If People Were Pasta


A year or so ago saw my first visit to one of the many Jamie’s Italian joints around the country. I dined at the Manchester site, which had previously been a magnificent bank that my grandma had worked in in her youth. You can read my glowing review here.

Since that day, the Jamie’s Italian chain has remained a great favourite of mine for its delicious but always unfussy meals. In this post, I’ve taken inspiration from the Jamie’s Italian guide to pasta (because I never met an Italian carbohydrate I didn’t like), and imagined what would happen if they sprouted arms and legs, became sentient and walked among us. Oh, the things I do for journalism. 


The life and soul of every social gathering. Has over 1,500 friends on Facebook and has met every single one of them. Excels at anything they turn their hand to. Is practically perfect in every way, though stubbornly messy and elusive.




A many-layered individual capable of astonishing thoughtfulness the one minute and misguided tactlessness the next.



Best experienced in small doses, the gnocci is overbearing and capable of intimidating even the most headstrong introverts. Is the type to interrupt during group interviews and take phone calls in the silent carriage of the train. A lie down is required after encountering.



An impeccably styled gentleman who is personally offended by sweat pants. Drinks double espressos with a drop of milk and stockpiles favoured editions of GQ on his otherwise classics-filled bookcase. Serial charmer of parents and purveyor of richly coloured and always-matching socks.



The couple rarely seen out of each other’s desperate clutches. Will not unlink hands for anyone, no matter how thin the pavement. A strong aversion to separation should a Shakesperean–sized tragedy befall one or the other. Prone to exchanging saliva liberally in the packed car of the Tube.



Unable to leave the house without a slick of frosted lipstick. Counts Cher of Clueless and Elle Woods of legally Blonde as her muses. Is revolted by the very idea of a onesie. Makes walking in six inch heels appear fuss and pain free.



Ditzy and excitable but uses the word ‘bubbly’ in online dating profiles. Has changed very little since high school days and is therefore exceptionally easy to pin down.



The friend who is 5’3” and under. Is lifted off the ground by tall friends by way of greeting. Expert counter-climber for top shelf reaching purposes. Packs a surprisingly tough punch for someone so small.



Easily seen through.


This post is in collaboration with Jamie’s Italian.



In the time since my last #fashiongram I have moved to London, inhabited a new flat and started a shiny new job at Brand Alley. You’d think that would mean difficult-t0-navigate and fusty monochrome workwear. Thankfully, working in fashion means that employees have a pretty free reign of what they choose to put on in the mornings, and that means that I’ve been doing my usual experimental thang.
I’ve been tying an old piece of a dress belt around my neck for a fab and free little wardrobe update; the little nod to the Wild West through a shoe lace to the throat is something that is both easy and chic.
I’ve also been loving ASOS as usual – especially the red matador hat which drew quite a lot of funny looks in my new local, and the sweary tee that I wore this week since my boss is on holiday…