The glorious Julie Hesmondhalgh

I picked up the trousers I'm going to be wearing for the wedding this afternoon, and, at the same time, across town, Nathan, picked up my waistcoat, which was made by Sally Livingston, who did all the costumes for Much Ado About Nothing last summer. It is beautiful with glorious golden buttons chosen by a committee of Nathan's closest friends, which makes me feel very special indeed. I now have a full set of clothes to wear, although I've not yet tried anything on, except the waistcoat, of course. I obviously had to put that on as soon as it arrived!

I had a bit of hassle in "A Child Of The Jago" where the trousers came from. The chap working in the boutique on Thursday was deeply gracious and went out of his way to help me. He got me to try on all sorts of different pairs of trousers to make sure the ones that were made in my size actually fitted. We had a discussion on the day, that the factory making me a new pair would only charge me the same price as the pair I'd seen in the shop in the wrong size, and frankly, seeing as they are being worn on prime time telly, I though this was a fairly good deal from their perspective!

When I arrived in the shop today, the man who had served me wasn't there, and his boss, a rather surly creature, immediately informed me that, because the trousers were "made specially", I'd have to pay her more money for them. I took out my receipt and showed her that I'd already paid. "That was a deposit," she said, "but you're only asking for £40 more. Why would I have paid a deposit for 75% of the cost of the trousers?" "Some customers," she barked "like to pay most of the amount up front." "But it doesn't say that this is a deposit anywhere on the receipt." "In which case the difference will be coming out of the wages of the man who served you!"

How ghastly! I went a little ballistic and told her I'd never heard anything so cruel. What a terrible way to treat your staff who've been nothing but polite and eager to help. If it weren't for her employee, I wouldn't have bought the trousers at all, and frankly, how dreadfully short-sighted to treat a customer like that who's about to go on telly wearing your lovely trousers!

Now of course if someone asks me where I got them, instead of saying "a lovely shop with helpful staff called A Child Of The Jago" I'll be more likely to say, "A Child of the Jago," but try to avoid the nasty woman with bleach blonde hair. She's a proper piece of work!

I should say, however, that they have some lovely pieces of clothing in the shop, so don't boycott them!

This morning we did an interview at our house for Channel 4 news. At least I think it was for Channel 4 news. It was all a little emotional for me. I don't know why. Probably because I can finally see the end in sight. I started talking about growing up gay, and the whole terror we felt about HIV/AIDS and the tears started to flow. It was a little embarrassing, of course, but I guess it might have made good telly! The most important thing for us both is that this piece is viewed as political and moving as well as silly and fun.

We went on to the edit suite later and recorded Julie Hesmondhalgh singing her solo line. How blinking lucky do I feel to have that epically wonderful woman in our film? She is exquisitely charming, desperately polite, witty and amusing and has a beautiful, beautiful soul.

From the sound suite we went to a row of edit suites, each of them with another part of the film inside. We walked along the line of doors, being shown into each to see another part of our film, and OMG they look brilliant! It's so exciting. My little duet with Philippa, Llio glowing, Julie coquettishly looking at camera, Ian and Jem drinking champagne and looking gloriously handsome, Ted and his enormous sausage! We almost floated away from the studio.

And that's about it for the day. Time to watch a bit of telly before bed. Nighty night!