Sleepless Suzuka

Well, Suzuka has definitely ruined my sleeping pattern, and wasn't fully enjoyed as my viewing was generally semi-conscious. Attempting to rush away from a grimey York nightclub at 1.30 AM after one-too-many vodkas to catch qualifying was inevitably pointless. I awoke with pretty limited knowledge of the grid positions and an all too throbbing reminder of my consumption patterns from the previous evening.

Luckily, I had remembered to record the race itself before the drinking commenced, accepting the similar inevitability that I'd be deeply unconscious by 6 o'clock. As is always the danger in these situations (a danger I apparently insist on placing myself under with any televised sporting event), I had to guarantee avoiding the result, but only within the narrow confines of my own home. No matter how many times you begin a conversation with "don't mention anything about the F1," things rarely fail to escape your knowledge. It was, on this occasion, a mishap on my behalf; I couldn't resist the sound of an F1 engine from downstairs, and craned my neck to listen only to hear "number one spot for Sebastian Vettel." This piece of information on its own was manageable, as the one thing I could remember from last night's inebriated viewing was that Vettel was on pole. Unfortunately, I couldn't resist shouting at my father to turn it off, only for him to reassure me that he'd finished watching the race himself. So from the outset I knew the name of the winner. But it was always a likely outcome. The beauty of Formula 1 is that there are so many incidents and battles besides those at the front. And the 2010 Japanese Grand Prix proved plentiful.

I'm beginning to think that my analysis of a race is pretty redundant considering: a) the wealth of analysis the BBC provides throughout a racing weekend, and b) my lack of knowledge compared to those on our screens. I must confess that I'm a relative newcomer to the sport, having begun watching religiously from the middle of this season. Nevertheless, it has fast become an obsession of mine, and I long for grand prix weekends as if it were a lifelong love. In fact I find myself becoming increasingly disinterested in football compared to F1, something I could never have predicted. Surely that is testament to the excitement of this season, as my father assures me F1 has been predictable and stale in recent seasons. Although I must qualify that floundering interest as the Premier League and International game; my love of the football league is as strong as ever. To prove my commitment to the lower leagues, I'm currently working on an article in honour of some of my local clubs that are no longer with us. Having recently become a resident of the fine county of North Yorkshire, I'm remembering the history of Scarborough Town and Halifax United, two teams that are present in my memory of the football league as a child, and who sadly cease to exist.

On a more upbeat and promising note for our smaller clubs, my boyfriend, a life-long Manchester United supporting Londoner, has made the conscious and honourable decision to start supporting his local team, Leyton Orient. This I applaud, although I do wish he'd opted for a club with a marginally less obnoxious chairman.

Quick fire fun in Glasgow?

This weekend was a treat for sport lovers, and for me in particular. Obviously nothing can better the glamour and trepidation of Formula 1, but Snooker comes pretty close in my world. This does hold a degree of irony, considering the vast gulf in wealth and image of the two sports.

Whilst I was enjoying the Snooker World Open I was reminded of this gulf, and the social divides these two respective sports provide when juxtaposed so poignantly on the BBC Red Button! The working-class pub game on the one hand, and the frolics of the privileged few on the other.

I like to play up my working-class roots, hence I'm never ashamed to profess my love of staring at the balls on the baize every now and again. But I remain undecided about Barry Hearn's "revolutionary" new 5-frame format for the World Open, and if you love snooker you definitely love the long battles of the World Championship. So, I'm left feeling betrayed, as the sport tries to attract a new, impatient audience and neglects the adoration of its true supporters!

And why revert back to a traditional best of 9 in the final? This seemed to betray a week's worth of ranting about and analysis of the best of 5 frames format, making the finale just like that of any other tournament. I appreciate that the final should've arguably given each player a greater shot than the rest of the tournament provided, but why deny its entirely experimental nature when it matters most?

In reality, little really changed about the way each frame was played. There was just fewer of them. If Hearn really wants to make the game quicker and (allegedly) more exciting, then a time limit on shots seems the only solution. I certainly would welcome this as an experiment to mix things up. The performance of the sloth-paced Peter Ebdon in the World Open is proof enough that the new format doesn't automatically create a more exciting spectacle.

Oh what a night!

This weekend provided my first viewing of the infamous night-time Singapore grand prix, and I wasn't disappointed. Bernie Ecclestone is quoted as saying the event is the sport's greatest achievement, and you can see why. Not just the track quality and organisation shine through, but the bordering-on-annoying shots of the Singapore skyline were warranted for their demonstration of what a beautiful metropolis it is. I especially couldn't keep my eyes off the Star Wars-like triple scraper with palm trees and infinity pool perched on top. This place surely is the modern-day Monaco.

Fernando Alonso may have raced to another victory for the once beleaguered Ferrari, but little of the attention seemed to be on him, as miraculous as his drive was. Surely man of the evening was Mark Webber. A fantastic, gripping race from the Australian, with contended team tactics galore. Surprising though it is that Sebastian Vettel remains far faster than Mark, driving the same car and with fewer points for the season, Mark is getting it right when it counts. He may not have the same blistering speed of Alonso, Vettel, or even the two Maclarens, but he is a calculated tactician with a gutsy nack for overtaking on even the tightest of circuits.

Undoubtedly the biggest loser of the weekend was Lewis Hamilton, once again he didn't get it right, although his last two DNFs were hardly his fault. Nevertheless, no-one can legitimately blame Webber for the collision that caused Hamilton's elimination: they're the biggest rivals in the top 5 and Webber couldn't afford to concede any ground at such an opportune moment. It was merely a case of Hamilton's inability to see Webber in his minute F1 mirror.

And what a drive from Robert Kubica. The Renault man is beginning to embarrass his team mate Vitaly Petrov, whom he overtook on his way back up the standings late in Sunday's race after a puncture forced him into his second pit. Surely Kubica is headed for a team with a faster car next season. Rumours about a move to Ferrari for the Pole are beginning to circulate, but judging by the way Massa has been forced to play second fiddle to Alonso this season, even the best of drivers wouldn't fancy that challenge.

Finally, it's a hoorah for Heikki Kovalainen! Yes, he took an alarmingly long time to get out of his flaming Lotus, but criticism that he failed to take the car down the pit lane is plainly ridiculous. The chance of an explosion in a crowded area was something he wasn't willing to risk, and that he was willing to risk his own safety on the track is remarkably brave.

As ever F1 weekends are over too quickly, so I'll refrain from bellowing "bring on Suzuka" in the hope that the season lasts for a little while longer.

Victoria Beckham @ NY Fashion Week

Victoria is allegedly "celebrating curves" this season. The Guardian have reported that the popstar-turned-WAG-turned-hottest designer on the planet had banned super-skinny models from hers shows. In that case, allegations that Victoria isn't very 'hands on' with her label are pretty believable.

I saw the shots from her runway show prior to reading the Guardian article and couldn't have been more shocked that they hadn't questioned the choice of models. Victoria is quoted as saying: "I do take my position seriously and I wouldn't want to use very skinny girls." Clearly, Posh sat this one out. Her models couldn't have been thinner.

Personally, I love skinny models and have many an argument with my friends about it. But to claim your line celebrates a "normal" woman when your clothes are hanging from the bodies of absolute waifs, is downright outrageous.

Aside from that, I loved VB's A/W line, especially the nude pieces.

Forza Fernando!

I'm in two minds about today's F1 result. Obviously, I support my fellow Brits Jensen and Lewis, but I was secretly pleased that Fernando and his perfectly manicured eyebrows managed to keep the Monza crowd happy. It certainly was a spectacle and the right result for any sentimental F1 fan.

As predicted, Spa and Monza have left us with an even tighter driver's and constructor's championships, and I can't help but wake up every morning wishing it was a grand prix day. It is undoubtedly the most exciting F1 championship for years, and with Lewis failing to finish (well, failing to start really), it is wide open.

I so want Mark Webber to do it. But instinct tells me he's too nice a guy to get what he deserves. It's just like those poised situations when you've avoided the scores all day to watch MOTD on a Saturday night, and a lowly relegation-threatened team is playing one of the big boys and winning 1-0 in the 95th minute. By the nature of the eternally subtle BBC editing, you know what's going to happen.

So I continue to revel in this season's F1, with a huge sense of foreboding over my man Mark's chances. Regardless, he is the people's champ.

Progress is on the horizon!

Currently I'm bogged down with my dissertation and getting ready for Barcelona and Benicassim a week today, and my brother's 21st birthday on Saturday.

Unfortunately this has meant I haven't had time to have my own World Cup blog which would've been amazing, but rest assured that I have been verbally blogging to anyone who'll listen.

I'm so incredibly excited for my holiday! This year is going to be a good one. No doubt it'll be the subject of many-a-post when I return.

No fashion week for this sister...

...only LiLo's Haiti bash. If Janice Dickinson says she loves you it's a good week.

Glamour at Millbank, cool fun and tears at Heart&Soul in Hale, Manchester, and double sambuca shots and ridiculous dancing in Shrewsbury.

I definitely got on board this week.

Oh and a new do, I loves. But my bf didn't talk to me for half an hour when he saw it. Ouch!