more info.
This time I don't even have time to think about telling him anything, as one of my 'good' friends blurts out: "He's a drag queen!"
To which he replies: "Fabulous!"
I'm thinking: "We're on to a winner!"

History has a tendency of repeating itself, and we hit it off like a house on fire, and see as much of each other as time will allow us in the next weeks. He tells me he used to go out partying in heels and dresses, and still does now and again, for the fun of it, but not in a 'drag queen' manner. In fact, I got to experience it one night and he looked brilliant!

When you meet someone new and you start dating, it is sometimes quite difficult to gage the right time to discuss your relationship, where you stand with each other. So, you leave it for a bit, hoping the other person will take the initiative.
We never got to that conversation, and one evening we went out, he decides to invite two other guys back with us, and clearly not for a crochet lesson...

Now, it has to be said that I am far from a prude, and I have done a lot of things in my life that could probably shock the unshockable, and under normal circumstances I would have had no problem with this situation. But, as we hadn't had this conversation and we didn't know where we stood, I suddenly felt really uncomfortable with it all, and yeah, probably a little jealous as well. Not wanting to share him with anyone.
So, I left ten minutes after arriving at his house.

The next day he texts me to say: "Hope you got home safely!" Clearly he didn't see or understand how this had affected me, so that evening I told him. To make a long story short, that's when I decided to phase him out of my life. I stopped texting him, calling him, and we had been sending 15-20 texts every day since we met.

Eventually he texts me to invite me to his flatmates birthday party, and so I decided to give him one more chance and turn up. We had a fantastic time, and I left his house Friday morning... and then nothing. Four days pass before he surfaces, telling me some nonsense story about not having been able to contact me. My good friends had seen him out all weekend.

I'm now thinking I'm better off alone, and it leaves me thinking I don't want to look for anyone, but I know deep in my heart I want to find that someone special, the one who thinks the world of me and wants to be with me. The one who actually thinks the sun shines out of my ass, as my friend put it!

But seriously, how many frogs does one need to kiss?

Footnote: I would like to clarify that the time line of certain events has been altered for ease and flow of the post.