it's the end of the world as we know it

Joe: this one's for you.

Turn on the soundtrack, if you please.














So Joe and I were sitting on the deck of my parents' beach place, last summer, and he couldn't believe I didn't know about December 21st. Where have you been, Jill? he was asking. Hello? The Mayan Calender? The End of Days?

I remembered talking about it with my Egyptian (via Geneva) friend, Natalya, in Cafe Nero, about how all the religions are saying the same thing, and we were wondering if it wasn't going to one of those self fulfilling prophecies, where someone's gonna go and do something stupid, and I was asking Joe, 'So what are you saying, we're all going to die?' NOT NECESSARILY! he kept saying, and was telling me about how everyone's been existing on these opposing frequencies, which I get, but it's starting to get more intense - I get that, too. And then the next day, while we were swimming, I had an idea for a film - or another novel. December 21st comes along, and the world doesn't end. No one gets hurt. It just turns out there's this glitch in the system, and - the thing that no one could ever see coming - the internet goes down.

And stays down.

Everyone, at first, thinks it's just them. And they do what they usually do - reboot, restart, whatever, and then they get really pissed off.. and then they try to call someone. And they're on hold for hours, because everyone's calling someone.. and no one can help, because, uh, the internet is down.

I started imagining life without the internet. We wouldn't be having this conversation, for starts. I could only play the music on my collection of CD's, or sing the songs in my head. No one would know how much money they had, so we wouldn't be able to take cash from the machines. We'd still have food, and homes, but we'd have to either start some kind of barter system, or a few fights might break out. I was telling a friend that I wanted to write a book and he said 'well you'd better write fast.'

There was a great show on it, last night, on More4 - The Mayan Apocalypse 2012 - which, alas, I can't get On Demand. Which I might as well get used to. Because come December - if my prophecy is correct - we're not gonna get anything On Demand, now matter how much we demand it.

If the end of the world as we know it is coming in ten and a half weeks, we might as well shop.

Westfield East just celebrated their one year birthday. And the nice people who asked me to take part in the campaign last time, have asked again. And because I had such a great time there during the Olympics - and went again last week, to meet a friend, and I still love it there, the architecture, all my favourite shops and cafes - the good feeling still remains, just less hoards of huddled masses - I figured, why not. If you click here, you can do something to change the world. You can hand me 50p. That's 75 American copper pennies. That would buy me.. let's see.. wow, a fifth of a flat white at Cafe Nero. Which they have - a lovely branch - at Westfield. So please, please, click here: it won't cost you a think, you needn't sign up for anything and besides, I want them to know how popular I am.

All photos shot by me at Westfield East, during the Olympics. Apart from the top shot, which is by my friend Joseph Keller, who's been on both sides of the camera, as model (he's worked with Scavullo, among others) and now, photographer. Oh and the last shots of me, by my darling husband, who doesn't remotely claim to be a photographer - he's more like a human tripod.

hello, sailor!

It was the end of my first day at the Olympics - not inside the Park itself, but my first time at Westfield East, which was in itself simply amazing: it's such a buzz there, it's basically the Olympics, with food and great clothes. And I was standing there, thinking, wow, for the rest of my life, I can say I WAS THERE - one of those glorious moments when you're so glad to be alive - and suddenly, this man appeared, like a ray of sunshine.

Just as he passed, he noticed me shooting, and it was that moment of: isn't it wonderful. This whole thing. WE'RE ALL HERE. And everyone photographing each other, posing in front of the entrance to the park.. it's all about the same thing. We want to record this moment: to bear witness. WE WERE ALL HERE.

What feels so glorious about this.. I know the women competing are just as amazing, more so, in so many ways, but there's something eternally MALE about the Olympics. Something that goes back so deep in our memories. There's such a great male presence: the soldiers and sailors and athletes - real men. Real stars. Something so primitive: We will protect you, it feels like they're saying. You womenfolk, and children, and elderly, sick and infirm. You don't have to worry about a thing. We're here.

And besides, let's face it: what girl can resist a man in a uniform.