Thursday, 18 August 2011


The Countess of Brighton and Hackney is to host and event in one of Hove's finest venues, the H Bar. The event is a carnival of fine clothes fit for queens and kings and in betweens.
Some of Brighton's best artists and designers are to exhibit their finery.
Details below dear friends!



A Recession Proof Show

On the 17th of September, sponsored by fetish model Ms Poppy Cock, 
the Buttercream Bakery, H Bar and Goddamn Media, Brightonians 
and visitors alike will be beckoned towards the first and only fashion 
show of its kind.

Some of our cities best loved characters including the Countess 
of Brighton and Hackney (of Come Dine With Me Fame) and Peter 
Jarrette are involved in this creative afternoon of colour and design.
Designs are inspired by the unity and friendliness of Brighton and 
its unique spirit, some politically motivated referencing recent 
unrest and others inspired by the simple things in life like tea and cake.

The show will prove that fashion does not need to be costly.

The only rule of entry for exhibitors is that the design was made or 
styled or glued or stapled in the four week period before the event.

Free entry with complimentary cupcakes for early arrivals

4pm-8pm on the 17th of September 20011

Get in touch if you would like to exhibit or for any other questions.



Sunday, 7 August 2011

The Goddamn Media Agency for Characterful Inhabitants of Brighton and Hackney

A visit to an eminent specialist in the field of feminine balances has confirmed that one is not suffering from the symptoms of the climacteric after all. This factor has more than distressed your Countess who was already looking forward to a retirement from the expected performings of women in their reproductive years....well of a fashion at least. Indeed I have quite the opposite of a lack of hormones, an influx of them moreover which seemingly is the potency behind some behavioural difficulties that my shrink has been dealing with, seasoned liberally with his despair. So be it, methinks, and armed with youthful hormonal vigour I have returned to business activities.

I am to head a campaign for the employment in the arts of some of our most flamboyant and grandiose characters from the boroughs of Brighton and Hackney. How thrilled I am to have been considered for such a position, realising of course that my regal and media connections put me in good stead for success!

Saturday, 6 August 2011

Cheese and Sleeze

The Palace received an invite to sample cheeses and wines in a delicatessen of fine produce. I escorted mother who was outshone I feel somewhat by the family crest upon the Countess chest. The image seemingly draws attention to one's finer assets.

The venue for the evening was an establishment in Hove called La Cave and the event was hosted by a charming Frenchman and several farmers. The Countess was welcomed most appropriately with fine white wine and was witness to an exciting demonstration of cheese hint of sarcasm was truly an enjoyable lecture and one learnt so much. Are you aware readers that heifers are impregnated initially by smaller bulls and latterly by larger ones? I immediately saw similarities with my own history of reproduction and my first small husband.

La Cave is fast becoming renowned for its cheese platters.......I wait patiently for an invitation from one of my suitors or to attend their new cheese club at the very least. And the Countess is not to be outdone by the residents of South Kensington (where Le Cave behold a sister branch of lesser interest) who do not require pricings on the fare and think little of eighty guinea chunks of cheese!......the people of Brighton are thrifty by comparison, no vulgarity or excess on these fine streets, not of cheese at any rate for the people of our borough concern themselves with other excesses....those to be enjoyed next week at Pride!

Slumber in peace, God bless you all.

Subterfuge, conspiracies, deceptions and tattoos.

The Countess proved her sturdy constitution quite recently with the marking of a regal crest upon her decolletage.

I was escorted in the royal golden carriage by the Baron, Rupert de la Mare, to a small peninsular called Godsport, a very minor and insignificant hamlet along the south coast towards Southampton. The journey there was most pleasant despite the Baron's late arrival.....alas his time keeping is unimproved since his leaving the Brighton Palace for his a la mode apartments in Kemptown. (I was invited finally to said abode after several persuasions and reasonings.....the apartments have a handsome sea view and are guarded, due of course to the Baron's stashes of wealth and trinkets therein, by a ferocious beast imported from the Americas. I was most pleased by the Baron's success at independance and indeed at his fine taste.)

Now however, I must 'fill you in' readers on a crime that was perpetrated upon the Baron himself. A cousin from the insignificant peninsular I speak of was to attend our good borough for no other purpose we believe than a robbery of the a la mode apartments. The gent, hardly more than a boy, is an unsophisticated brute, badly educated, practically illiterate and with the manners of a baboon. He is a distant enough relative, at least in miles, spawned from an accident of choice that my brother made during a lapse of concentration as he was targeted by a gold digger of the worst caliber.
Sadly for the Baron, his excellent breeding and fine moral fiber has always dictated his honour and commitment to charity and those less fortunate than ourselves, buffered yet more by the honour to blood ties and to kith and kin.
The Brighton staff at my Palace were not made aware of the presence of the brute until a message sent urgently across the borough revealing a theft of moneys from the Baron's private quarters......a thousand guineas no less, removed from the safe. The cousin had pretended for two days to be the Baron's comrade, a consort even in his business, privvy to his affairs of state and to his private banking procedures.
The Baron was bereft at the betrayal, more that than over the moneys that were now lost!

Now quite by coincidence it was that the Lady Helena of the Heaths of Godsport was reserved some months prior to emblem the family crest upon the Countess decolatage in the very same town that this cad had hailed from. So it was that the Baron was quick to attend to my accompaniment there.

This town was quite uncomfortable from the onset for the inhabitants appeared to be entirely related; even the children had cellulite and I feel sure they compass webbed feet or worse still. There was a sense of warped time and Jeremy Kyle about the streets and toothless boys playing banjos on rooves would not have been misplaced.
Alas dear readers worse was to come for as the Countess lay on her back, fortified by nothing more than de la Mare du Valentine stamina (not for the first time of course, remember the C(o)unt) the Baron had been ambushed, due to a prior call, ney a tip off, by the entire Godsport constabulary. It took a further twenty-four hours of influence and status to secure the Baron's release! Rumours were rife amongst the simple people of the town that the Baron had visited prior with the dog from the Americas and some assistant thuggery........and there was silly rumour of a gun!

Thank the Lord then that the jinxed expedition at least resulted in Lady Helena's fine art piece.

 God bless you all my children.

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