“Mom, I’m on the red carpet at the Oscars!” whispered a man behind me excitedly into his mobile and I knew I wasn’t the only one overwhelmed to be at the most glamorous event in the world. I boldly pulled out my camera and quickly snapped a shot of the gigantic Oscar beside me. It’s not cool but who cares, no-one can be cool at the starriest party on earth. I’ve attended a few major movie events now but the Oscars carpet has a magic of its own. The BAFTAs may have come a long way in the glamour stakes in recent years. And Cannes, despite passé sequins and visible bra straps, may have the beaches and sunshine but nothing can top Hollywood’s biggest night of the year. Yes, we’re talking The Academy Awards. That’s Oscar to you and me. It’s the glitziest party of the year. But first problem? How do you ever get an invite without a nomination or a blood tie to Mr Spielberg? It was a question that plagued me often as I sat at home in front of the television each year watching the parade of gorgeous gowns and tear sodden acceptance speeches. What would it be like, I dreamed, to be in the midst of all that glamour, all that glitz, all that silicone…? Then lady-luck brought me a friend who had ‘connections.’ A few pleading calls suggesting he sell his first born to get me a pass and hey presto! Quicker than you can say ‘blackmail’ ‘threat’ or ‘I’ve got the photographs’, I had it....
“And who are you wearing?” “Thermals and a parka. It’s a bit nippy.” OK, I’m not banking on that answer from the fragrant Amy Adams at...