Stranded Tallulah Love lingerie models rescued by bus driver

Nov 13 2011
by Emily Potts, Sunday Sun

THESE lingerie models braved freezing temperatures after they were left in the lurch by their transport home.

But help was at hand for the 30 beauties, who stood stranded on the pavement, when hero bus driver Colin Trevis came to their rescue.

The girls, from lingerie company Tallulah Love, needed to get from their Gateshead office to the Baltic in time for the celebration of the Turner Prize.

And the bus was quickly dispatched from the depot and the girls made it to the venue in time.

Passers-by scratched their heads as they got a glimpse of the 30 lingerie models on board on the double-decker bus. Bus driver Colin said: “In the 20 years driving I have never had to carry a group of passengers dressed like this before.”

Stephanie Cash, one of the models from Tallulah Love thanked Go North East for their help after Colin got them to the event in time.

She said: “As a small business looking to grow it’s important we attend launches and get our brand out there so this event was essential for us.”

Martin Harris, Commercial Director for Go North East, said: “This wasn’t one of our normal bus services that’s for sure but it was fantastic to help and great that they thought of us instantly so we could offer a service to get them there. We wish Tallulah Love all the success in the world going forward.”

Designer Michelle Taylor set up the lingerie company in 2009.

Her sales team has taken thousands of pounds worth of orders from exclusive boutiques and department stores in the UK, Dubai, Holland, Spain and France, and is in negotiations with retailers in Russia and the United States.

Her collection sold well in Fenwick of Newcastle and has outsold global brand Elle Macpherson in one store, and she hopes it will soon be on sale in Harvey Nichols, Liberty of London and Selfridges.

For more details about Tallulah Love log onto http://www.tallulahlove.com

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The Young and The Restless

Recently, I got a text message from my editor. It was a picture of a flyer advertising for single’s night hosted by Susie Cupid.  Are You My Person was written in bold letters above a picture of Humphrey Bogart and Ingrid Bergman holding each other tenderly. Oh, romance! The marketing totally appealed to me; I mean, really, who doesn’t love Casablanca?

Initially, I was afraid that the event wouldn’t appeal to a young crowd and I’d end up at a “seniors’ night,” but in the spirit of being open to possibilities, specifically the possibility that my soul mate also loves classic films and the fear that I wouldn’t have anything to write about this week, I signed up.  Of course, I wasn’t about to drive to Dockside on the Branford shoreline alone; I made Boss Lady and T come with me. Dating is, if nothing else, a team sport.

When we walked in the door, Susie Cupid handed us each a string of Mardi Gras beads. They were part of an icebreaker game in which the object was to earn as many beads as possible by getting people to say, “no.” When I heard how the game worked, I rolled my eyes – getting guys to say no is not my problem. Still, I went for an easy kill: I asked Boss Lady how we were supposed to get beads. She said, “By getting guys to say NO,” and looked at me like I was dumb.  I laughed and demanded her beads. Unsporting, I know, but all’s fair in love and war. 

The girls and I took in the scene, trying to figure out which beads to go after first.  We were the youngest people in the room by at least a decade – two in most cases. Still, I found a few prospects – a miserable looking dude in a brown hoodie and a cutie in a striped shirt.

I quickly called dibs on the guy in the striped shirt and T said, “Um, I don’t think he’s here for the dating thing.” Unfortunately, she was right. He was eating dinner with his grandfather and left immediately after scarfing down a plate of fish and chips.

As I shifted my attention to Brown Hoodie Dude, the event organizers called everyone into the front room to play a game. I quickly finished my glass of wine and joined the crowd, trying to figure out where to best position myself for maximum exposure to Brown Hoodie Dude. He was nowhere in sight.  A flash of brown caught my attention outside; he was sprinting through the freezing rain to his car. He never looked back.

I could tell T was planning a similar escape, but I wasn’t ready to give up on the night.  I scanned the room and saw two ladies drinking Appletinis. They looked like they were having fun so I decided to get an Appletini of my own.

I walked up and toasted both ladies to their brilliant idea. They laughed and introduced themselves. Since I hadn’t had dinner and was quickly working through my second drink, I’m pretty sure I blurted out my entire life story to include some personal and embarrassing details, maybe or maybe not involving my recent online dating horror story. When our glasses were empty, we decided to get another round and find some menfolk to talk to.

A new drink in hand, it was time to strategically position ourselves around a little table and look approachable.

In the spirit of being “approachable,” the Boss Lady loudly alluded to the fact that I like older men. On cue, a silver-haired stud was at my side. I shot her the look of death, looked at him and said, “Um, sorry, not really. I like young dudes. But, not like illegally young or anything. You know?” Charming, right?

The Silver Fox walked away without another word. An older man dating a younger woman isn’t that uncommon and may even be one of the secrets to our evoluntionary success, according to ABC News. Still, I aim for 30-year-olds (plus or minus 5 years).

My eyes frantically darted around the room, desperately seeking someone who could reminisce about Fraggle Rock, the rise and fall of Crystal Clear Pepsi, slap bracelets and pogs. I needed to find someone young enough to have had their Tamagotchi taken away by their 5th-grade teacher.

That’s when I saw The Goatee. I wasn’t wearing my glasses, but I sensed I’d found the only guy in the room who might remember listening to Savage Garden on the American Top 40 Countdown with Casey Kasem.  I smiled.

The Goatee and his friend responded favorably to my subtle nods, waves and shouts of, “HEY YOU!” and I soon found myself in a mixed group with one thing in common – empty stomachs! It was time to move the party to Eli’s for wings.

It didn’t take me long to figure out that neither The Goatee nor his friend were my Person. Not only were their two combined ages more than Boss Lady, T’s and mine combined, they had kids, ex-wives and memories of a world in which music videos did not exist.  I’m pretty sure the feeling was mutual since I was in an especially loud and goofy mood. They probably felt like they were babysitting. Still, we were all just out to have fun, and we were having fun, even though no one wanted to admit it.

I certainly didn’t find my Person at Dockside, but I had a great time talking to people. I find at these events, everyone needs an excuse for going. No one wants to say that they are actually looking for their right “Person,” even though that’s exactly who we are all seeking. The most common excuse I heard on Single’s Night was, “I’m here with a friend” – a statement in which “against my will” is implied.  My excuse was, “I’m a dating columnist, on assignment” with the sentiment of, “my editor made me go” implied. I said it seriously, as if I sometimes I get shot at while on a writing assignment just like those reporters in Iraq.

This is Maureen Dixon, live from the dating scene trenches in the greater New Haven area signing off.

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