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Get the latest news on all things virgin right here. From brushes with fame to vampires, vibrators and beyond.    Why am I flirting with Buffy's Nicholas Brendon? Did I bare my flesh in a sex shop? Set your mouse free and find out. NOTE: CURRENT stories are in the panel on the right. All the OLDER stories are listed below in reverse order. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * JULY - 2004 - Fresh virgin face! It was time to say goodbye to old virgins and say hello to new. Managed to get my very own Aussie paparazzi - the fabulous Jennifer Ferguson - to snap me au natural for the new virgin club image! The beachball shown here was magically transformed into a big plump cherry by my husband Kym (in between a fresh edit of the new show's DVD content. You can see the final image HERE. As a poster, it was plastered all over Edinburgh - in some form or another. And no, I'm not telling you if I'm really naked underneath the giant cherry. Where's the mystery in that? * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * APR - 2004 - Getting virginal with Veruca. She's the one, the only Veruca Salt of Willy Wonka legend - and now she's a 'renewed' member of the virgin club too. Veruca - or Julie Dawn Cole to her friends - was in Melbourne co-starring in a show called Willy Wonka Explained. Managed to persuade her to sing 'I want it now' with me - a spine-tingly moment for this Wonka fan! * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * MAR - 2004 - The Virgin on Breakfast Radio! Australian Rock legend, Red Symons joined the club when he interviewed me on his crack o'dawn ABC radio show in Melbourne. I wasn't allowed to mention the unmentionables - although I was tempted to do a Madonna and mention 'em! But I was good and coy and let slip a 'lipstick vibrator' only once. Red was fabulous though and on fine caustic-witted form. He would've gone all the way I think - at a later hour... Click HERE to hear the FULL 7ish minute interview. (If the Geek Gods are in a good mood it SHOULD open as a QuickTime file and play automatically. And if you're brave you can download the full MP3 file by clicking HERE. It's a 6.9mb mp3 file that should open and play in a new window.) * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * MAR - 2004 - SOLD OUT in Sydney! What more can I say? Took great pleasure in posing for the snaps with the words "SOLD OUT" as big as they could possibly be. And Kym thoroughly enjoyed turning people away with the words, 'Sorry, we're sold out.' - said in the nicest possible way of course. Seems that elusive thing they call 'word of mouth' actually does exist and isn't just the figment of some overpaid PR's imagination. Ready for more now. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * JAN - 2004 - Fake orgasm in London's West End. London's historic Theatre Royal Haymarket, played host to my first-ever West End fake orgasm in late January. Treading the boards where Oscar Wilde put on his first plays was a thrilling and terrifying experience. Big lights, big stage, big bloody butterflies! The audience was warm, laughs came easily and even the resident ghost Buckstone winked at me from the dimly-lit wings (well he might have, if I'd seen him!). I strutted. I cowered. Screamed and whispered. Enunciated my little heart out and made sure the ol' diaphragm did its thing - project, project, project. And then... Before I knew it, the final spotlight had faded and I was back on planet ordinary again. But I walked off stage and winked back at Buckstone smug in the knowledge that I had performed the first-ever fake orgasm for a Theatre Royal audience - BEFORE the curtain went up on When Harry Met Sally on February 10. It's the little things... ! * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * DEC - 2003 - Lette's get personal. The night I met the Diva of Double Entendres, the Princess of Puns - Ms Kathy Lette (think feisty Australian uber-glam writer who keeps miffing the London Establishment with her satires on love, life and childbirth. Fabulous.) Kathy and I swapped small talk on fake orgasms and black leather in amongst a sea of pinstripes and pearls at London's Savoy Hotel. Kathy was the Savoy's writer-in-residence. Am desperate to find out how she scored this gig - and if other bite-sized Aussie female scribes are welcome. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * NOV 2003 – It CAN be as good as the first time... They say it's never as good as the first time, but I risked it - and loved it even more, the second time around... the virgin club was back on stage in November as part of the Theatro Technis Festival of International Theatre & Arts. Word of mouth had spread and more people 'joined the club' than ever before. Feedback has been great and er, original. One comment in particular was interesting... 'I came for the fake orgasm... show should have more of these.' Hm. Multiple fake orgasms? Well maybe - just not in quick succession. I need my rest. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * NOV - 2003 - Giving good voice. London Greek Radio and Vasilis Panayi have lost their virgin club er, you know what. To promote the show in at the Pleasance in November 2003, Vasili and his magical, mysterious eyebrows asked me questions about Greekness, virginity and my future plans. I did a little on-air performing but had to stop short of saying vagina - sensitive listeners apparently. Still, nether regions or not - it was fun and we even managed to give away some tickets to some rather excited women - one in particular was keen on bringing her mother. Hm. Can I say vagina with her? * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * NOV - 2003 - Losing it on stage. On Tuesday, 16 September the lights went up on my one woman show - based on monologues taken from the virgin club. The Pleasance Theatre - one of London's leading Fringe theatres, stole my stage virginity. And frankly, I loved every second. The show was directed by Edinburgh Fringe veteran, Chris Head - a softly spoken, carrot and beetroot juice addicted, part-time stand-up with a secret lust for wheat. He's pictured here alongside Christopher Richardson aka "The Presence at the Pleasance." You'll also see the very lovely and very talented, Jemma Carpenter - the woman responsible for hitting all the right buttons and calming the 'diva-in-training' before every show. J's the Technical Operator everyone wants - Les Mis almost stole her from me! POST-SHOW breakdown... So was it good for me? Well, every night I had an orgasm for complete strangers. A strangely satisfying experience. I performed for audiences of 'one' to audiences of five giggling American students who applauded said 'orgasm'. Again, a strangely satisfying experience. I was interviewed by London Greek Radio and Cypriot TV (too busy for the Times and BBC) And then one cool Wednesday morning, a theatre critic from the CITY & ISLINGTON NEWS came to one of our shows ... “...the best fake orgasm since Meg Ryan..." he said. So would I do it all again? Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes! Damn, I feel like I'm back on stage again... * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * MAY - 2003 - Sh! I came. I read. Another first has been and gone. On Sunday, May 25, Sh! played host to my first London reading for the virgin club. About 20 people came along for the experience. Dollops of hommous, taramosalata and tzatziki quivered expectantly next to the leather g-strings and fishnets. Wine was poured, giggles were shared and even the media showed up – albeit by accident, from Sweden. With everyone settled in their heart-shaped seats, I launched into it. Happily, my butterflies fled the second I opened my mouth. And I managed to make myself heard over the ‘din’ of strap-ons hanging on the wall. There was laughter and blushed cheeks, a little bit of squirming too. And by the end, I think my audience were glad they came. Even the Swedish journalist. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * MAY 2003 – heavy breathing The other day I met with one of the managers for Sh! about my in-store reading. If you haven’t heard of Sh!, think dildos, feather boas and a smorgasboard of vibrators including the incredible Ms Jessica Rabbit – a multi-functional pink rubber wonder with a strategically positioned, hardworking little bunny. After the meeting, I headed for the rack of leather basques. And within minutes, the very helpful Jen was squeezing me into a naughty black number. I emerged from the changing room with a waist at a ridiculous 22 inches – and my credit card in hand. As I signed my deep breaths away, a woman in a sensible blonde bob walked in quietly. ‘I’ll be with you in a moment.’ Jen smiled as she wrapped up my basque in pink tissue, decorated it with a pink feather and popped it into a pink bag * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * MAY 2003 – They came. They bought. They came again. On a glorious Spring day I set off for the annual Vitality show held in an enormous exhibition hall in West London. The Show was filled with everything from garlic choppers and Greek yoghurt to fizzy bath bombs, yoga mats and sex toys. with the Sh! logo screaming all over it. Sh! – London’s only sex shop (or Erotic Emporium) for women – had set up a stand and I wondered whether it was arousing much interest. ‘Yeah! Women have stopped by who would normally never come into the shop.’ Some were too scared to touch any of the ‘rubber heads’ and strangely shaped pleasure sticks (as I occasionally like to call them), but they came, they touched and eventually they bought. Or is that the other way around? Unable to resist, I bought a new ‘piece’ myself in the shape of a key ring – a little chrome, a little plastic, a little piece of jacket-pocket heaven. I got some free caramel-flavoured lube thrown in too. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * APRIL 2003 – Decaffinated Orgasms I met with a bubbly PR recently in a busy Leicester Square cafe. We talked about press releases and publicity shots and while we waited for the caffeine to kick in, I decided to give her a quick reading from the virgin club. The lunch time crowd started to arrive and our corner of the cafe was soon swarming with office types clutching dog-eared copies of 'Hello'. It was quite a challenge staying discreet, yet animated about vibrators and sensory meltdowns, but I tried. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * MAR 2003 – a virgin in the body shop I went to the London Book Fair in March and met an interesting woman named, Anita Roddick. She smiled and shook my hand and next thing I know I’m chatting to the founder of The Body Shop about the stuffiness of the publishing world. ‘I’m going to publish the book myself.’ I said. ‘Fantastic!’ she replied and handed me her daughter Sam’s card who runs an upmarket erotica shop in Central London called, Coco de Mer. The business card features her husband’s testicles. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * MAR 2003 – finding new members on the Buffy set I was in LA recently interviewing the lovely Nicholas Brendon who plays Xander in Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Kym (my husband) and I are currently producing our first documentary called Famous Lost Words. It’s about famous people with stutters. And as someone who’s stuttered since childhood, it’s a subject I’m quite passionate about. As part of our documentary, I’ve interviewed Sam Neill and now Nick – both fantastic, down to earth men, who just happen to ‘trip up’ in their speech once in a while. They’re living proof that stuttering needn’t stand in the way of kicking dinosaur or even vampire butt. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * |
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