Forget setting up your deck chair in a prime spot for celebrity watching on the Croisette. For my girlfriends and I the Cannes Film Festival is more about being a celebrity than seeing a celebrity, a chance to delegate school runs and errands and embrace a world of glamour and influence.

Our film festival experience got off to a fabulous first night at the FR2DAY launch party. As we stepped out of our car shielding our eyes from the flashlights of the waiting photographers we made our way as enigmatically as is possible in shoes not designed for walking , into the buzz of the only party to be at. Amongst the sea of beautiful people we enjoyed copious amounts of superb rose, and unique sparkling vodka which definitely had everybody feeling that they could be anybody they wanted to be.

Ok so the closest I got to a celebrity was talking to a guy from Dublin who is good mates with Danny from The Script but it didn't matter. We were in the centre of Cannes on the opening night of the film festival looking fabulous with an endless supply of free booze and delicious canapés.

Suitably recovered after a morning's yoga session (very Madge and Gwinnie,) we glammed up yet again, this time for lunch at the Eden Roc at the Hotel Cap d'Antibes. The place to be seen during film festival week. Strategically booked by my friend Ashley months in advance, we had a reservation at the hottest lunch venue on the coast.

Were we hoping to be seated next to Brad and Angelina? Of course we were, but our raison d'etre was to lunch like a celeb, to mingle seamlessly into their world. We weren't reading Hello magazine - we were living it.

I have always found celebrity spotting rather disappointing. Firstly I am hopeless at putting a face to a celebrity name, even when they are sitting next to me- I once asked a very surprised Diane von Furstenburg (above) to hold my shoes for me whilst climbing out of the Club 55 tender - and secondly when I do recognise them they are always far shorter and less charismatic than their movie alter egos. Luckily we had enlisted the help of Ashley's girlfriends from the UK who assured us that years of dedication to celebrity magazines enabled them to spot even a D lister a mile off.

Paris Hilton possibly settling her hotel bill.

We were under the deluded impression that celebrity living would be credit crunch friendly. Free drinks at parties and obviously when eating like a celebrity, a green salad is all that is required.

Oh boy were we in for a surprise when we scanned the Eden Roc menu. We had opted for the pool bar and grill which we had been told was cheaper than the main restaurant and more likely to be frequented by the celebs we were stalking. A quick glance confirmed that we were not going to get a main course for under €42 and the cheapest rose was a choking €70 - this was not going to be a boozy lunch!

All in all the lunch was a disappointment. The weather was grey and although the setting was stunning, the restaurant lacked atmosphere and was half empty. The food was delicious but did not warrant the accompanying price tag and the lack of people watching coupled with the price of the wine had us hurrying through our lunch in order to decamp to a more convivial environment.

Chatting to the concierge whilst waiting for our car confirmed the rumours that have been flying around that Cannes is quiet this year. He had not seen one celebrity check in or dine in the restaurant and the hotel was not at full capacity.

Not to be thwarted, we jumped into the car and headed straight for the Martinez. The foyer entrance was five deep with paparazzi and the public obviously hoping to glimpse a star checking in. Lulu kept to her promise and managed to spot Matt Smith AKA the new Doctor Who leaving the hotel. We managed to blag our way through the Gestapo style security and nab a table on the terrace in full view of the main foyer. Sipping on a 17 euro vodka tonic we made disjointed small talk whilst keeping our eyes firmly on the arriving limos and Mercs. Our hopes were raised on several occasions by commotion amongst the crowd and the paps, but no one that we recognised.

As the sun set we collectively agreed that our day of celebrity living was up and it was time to kick off our high heels and head home for a bottle of €4 rosé. Guess what - Penelope Cruz sauntered in five minutes after we left.