by Ollie Locke
2. Avoid doing it over the phone because you owe them the respect of having a face-to-face conversation – unless they’ve cheated on you, in which case a text will suffice.
3. Never say ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ because it’s the world’s biggest cliché and no one appreciates it. Even if this is the case, reword that awful line to make it sound like you’ve at least thought about what you were going to say.
4. Be totally upfront, and if you’ve fallen out of love with someone, be honest and tell them. It may seem incredibly harsh but it will help both of you to move on more quickly.
5. Don’t get pissed before you do it because no matter how carefully you plan your words, they will no doubt end up coming out wrong.
6. If they cry, hug them and be there for them – if they want you to, of course. They may decide they never want to see you again, but give them the option.
7. Do not do it within a month of Christmas, their birthday, Valentine’s Day, or the anniversary of their dog’s death. You may be dumping them but you don’t want to seem like a complete arsehole.
8. Never do it when they’re about to go on holiday – wait until they are back. Selfish as it sounds, you’ll only be giving yourself a really shit two weeks as they’ll inevitably be on a shagging rampage in the Swiss Alps.
9. Never do it in their bed. I did that to both London Girl and Gabriella – I really need to learn from my mistake. You have to think about what is best for the other person. At the end of the day, you were together because you cared about them, and just because you don’t fancy or love them any more it doesn’t mean you shouldn’t treat them in the best way possible. You need to respect the time you spent together.
When a relationship that means a lot to you comes to an end, it’s hard to imagine that the pain will ever go away, but life, as they say, moves on, and so it was with London Girl and me. It was my toughest break-up yet and followed my longest relationship, so I planned to stay single for a while. It’s said that you need six months to get over every year of a relationship, so I wanted to give myself space to adapt to being on my own.
They always say when you’re not looking for it, romance finds you, and I must have been releasing some sort of pheromone – maybe one that said ‘Yes, I’m single’ – because I kept getting lots of attention, both female and male.
That time felt like my proper bachelor days. Not that I wanted to go out sleeping with loads of people or having one-night stands – my conscience would never let me. And I started to realise that there are amazing perks to being single. You’re your own boss and you don’t have to answer to anyone. That feeling of independence is incredible. Having said all of that, the sad thing is that I’m pretty shit at being on my own and, given the choice, I would always rather be in a relationship.
After breaking up with London Girl I decided I couldn’t carry on house-sitting and that I needed a real base. I’d stayed in touch with Antalya – who by this point had split from Richard – and she introduced me to her brother Alex. Just like Antalya, Alex and I hit it off straight away and he is now one of my best friends in the world. Before long I’d moved in with him along with two other guys, Barnaby, who I’ve mentioned before, and Toby.
Living with them was like getting a crash course in being a lad, which I think it’s quite clear I have never been. They are all very eligible in their own ways, and they absolutely love women, so we had a constant stream of girls coming in and out of the house.
I, on the other hand, ended up becoming the friendly housemate who would cook them breakfast the morning after, rather than the one shagging them. The funny thing is that since appearing on Made in Chelsea, I’m the one who gets most of the attention, but the guys will always try to swoop in and grab the girl. One of my friends even tells girls that he’s starring in the next series just so he can increase his chances of pulling them. It’s shocking, but it does work. Especially in Guildford. (Doesn’t it, Barnaby?)
Even though the house itself was lovely, we were pretty disgusting. Alex has OCD and is very clean but the rest of us were the same as any guys in their early 20s. We rarely cleaned up after ourselves and would only empty the bin if our life depended on it, which didn’t help poor Alex’s obsession with cleanliness. I’m very house-proud and could think of nothing worse than having a dirty kitchen or bathroom now, but I have no idea how we managed to get any girls back to the place at all in those days.
I’ll never forget the time we watched an episode of Dirty Sanchez, the Welsh version of Jackass. They were doing self-administered colonic irrigation and Barnaby decided it would be hilarious if he did the same using a piece of garden hose and an empty Coke bottle. I’ll spare you the details, but it ended up with a big mess, me and Alex throwing up and Barnaby not being in any fit state to go on the date he had arranged for that evening as he was breakdancing in his own faeces.
We’d relentlessly pull pranks on each other. If anyone ever brought a girl back and was clearly having sex, Alex would play ‘The Lion Sleeps Tonight’ on his laptop on repeat and leave it outside their bedroom door. Even though I wasn’t on the receiving end because I only ever brought two girlfriends to the house, I decided that it was time for him to have a taste of his own medicine, so I played ‘The Wedding March’ outside his room when he brought back a girl he’d liked for ages. Revenge was sweet.
It was all quite juvenile, but good fun. I would love to go back to those times because although thinking about sharing a house with those three reprobates makes me feel slightly sick, they provided me with some of my funniest memories of London.
London Girl made another brief reappearance while I was living with the guys. One Friday night I was having drinks with a friend when I noticed that London Girl had checked in at 151 on Facebook. I sat there mulling things over, knowing that I still loved her. My head was telling me no, but my heart does what it wants, and within 20 minutes I was running down the King’s Road to the club. As soon as I saw her across the room dancing with friends, I forgot all the bad things about the relationship and I realised that I still missed her and loved her so much. I remember her double taking in shock as I walked in, and it felt amazing to hold her in my arms again.
We spent the night together, but the following day we ended up arguing about something irrelevant and she left with barely a goodbye. Suddenly everything felt really, really shit again.
I walked around the flat praying that one of the other boys was in so I could talk to someone. I was tired, hungover and I felt a real sense of despair about everything. When I realised I was alone, I burst into tears and slumped onto the floor, where I stayed for a few hours. I felt lonely, directionless and scared about the future. My hopes of becoming an actor were fading, I was all over the place when it came to London Girl and I knew that I couldn’t spend the next few years of my life watching people throw up in clubs.
I pulled myself together for long enough to pack a bag and get to the number 211 bus to Waterloo station so I could go home to Southampton.
I took time off work and stayed for two weeks with my mum, drinking wine and talking about life. By the time I was ready to go back to London I felt like a weight had been lifted.
And, although I couldn’t see it then, my life was about to take an unusual turn.
I felt it was time for me to move forward and get back on the dating scene – and the first person I got together with after London Girl was a man. Through mutual friends, I came to know a fantastic guy called James, who’s gay, an artist and in his fifties. The first night I met him I knew that he was going to become a very close friend, and he’s now one of my closest confidants. We had such a connection. But before you fast forward, he’s not the guy I ended up with.
We’d been hanging out for a while when one day, out of the blue, James asked me, ‘Ollie, have you ever done anything with a guy?’ I said I found some men attractive, and had once kissed a man, but I didn’t think I was gay. He smiled and said, ‘Come to a dinner party with me next w
eek.’
I wasn’t sure if men were on the agenda for me but I felt like I had nothing to lose by going to the party. I still didn’t really know where my head was following my break-up with London Girl.
As soon as I arrived at the dinner party I could tell exactly who James was trying to set me up with. If I had known at that point I had a type when it came to guys, he was it. Otto is incredibly handsome, tall with a shaved head, and Cambridge educated. He’s calm and funny and I felt very relaxed around him. He also drove a Range Rover, owned two houses and had his own business, and to me, that shows independence and a strong business ethic, which are two things I find very attractive in a person.
We all got slightly drunk and Otto ended up kissing me that night. The stubble still felt weird – I had never snogged a girl with a beard.
Otto and I went on to spend a bit of time together. It was all very innocent – we were just hanging out as friends and going for dinner.
I didn’t know what being gay was all about and I’m still slightly confused about it to this day. I’ve never even had sex with a guy.
I was quite confused about my emotions and wasn’t sure how I was supposed to act – I knew how to be a boyfriend to a girl, but I didn’t know if I needed to act differently with a guy. I know I come across as quite camp on the show, but back then I didn’t think I was camp enough to be gay so I went out and bought a fake fur jacket, which I thought was the perfect accessory to make me gayer. I didn’t realise that you could be gay but still act straight (no one ever tells you this stuff) and I didn’t discover until quite late in the relationship that the reason Otto had liked me was because I wasn’t as camp as some other gay guys. So I slightly fucked that one up, then. I wish someone had written a manual or a Gay For Dummies book. It would have made my life a lot easier.
Otto had an amazing flat in East London, and I remember leaving his house on a Sunday morning and walking down Shoreditch High Street when suddenly the heavens opened and it poured with rain. I have never seen rain like it – it was like something out of an apocalyptic movie. The church bells started ringing and for some reason I felt the happiest I’d been in a long time. I no longer felt alone. Being with Otto made me feel amazing: it was different, more like a friendship – a flatmate with something else thrown in for good measure.
Alex was the first person I told that I was sort of seeing a guy. He was amazing about it, and because he reacted so supportively, I slowly started to tell other people. I was pretty camp and flamboyant anyway so I don’t think anyone was hugely shocked. I didn’t tell my family at this point because I wanted to be totally sure about things before I said anything.
My biggest mistake was introducing Otto to someone as my boyfriend when I was drunk. That might sound odd, but in doing so people immediately started labelling me as a newly gay man. I found this very confusing because I hadn’t quite figured out in my own head whether I was gay, bi or even an experimenting straight man. I didn’t feel like I needed to put a label on myself, but the fact that other people were so quick to judge and put me in the ‘gay’ box put a lot of pressure on me and actually started to upset me a bit. Eventually that took its toll on my relationship with Otto and we drifted apart. We’d been seeing each other for three months, and with hindsight I can see it was such an important period in my life. Through Otto I was able to embrace this other side of my confused sexuality.
Until that point I’d been so consumed by women that I hadn’t opened my eyes to what same-sex relationships would be like. Having a relationship with a man was a huge deal for me, but it felt right at the time and I wouldn’t change what happened. It also showed me how your true friends will always love and respect you for who you are. You just have to trust them, and they also have to understand how difficult it may be for you. Alex and my flatmates were amazing.
A few years later I decided to give a relationship with a man one last chance to see how I really felt. That was with Ross, who I met on the club scene. He was South African and a model – tall, blond and amazingly well built. He was kind and funny, and so nice to me. He was everything I looked for – but he was everything I wanted in a woman.
Ross used to send me presents or a take-away so that when I got home there was a pizza waiting for me. He gave me a first-edition Peter Pan book because it’s one of my favourites. But I found his beard terribly distracting when he kissed me. Of course the other guys I’d kissed had had a bit of stubble, but his was sharp and almost painful. It’s quite off-putting when you’re not used to it.
I tried to like him more, I really did. He was perfect – he just didn’t have a vagina. We did all the usual things like going out for dinners and taking Sunday walks, but it just wasn’t happening for me. After a few months we split up very amicably and I decided to have some time to myself to work out what I really wanted, instead of grabbing onto any kind of affection I could.
There is one famous gay guy I know that I’m incredibly drawn to, but would we work as a couple? Who knows. I certainly don’t go for camp guys. All of the guys I like tend to come across as straight and he has something so special, maybe it’ll happen some time in the future.
Some people have a problem because they can’t pigeonhole me. I would say I was straight, but like 80 per cent of guys out there (including many that you would never imagine to have done so), have experimented with guys at one time or other. You’d be shocked at how many ‘straight guys’ come on to me! My advice is that if you do have a friend who is in a confused situation, just let them be whoever they want to be and be supportive, because I promise you that for them inside it’s harder than it looks from the outside. They may smile through it – perhaps they’ll become more extrovert – but in my experience that’s just to cover up their insecurity. All they want is to be loved and supported.
I’d come to be quite well known on the club scene as a result of working at 151, so I was asked if I wanted to host a night at Mahiki, a nightclub that’s part-owned by Prince Harry’s friend, Guy Pelly. Hosting involves running the door as well as making sure everyone is happy and the guests are well looked after. I loved it – I would spend the night chatting to lots of different people and getting paid for it, which for me is the perfect way to spend an evening.
One of the best things about working at Mahiki was the Treasure Chest cocktails they do. They are literally a vessel the size of a treasure chest filled with booze, mixers and fruit. Club promoting doesn’t pay that well and London life is really expensive, which meant I was permanently broke, so I always made sure that I got my five-a-day by eating the fruit on the side of the treasure chest before I allowed myself to have any alcohol. I don’t think it was the best way to try and stay healthy but at the time it worked nicely!
I put on nights for people like Lindsay Lohan and Emma Watson, and helped to host the Mamma Mia! premiere party. I had no idea what Mamma Mia! was because I hadn’t seen the play or film, but it seemed to be a really big deal judging by all the fuss surrounding it and the press waiting outside.
There was an incredibly hot girl at the Mamma Mia! party who I couldn’t stop staring at. She was so amazing that I decided I would be crazy if I didn’t go up and ask for her number after all my relationship nightmares. My friends encouraged me to pursue her and as she was standing on her own it seemed like the perfect opportunity.
I put on my best strut in an attempt to look smooth (which I rarely pulled off) when suddenly this guy appeared and put his arm around her. I swiftly turned on my heel and walked back to my friends, tail between my legs. I was relieved that he arrived when he did or I would have been knocked back in front of the entire club. And I was even more relieved when I realised that they were in fact the two main stars of the show, Amanda Seyfried and Dominic Cooper. Amanda Seyfried was not that famous back then and so I had no idea who she was. At that point, they weren’t officially out as a couple, but it was fairly obvious that she was taken. Can you imagine if I’d steamed in and tried to chat her up? Dominic Coo
per, star of the movie of the moment and ridiculously good-looking man, versus a penniless club host whose last relationship was with a man. The humiliation would have been too much to bear.
Otto and I had been apart for a couple of months and I hadn’t snogged, or even met, anyone that I liked for some time. With the exception of Amanda Seyfried, of course. Then one night in Mahiki I felt someone come up behind me and pinch my arse.
I turned around with the expectation of a balding older woman looking for a young man to show her a good time, instead to be faced with a girl who looked like a voluptuous Sienna Miller, with the same outrageously good body. I nearly had a seizure. She wore a white maxi dress with a flower headband – she was like a London nightclub-sent angel, with the most amazing boobs. For that reason, we shall call her Boho Girl.
I was desperate to impress her, but having no money all I could do was try to swindle her some free drinks – a tactic used by all club promoters, I must add. After arriving at her table with a tray of cocktails I had got for free in exchange for setting the barman up with Antalya, I went straight in and invited her round to mine for dinner the following evening.
I barely had enough money to eat let alone get any decent food, and the wine was the cheapest shit that cost £5 for two bottles and was probably not even made from real grapes – but the evening went surprisingly well and she even stayed the night. God knows why considering a) the state of the wine and the slightly burnt frozen salmon; b) the flat looked like we were squatters; c) my bedroom, which was so tiny that all that fitted into it was a single bed and a tiny cabinet, and it also stank of man and glowed like a Dutch brothel after Alex fitted red lights under the bed. It was the least sexy room you’ve ever seen in your life, which made the sex victory all the more amazing.
I was pretty convinced that mine and Boho Girl’s night of passion would end up being a one-night stand. I would have been disappointed, but I couldn’t really understand why she would want to go on another date with me having seen my hovel of a home and my bargain wine offerings. But, incredibly, she did, and we ended up dating for the next few months. She was the first Jewish girl I went out with and I’ve loved them ever since.
