Thursday, 8 October 2015

Tuesday, 6 October 2015

Two things I feel enthusiastic about this week are Putin and the collection by Sarah Burton for Alexander Mcqueen. Putin because amongst our lily livered politicians he has showed courage to sort the mess out that was made by someone else, without too much fuss, and of course doing so he has left himself open to criticism, but not by me. He was authoritarian, gallant, elegant and articulate.
When all the world attention was on the behaviour of the Pope and how wonderful he was, Putin quietly spoke. I could easily become his mind control slave. Hopefully he can improve the situation in the future for the poor Syrians so that there is no need for them to escape their previous lives forever. Merkel should not win the Nobel Prize, but actually Putin should be considered. Of course he is protecting his Naval base and a pipeline.
Back to Paris to the lightness of fashion, despite the world falling apart it seems in full swing this fashion week.
I totally loved the fashion show of Alexander Mcqueen. Sarah Burton, is not Lee Mcqueen, she shows us hidden treasure in Granny's trunk, to live with what we have, rather than find something totally new. She feels  like she would like to find  solace in Grimm's Fairy Tales and nostalgia, to a magical land where the war and refugees are forgotten for a second, leather jackets were worn with long narrow chiffon and distressed skirts. The hair was worn up in a  Pre Raphaelite style, and for twenty minutes we were taken into a other world where life was full of pretty thoughts and dreams. Mostly in cream the materials were structured yet distressed. The only vibrant colour was shown in some dashing red jackets worn over black long dresses.

Oh so sweet and oh so young, girls boys, Karl teaches us to travel.  Fabrics felt young as the brilliant Karl Largerfeld has no trouble pushing boundaries with fabric. Pure wool, with brightly coloured chiffon. The models walked to the music sounded as if it was from a Japanese department store. Egalitarian to a fault yet so exclusive, Karl looks after all editors giving them all great seats. I loved the make up and hair  still managing to keep this house cutting edge.If only our Airports looked as good, the Grand Palais is a standard hard to beat. Rush rush rush.

Tutti Frutti elegance. Up to the mark respect to Mr Lagerfeld. I always dress up for the airport just incase somebody has to rip my knickers away.
Keep light and happy, during this period when everything appears to fall apart. After all we all want to be here together forever in this plastic and light world.  We were shown this week three unmasked musketeers who tried to make things work, Putin, Lagerfeld and The Pope.

On another note for thanksgiving it's a time to reflect.
Labels are limiting and thought patterns too that are not yours but somebody else's. This month I was called "beautiful, tacky, tasteful, brilliant, talented, a demon, articulate, petulant, calm, reckless, amusing, witty, well dressed, common, classy a granny, a sex pot, thick, intelligent, patronised and encouraged, right wing, left wing.  Earlier this year one girl from Los Angeles said she wanted to put her stiletto heal through my head when I told her she might be late for her red carpet entrance at the Oscars.  Nothing shocks me anymore as other people's opinion is just that, not reliable good or bad.  The problem is when somebody's ego is huge and their self confidence is fragile. I am at an age, 55, when I do not need to look as if I am expecting an erection when I see a man.  I welcome the work of  @Boohoo2Bullying. To sue would be as déclassé and  tacky as the people spilling the beans. Of course by now I realise that when people speak it is a reflection of themselves.  Human politics like war and opinion, is similar and very destructive, petty as it is variable. At this time of year it is a good idea to think about how to improve yourself and how to help others.Everybody could be kinder. The most important qualities in a person for me are loyalty and humour. Mostly a person hides behind the very thing that they say they would never do. Despite the glamour, the work on themselves, the talent, when they open their mouths, just ugly comes out.
I do not need anything thank goodness as I get older, the more unencumbered  I am, the better. I like to be free. When people are argumentative, I am happy to deal with my loneliness and move away. I do not need constant approval and do not feel insecure or criticise. I just need to enjoy the pleasure cruise with my close family and real friends.
There are  still  eight languages to learn, Pop Art, Bach, long walks, Architecture, writing and philosophy, to enjoy. Also something to consider "If you cannot be on your own you will not fully understand how to love or like anything" There are fashion shows to see.
Luckily, after this I am on a journey now to visit a Palazzo in Venice of great beauty where the views are as good as the Canaletto's it houses.


1. Eric Buterbaugh's candles and scent, anything and every delightful smell will do.

2.  Any Loree Rodkin ring would be incredibly generous, I also love her collection for
Rick Owens.

3.  A chair from Mark Brazier Jones to add to my collection.

4.  A make up set from Charlotte Tilbury with a video on how to create illusions.

5.  Tobi Tobin chocolate would be delicious.

6.  A small Chanel bag/Wallet so chic.

7.  A hat by Victoria Grant

8.  A round the world airline ticket

9.  A ticket to Tony Robbin's  seminars to help create life's great moments.

10.Ten books from Book soup for my coffee table.

Monday, 5 October 2015

Wednesday, 30 September 2015

Tuesday, 22 September 2015

I have spent four days in a bubble at London Fashion Week 2016 Spring/Summer.  It has been a case of dashing round and trying to fit everything in. As Fashion Editor for Genlux Magazine  in Los Angeles. There have been so many celebrations this week and not just with the British designers. PRADA has had a refit and looks incredible with new modern lines in pale pink, green and brown. I loved the collection and I loved the look. Then DVF has a whole new look to it. Never having tried on their clothes I slipped on a jumpsuit in black with blue spots and would not take it off. It felt like pyjamas.  Then off to the shows.

Kathy Lette's fabulous shapely legs.

At Jasper Conran's show I was sitting with the witty writer Kathy Lette who said that we should watch out for the new bigger models. However all I noticed was her sexy shredded stockinged legs, which on a normal mortal looked like a ladder, on her the stairway to heaven.

Fashion is a successful growing business in Great Britain, with a 27 billion pound turn over last year and 67 percent of fashion is now being bought on line.
Women wearing normal clothes are aged 15-death,  from a size 8 - 16 UK, averaging between 115 - 160 pounds and were 5'5" tall, whereas the under aged girl models on the catwalk  wear size O, weighing between 110-130 pounds and were 5'10" - 6'1"aged 15. What suits them, would not suit us. My weight has stayed the same throughout my life and I am roughly the same weight as I was at 16, but most people would not have that will power, and boy do I fit in trips to the Mayr Clinic as you all know who read this column. Despite doctors warnings not to go over a size 14, women seem to be getting larger and larger. They warn that larger women suffer from more cancer, more high blood pressure, breathing problems etc, few listen, yet most love clothes.  For now lets forget all this and go back to the business in hand and some gorgeous ideas for the clothes you may wear in the future.

London's Fashion week is well organised with serious talent, commercial, eccentric,
diverse and colourful. Truly British.

Duggie Fields, Zandra Rhodes and Amanda Eliasch
An Event to present a "Duggie Fields's" film to celebrate the life of designer Zandra Rhodes. Brightly coloured with creative cartoons and music, this lit up the carpark in Brewer Street.

Also showing were films about Zoe Jordan's and Mary Benson's collection and stories.
Sponsored by River Island.

DILARA FINDKOGLU new designer.

I love the new designers, this time the young Turkish girl  Dilara Findkoglu,  who designed wearable goth/romantic erotic rock chick clothes. I wanted everything. The jacket faced with red silk under a beautifully fitted black jacket with badges on it. another with a corset with two red roses placed on the girls bosoms, another girl in a white suit beautifully cut with a sequin patterns on it. A table set for dinner in St Giles Church, beautiful cakes and sumptuous flowers in reds decorated the elaborate feast.  Girls drank from red fluted ornamental cranberry flute glasses while men paid attention to their lips.  A gothic group played their guitars in the back ground. The place was alive with music from Gregorian chants to a metal band dressed in her clothes.  Striking make up they stole the show. Dilara is quietly a true winner. Perhaps it is her  back ground from Los Angeles, Turkey and London, she looks exotic, up to date and multi cultural?


I was over the moon when I saw Gareth Pugh's latest show, inspired from the world of art, took us to another level of design. Red and White stripes, crazy Kabucki make up with masks, golliwog hair in red and black. The models looked like giant puppets in "show girl" clothes.  The Show


I loved the easy style of this collection by Roksanda with trousers well cut and narrow in matching and non matching fabrics under long dresses. Some had splits and some did not. In an array of crazy colours from reds, pinks, blacks and yellow the simple shapes fitted like a jig saw. Anybody could wear a simplified version and I wanted the piece here. The Show

Amanda Eliasch, Robert Marinelli, Duggie Fields.


I did not speak to this very charming designer who I was fortunate enough to meet several times.
David's designing has only become more and more wearable. This time showing well cut "A" line mini dresses with slits and with another layer of see organza under it. The soft colours were made all the more attractive by the petticoats. His classic lines with a twist made sure he emphasised the best parts of a woman.
The Show


Established and wearable clothes that most people will be happy in and actually buy. Of course I prefer his paired down but quirky designs that Jasper used to make, but perhaps I am the only one who would still wear them. Jasper knows very well what people wish to buy and wear. I loved his designs from a  time when everything was sharp,  black and fitted. Most people will like his ecology inspired Kaftans delicately flowing on a hot Summer's night with large leaf patterns, shimmering with tiny sequins. I loved this collection because it was fresh and Summery, my friends would be happy and comfortable wearing them, they would look stunning too. I of course would want to wear his hot pants in black. The Show

All the sherbet colours, yellows, pale greens, violets in knits and see through plastic skirts. Young girls will look cute as can be in knitted suits, long dresses made of wool. A dash of red patent leather, pompoms on the plastic see through handbags. It  made me feel young and full of life. Tiny ankle socks finished the look. I loved the capes and bags. The Show

I loved the plastic cape by Sibling.

An evening highlight was a party at Claridges for the Charity

for @TalentedWomen around the world, to help and nurture their talents in undeveloped countries.

Wearing Alexander Mcqueen and Valentino
for Moments of Light sponsored by De Beers

We were given a delicious vegetarian dinner especially chosen for us,  in Claridges Ballroom on long tables covered with white flowers. Entertained with a performance by singer Diana Krall. Architect Zaha Hadid was congratulated along with other clever women in the world, photographed by Mary McCartney. Tiny beautiful diamonds were everywhere.

I walked home with Duggie Fields and interior designer Robert Marinelli.  On the way we had tea at Soho House in Covent Garden and then dinner at The Ivy, Chelsea. which is fast becoming the hub of social activity.

Monday, 21 September 2015

When everybody else enjoys a bacon sandwich, even Milliband, goodness me can't our Prime Minister enjoy gammon, pork sausages, giblets and short ribs, also?  Couldn't he taste some little pork scratchings, or a pork chop with a kidney on the side?  Obviously trotters don't do it for him?
The gossip in the new unauthorised biography "Call me Dave"  just teaches every young person that they should be aware that what they do when they are 18, comes out later to haunt them, especially if you are famous and successful. Is it true and does it matter? The Telegraph is suggesting that the sources are questionable.

 I just think it makes our Dave  look a trifle more interesting. Sadly the unfortunate bitter writings of a person who could have been more intelligent, after all it makes Dave the Etonian a bit of a geezer?  Perhaps this is why Lord Ashcroft was not offered the positions he thought he deserved, and now surely  he will never have them?  As for "Dave" he will have to laugh this one off as the jokes will continue until we are bored.

Wasn't a suckling pig good enough for Dave?  I suppose he did it in the days before we knew about swine flu? You know what he has done, he has taken a silk purse and made into a pigs ear.
When he decided to initiate the pig had it been in the oven yet?  Did he take the apple out of his mouth?
Anyway enough of this I am off to Marks and Spencer for a bag of  Percy Pigs.

Sunday, 20 September 2015

Life is an abyss of political correctness, open your mouth and you fall in.  Men have no idea how to compliment you. Yesterday I am sitting in Uber when the driver tells me I am  incredibly attractive. That he wants to seduce me, and that it's his lucky day. Then looks at me through a misty mirror and says I look incredibly good for 51. He might as well have said I was 80. Just so you all know boys, 51 is somewhere between 50 and death. If you are going to tell lies at least make them attractive.

I immediately dialled my plastic surgeon for latest updates as clearly I need them. Lose skin is out, and I don't give a damn about ageing surgery. As there was no skin showing all being hidden I wondered what was ageing. I think I should show no skin and join ISIS but their idea of a neck lift is a bit radical.

Monday, 7 September 2015

As I say good night and goodbye to The Venice Film Festival, I have to say that I loved it, yet I am a little surprised  at the lack of imagination still going on in the casting rooms?.  I was going a little mad when I saw Spotlight one night based in Boston about the Catholic Church and Black Mass the next night, again based in Boston this time about gang leaders and politicians, with yet more killings I felt it was one gun shot too many. It was however good for the 50 plus stars and shows it takes some years to have such a huge fan base.

The once devastatingly handsome Johnny Depp  at 52 turned up bloated and middle aged and as I stared into the mirror I realise time creeps up on us all.  Despite work outs, trips to the dentist and regular exercise, botox and a facelift, time takes its toll, on everyone, even in Hollywood.
Perhaps Tilda Swinton is the only 55 year actress who looks good enough to play in the film, The biggest splash, I thought I saw it three years ago, or is it just that the Director, Luca Guadagnino is the same? I felt despite the film being reasonably good I was in a merry go round to nowhere.   The same clothes, the same writing, the same obvious casting, but hells bells why did Ralph have to play a fool when he is so magnificent serious. In amongst the "sameness" excellence appears like lightening from heaven in the shape of Eddie Redmayne in his sensitive portrayal of Lily in The Danish Girl. I totally understood that the feeling of lace against the skin could set off the turmoil in his life. Excellent casting, good directing from Mr Hooper and an incredible part yet again by this genius actor. I was so moved to tears by the story line, by Desplat's music, Danny Cohen's  rich cinematography, which was so stunning I want to move to Denmark and embark on an entirely new life. The story was  fragile, so close to my truths that I fell asleep in a deep depression, crying at the thought of people in my life maybe having to live stories such as this one. To not be happy in the nude must be one of the worst things imaginable? To not be the gender you wish to be, a living nightmare. On every level I was reminded of the pain and pleasure I have encountered.
The cinema is a closed club where the public is allowed a tiny look at the actors in cages, a money making venture, with little room to make mistakes. The Producers play it safe. There is supposed safety in casting the 53 year old Ralph Fiennes, safety in Tilda Swinton, safety in Johnny Depp and definite ultimate safety in Eddie Redmayne. Lucky Venice is the visual and generous host it is. I feel I am living in perpetual state of deja vu. It is why I love new and exciting theatre and film much more. It is why I made my own, The gun the cake and the butterfly and it is why I like new production companies such as Dark Theatre, which on no budgets but bottles of imagination have seconds that make bigger theatre/film companies look mundane, mainstream and ordinary. They do not need endless scripts, Universal, huge entourages, but just need two words energy and passion.
As for the drama and sadness on our doorstep.
The crisis in the Middle East should have been halted by the simple act of irrigation and modernisation, famine was used to step up hostilities. Actually the healthy young men at Calais right now could be irrigating their land increasing its fertility as I write. The Syrian's have been living in a draught for about 5 years.  In June, July and August, the tempers rise. notice last year it was Israel and Palestine at war?

 Cameron was elected four months ago to put a halt on immigration, and now is made to look incorrect by Germany, who in the last war murdered 5 million Jews whose population needs labour, whereas ours does not. Some intelligence should be considered, Sharia Law and a drunken Saturday night for British girls do not go together? Homosexuality is not allowed and Lily would definitely be strung up and all those that made The Danish Girl. We live and celebrate freedom.  Girls could all  be wearing a burka and stoned to death in the future? I beg all leaders of Great Britain to consider as Enoch Powell did, the effects of allowing people in who have opposite values to ours and who we are at war with into our country. This is not to say we should not help the children but consider that both men and women from Muslim countries believe us to be Kafirs, and we do not agree on women's rights.  When they are here they do not acclimatize.  In Germany perhaps the Muslims should uncover their arms if they want to be accepted in our culture? It will not effect me personally but I can see a potential blood bath. How do we know we have not been fighting them?  The press should be shamed into reporting things correctly and whilst all children are  innocent their parents may or may not be. In the case of the man who had no teeth, it is a tragedy,  he was living in the safety of Turkey whose refugees are given money by Sweden,  and decided to leave the country in a Rubber boat, giving no thought to the consequences that his wife  could not swim and no rubber rings for his children  either. We should have taken every single Yazidi family but we did not. The Christians of the Middle East where are they?. Let's all have compassion and common sense mixed together for a second. We would all love a world where religion did not matter, where traditions and customs intermingled, but people don't change and their are certain countries that are living in the Middle Ages, where capital punishment is the norm.
We are on a runaway train to nowhere with no destination and nobody being able to stop it? England as I knew has gone, farewell. Peter Hitchens says it so well.
The England, I remember and knew exists only in Disney and museums.
We need to help the people here in my opinion. The homeless who cannot help themselves giving them opportunities before people from faraway places. There appears to be no money or kudos for that? Come on?
We Europeans should forgive The Greek debt if they take the refugees?

Friday, 28 August 2015

Women went the wrong way about getting equality. They thought sleeping around was equality and removing the ladies waiting room at the railway station. The permissive society did not think. In 1968 England was a very different place with few members of the United Nations living here, it is no wonder that the English cannot understand what has happened to their country.
Dressing up as a man has removed the elegance that once women had.  Woman have never ever been so powerful as they are now, however as we became emancipated the men have become confused.  A new sex came onto the scene that had nothing to do with the men of yesterday.  All women's values have flown out the window, the way to hold cutlery, the proper glass for champagne, what is the problem with gender specific items?
I do not want my husband carrying a man bag or for me to wear lesbian walking shoes.

I am not gently cushioned from the reality of what England is,  a jewel heritage nation, I am totally aware. It has become a simmering cosmopolitan androgynous bowl of  political meat free soup. Is this good? Is this the vision everybody had hoped for? Are they living off our welfare or are they working day and night to create a better European city?
This is Great Britain. Every street after a Cheyne Walk and Chester Square is benefit street it seems?. It will be Dior on the Dole and Balenciaga on Benefits? Fed on a diet of Kim Kardashian and grey market handbags we look like we are entering the final stages of what London used to be. Poor old London all the English knew what part they belonged in. The East End man was happy and proud and I was told I was a Chelsea girl.  People liked to know who and where they belonged. The class system worked, and everybody knew their place and took pride in displaying it. Proper Londoners.
This all came flooding back to me when I saw Peter Medak's  brilliant and disturbing 1990's film at the BFI on the Kray's,  performed by  Gary and Martin Kemp who both gave a realistic portrayal. With a new version out shortly the past is stirred up and these murderous bastards are remembered once again as kings of their underworld. Tom Hardy plays both brothers and we shall see the result shortly. What is this fascination with mafia?

Sadly too many people I think watched the film Poor Cow in the 1960's,Up the Junction and A woman in a Dressing Gown, and thought it was an instruction manual. Don't think anything is equal it is not, and although it is hidden people still think the same way. Sixty years ago,with five years of ration books and nightly bombing raids even the Queen Mother had a black line round the bath so she did not go over the water level. There was glamour,  but England does not like a success story they like "Oliver" and foreign imports like "Les Miserables" They like stories of struggle and depression and most of all survival like Scarlett o'hara announcing with a few straggly looking raw turnips that "She will never go hungry again".  This is why we help immigrants, but we would admire them more if they fought  for their troubles in their own countries and then came here. Here is not what they think in any case. It is no longer "freebies" for everybody, just freebies for the foreigners working the system, but not for long. We are humanitarian but not foolish. Babies on the beaches is a no no, but lets cut the crap the immigrants will be placed in cities like Doncaster on an unliveable wage, most British would turn down. Is it a conspiracy or just appalling organisation.

What I need is to go out with the right villain to get the centre table in some clip joint in my off the shoulder dress in a full suite of matching jewellery to cheer myself up.  Tonight, I would like to wear emeralds and a dress by Dior carefully hand sewn in taffeta with heavily beaded ends on a stole. My hair coiffed to perfection by Raymond. Ah that was the beautiful time just before rock and roll and the 1965 fight for free love and peace.

Thursday, 20 August 2015

For a month I have lived diets and I feel I am going to go mad if I hear the word DIET again. I now truly understand that they do not work and that really you have to change the way you perceive food for the rest of your life. I also realised I had a bad relationship with food. I got a call from one of my best girlfriends a month ago saying she was desperate. She had put on so much weight that she did not know where to start. I told her to come and spend the Summer with me. She had told me when I was fourteen, spotty and feeling ugly, that I would be pretty when I was fifty and that was enough for me to embark on helping her. The three weeks have passed by in a flash.
Step 1, I had fun buying clothes for size 22, I went to Marks and Spencers to buy a swimsuit and a coat, New Look for trendy tops and easy bottoms, I went to Boo Hoo dot com and loved the array of wonderful pieces that were beautifully cut for the larger female. I was happy and my friend was happy. and that was step one. She spent the whole night trying them on, and I thought if nothing else this has boosted her morale.
Step two I realised that overeating, like alcoholism, is an horrendous illness.,when a person does this to themselves they are not well. Fourteen pounds with a life time of stories is understandable but I found it hard to relate and understand my beautiful friend doing this to herself. I had to work on myself too, have patience when I was bored talking about it, and help and cherish my friend during the process. She had to accept my help which could be overbearing if you are not in the right mood.

Step three I took her to the Mayr Clinic in Austria which was a huge success. In her new kit she swung into the action of swimming everyday and walking in the hills of Althausee. She realised the importance of allergies and what nourished her body. It is a good idea to have a test for this at the beginning of the stay so that the doctors can help you adjust correctly to their diet which includes chewing your food to help digestion. Starvation can be good for you and releases the youth hormone.
I got as excited over her weight loss, and she started to look happier. She also was taking many pills, e.g. HRT, Prozac and other pills given to her by the medical profession which did not help her state of mind.  She was brave and took positive actions to work out what was necessary and what was not.

Step Four  I took her to the diet doctor, Century City Weight Loss in Los Angeles, who was eager for her success saying that in a short while she would be back to Normal. I  found that now she had lost 13 pounds in just 21days from really eating healthily and at the right hours, 8am, 13pm and 18pm.
Of course I was by now exhausted and had to finish a house in Palm Springs.

Step Five I am sending fun messages for my friend to follow through with, e.g. what she would like to wear in five months time, the men she would like to kiss, thesports she would like to do, and the interests she would like to take up, let's hope it all works out.

Saturday, 8 August 2015

Friday, 7 August 2015

In the new Mayr Clinic at Althausee which has many bonuses, not only the dishy doctors, the views, the lake, the peace and solitude, I am here with one of my oldest friends. Losing weight is so pleasurable that I could never leave. It reminds me of Thomas Mann's book Magic Mountain, where people arrive year after year, to get better but are actually addicted to being watched medically and mentally.
As the deal on my house falls through I remain calm. Alan Russell from Russell Simpson was intelligent and helpful as always. Despite the buyer having four surveys, one which was an X-ray proving there was little wrong, he took up all our time this Summer. Property in Chelsea is cheaper that the rest of London which is surprising because it is the best place I have ever lived in London. People proclaim Mayfair to be good, I prefer the character of the houses there.  Thank goodness I am here amongst the pine and nothing hassles me. The man buying it thinks I am a fool, that I can be bullied.  I have news for him. I won't give in. As the agents ring and nag me, some persuading me to take less, I am reminded by financial experts I have only lost money if I sell. I love my beautiful house in Chelsea overlooking the river. It has wonderful neighbours and a sense of peace.


Last night I went to see the award winning Cecilia Bartoli in a wringing wet performance of Norma which is part of the Salzburg Festival this year. I read in the brochure before the performance, saying that it was difficult to make a balance between Romanticism and Classicism and that this performance was based in France whilst it was under  Nazis occupation, because Bellini had written it the year he was under occupation from Hungary. I have a problem with this because the story did not fit. I love this opera and it is one of my favourites. I just like the Aristocratic authentic version of Maria Callas's more. She was Noble, a Queen amongst her subjects. Cecilia's was touchingly ordinary, tearful and simply the woeful moanings of what looked like a washer woman, in this famous Austrian Theatre. Yet Cecilia had brilliance. She had passion, she did look downtrodden and believable as her husband takes another woman. Of course Maria Callas was darker and grander, with elegance she stands above the rest of the world, but boy Cecilia gave it her all. I personally did not like the set, as I like Grand Opera, and opera set in the places it was originally written for. However, I was moved by the realness and at moments cried along with Norma, as she wept like an hysterical woman for the loss of her husband and the distress of the betrayal of one of her subjects. I do not like the look of opera done on a budget, this had no visual appeal. However , this could be stupid of me as the performances all round, especially by Rebeca Alvera, were excellent.
If you can forget Maria Callas for one night, try to get a ticket for this. Beg for one, do anything for one, because there are moments which are totally exceptional and stunningly beautiful as long as you have no memory.
For me there is only one singer that could do this part given the chance and that is Sofia Dimitrova. However politics and lack of opportunity inhibit chances given to newer singers. If only I was married to a man who enjoyed  philanthropy, his millions would fly out the window on productions and new ideas.


Now on a World Wide trip I shall have to forget the tranquility of the Althausee, the place that Hitler once hid the stolen art collections of the Jews. I shall now enter other worlds.

Sunday, 2 August 2015

What rights do immigrants have that want to come to England, travelling like rats through the Tunnel?. Costing millions as they fight through fences, jumping on lorries. I hate to tell them that we have very little to give, yet they are receiving supposedly thirty five pounds a day. After all we live in huge ponzi scheme ourselves, so before the government think about helping these people they should look after our own first. Then of course you can enter the UK legally through the EU and receive a bonus for doing so?

Of course the government will do what is the right thing and feed their children, give them benefits social housing when really the immigrants should go back home and fight for the re building of their own countries.  These people are costing us millions and these people are not warriors, not responsible and proving to be moral cowards. Why not work hard to defend their country and stop trying to enter ours?  We have nothing to offer. We have a depleted National purse that can barely afford to look after its own. Why do these people expect shelter?. We have to build several new schools immediately to educate our own children. If we put all these people into England, in say Trafalgar Square, soon the 500 a day will fill up and there will be no places.  This is the nightmare. Why do they feel England is the place for them? The English, despite the lectures on political correctness, don't condone free loaders and people who run away from terror. If these people wish to live in a better country why not return to their Mother country and re build it? Our government really should think about the poor in our own country.  What do these people think they are going to eat in England?  Do they think they are arriving in America, stepping through their 50 inch television screens and living the dream with Jennifer Anniston and having tea with the Queen?

At the moment I have news for them, the elderly get six  thousand pounds a year as their pension and am sure as brave warriors from the World War 11, who fought for the Health service they will not appreciate the endless people from countries like Tunisia.  Perhaps there could be something more sinister and people will have to accept less pay as the immigrants seize the jobs of the people living in the UK forcing The British to accept less pay?

The Guardian reports that immigrants will be sent back without the right papers.

Friday, 24 July 2015

Wednesday, 22 July 2015

Rejuvenation of your pussy? Let me explain there is a new procedure done by my good old friend Dr Sister and I am sure my even better friend Dr Sebagh is busy with it too. It works the same way  the Vampire facelift  works. You take out some blood, spin it in a special machine and re inject it.
Imagine the scenario, I am lying in bed covered with lycra with easy access holes, incase I get lucky hopefully with the love of my life, when he suddenly grabs me, and I think "ypee tonights the night". I have to rush to the bathroom and grab a syringe to prick into my shrivelled membranes in order to make them a little more juicy?  It is like the pink embalming fluid that goes into dead bodies to make them look like they are not dead but just resting. I like the old fashioned approach  to lovemaking and that includes the kiss of life, and you will see open sesame.
 Come on Dr Sister I know you quite well, do I book a group for ten sessions, will it hurt, how long does it last, whats the down time, do you have to do it when I am going to get lucky later on?. What happens if you are stood up? I remember going out with a certain doctor and seeing a certain prostitute having her outer membranes pumped up.
I can imagine as I run to the bathroom, putting on some rubber gloves to grab a needle, put some numbing cream on, wondering if I will be able to feel anything and will I feel anything else too? And the man rushing to his bathroom and doing the same, while swallowing a viagra and tying a bootlace around his swollen outer member? Once this did happen. I can imagine a rather vulgar friend of mine who with a gin and tonic in one hand and a fag in another saying "A bit more on the left please, put plenty in, its going to be a heavy week end"
 Come on its coarse and rather sad?
It's not very flattering for a man to know that you go to a doctor to feel moist enough to meet him, and if he realises that he has nothing to do with your soft wet centre, he could be more than a little disappointed?..
It is not an illness, it can be easily resolved with the oil by Cowshed called Horny Cow.
Get a grip read a book...
The world is going noisily mad and I don't give a damn. There are enough people who care and nobody is going to worry about me dropping off the radar. Tomorrow I might care and okay I might grab a syringe?

Sometimes it is good to worry about turning the lights off.
Why do we have to give ourselves a heart attack every day about what is going on in the world? Sometimes it is just good to worry about writing  "2 bottles of milk today" hoping they won't get stolen.
Whilst editing this article five minutes ago at ten in the morning, I  re read it and now think, this is a splendid idea, and am busy dialling Dr Sister's number, which sadly is permanently engaged. You see in a matter of minutes my enthusiasm returns,  I love a new adventure and as yet, I have not had my blood spun. That is only the start of rejuvenating myself.
Human beings have always been attached to cruelty whether in human relationships or with nature.
They can be sweet loving but boy they can easily turn. There is nothing that can shock us anymore we are thoroughly manipulated by terror and politics. Iraq is no longer Iraq and I can only hope that Iran stays calm as it's borders are bullied.
The human race can be cold, controlling and disingenuous, equally they can be the opposite. Loving adoring and enthusiastic. How can the different factions of Muslims fight each other? They are because we did, Catholics against the Protestants.
There can be nothing  worse than cruelty to an animal that can't talk, that can't fight back? I have become almost completely vegetarian and see only animals walking across my plate. Green is best and after my week at Anthony Robbins I feel I am completely brain washed to do good things. This is a miracle. 

I have so many dreams of making life more positive for others. Helping the Elephant, helping the Rhino. Helping the old and young artists in this country.  I wish to open an agency for the young and enthusiastic "creatives". I need a vibrant, attractive person who likes this industry to get these adults working and at the same time helping themselves.. Anybody out there should contact me. An enthusiastic support group for young and older artists around the world. A refreshing CAA. We would share profits and you could work in your own time when you wanted. I think this should be the case anyway. People work better when they have natural freedom. I want to help all nationalities in this country in the arts to make it a better world through opera, music, photography, painting and theatre. This is the only way people will listen hopefully and become "Life Enhancers"through their abilities.
Now back to the grindstone and moving..

Tuesday, 7 July 2015

I am at The Tony Robbins course in The Canary Islands, but instead of shimming up a pole, I would rather climb cupid's summit, despite the fact I might not win a yellow badge saying "I jumped it".  This morning I had their food police at my door to check whether the forbidden eggs and bacon were for me or my friend. I said they were for my friend, and they suggested I should be policed by my son, incidentally my son is a miracle born from god and definitely perfect in every way and better suited to the emotional gymnastics that the soya bean brigade offer.
My temple is my body, and my body is very often worshipped.
I promise you I nourish it regularly with green wheat grass  with frequent trips to the Mayr clinic I manage to keep the menopause at a distance and luckily it is at least five years away.
Let's talk about love, more interesting than anything else. Love is for me how to "make the other person feel about me without investing too much of myself". I tried it the other way round and it did not work. I remember when I was a little girl my Aunt said to me all the time "Remember fall in love where money is, never marry for it" I don't worship money but at the same time I am unlikely to slum it.
Does love exist or is it a neurotic obsession with someone else? The obsession part is what keeps you in love, and neurosis is a fabulous drug which most people are addicted to and lose their supplier.  Because of it, they keep searching for the agony.  They get a little hit there and a little hit here, and a few weird trips they wish they had not gone on.  People interested should read a book called "Who moved my cheese"

Fifty shades of grey has one problem that it was not as sophisticated as some fledgling prostitutes.
The only real love affairs for women are the ones that you feel you will lose at any given moment. My ex boyfriend used to say that I needed to be kept in the earthquake zone in order to behave. This was fine until I met a man on a train who became more attractive because he was unavailable. He belonged to someone else. Thats not say I did not try him on a few times, and I did not feel guilty because we pretended his wife did not exist. I did not feel guilty as it was not my wife and it was his job to make his marriage work and not mine. I can't help it if I am so damned attractive.
I wish they were teaching me here about how to NLP a man to think it was his idea to chase me, however Tony Robbins Life Mastery class is obsessed with cleaning out my colon which is not conducive to nights of pleasure, instead its cucumber juices at one end and incase it doesn't come out the other end, yards of two way rubber tubing with  gloves, of course,  are applied. Gas mask optional. If I wanted a colonic I go to The Mayr Clinic or the Margie Finchell clinic.

I am dying for  the teachings of subnormality's, anchoring of excellence, swishing. I really don't need the first of 120 pages to tell me that I am a heap of rotting compost. By the time we go to a course like this in Europe we have done the rounds. I have said "om" for thirty years. I spent weeks standing on one leg on a hilltop with the likes of the excellent Godfrey Devereux. I am not educationally subnormal and need to cheer on an absent Tony Robbins. It feel more like the Tony Robbins appreciation society. I am though here for me, and not for him. I do not need to scream his name with  a Marie Osmond smile every five minutes.  I have read the book and got the T shirt. Sadly despite the money making operation, he is not here.  Instead I have to put up with the plump, white nailed women running the course, complaining about a thirty hour flight instead of massaging their spleens and rubbing their ears suggested in their book. I wanted to immediately enrol in the Platinum option as everything else looked ordinary. I was told if you join you might be lucky enough to meet Warren Buffett. Unfortunately for them and fortunately for me I remember him in Davos at The World Economic Forum, two years ago.  I enjoyed a very elaborate dinner with him.
I am confused as to which toxic chemicals are allowed as it seems you can wear acrylic nails with toluene but they suggest you avoid "right guard" and I don't go anywhere unless I have a touch of Mitchem. I wish they would teach me how to click my fingers and as if by magic "hey presto". I am going to learn how to hold the pole like a cigarette like the girl taught me from the Raymond Review Bar when I launched my book Cloak and Dagger Butterfly in their club.

Sunday, 5 July 2015

There is a lot I wish to say at the moment, but given the problems and our desire for "political correctness" in the world, it is tricky.  I look around the world and our leaders are diplomatic, there is nothing outrageous coming out of the mouths of David Cameron or Barack Hussein Obama, This is their entrance to the political arena, they know when to speak. Notice that however many votes Nigel Farage got, he did not get in. I put my hands up to being intimidated, I admit to having a bad tummy if I look carefully round the world and see heads rolls. I am intimated but not frighted of death or violence. I am waiting for others to be brave enough to say what should be said. I don't mind dying but I would rather die normally not from these murderous bastards in the Middle East.

In the last war all Germans were suspect and put into war camps. ISIS have done a disservice to their own. They have made every Muslim in England a suspect. The malady that we helped educate has turned. What a surprise. Of course Enoch Powell would be turning around in his grave. He had warned us. Tell me what lunacy of the police to let a man go who was wearing an ISIS flag outside the Houses of Parliament, when David Cameron said last year that anybody who did this could experience the wrath of our police force? Was the man just saved because of political correctness and a child on his shoulders?
Women have to stop vaginal mutilation. Women are the only people who can stop this. The only voice a woman has is the screaming heard as it is performed on her.
The burka and the niqab has to go.  In England it is socially unacceptable, offensive, medieval and badly educated to hide your face. It shows you need to hide something unpleasant. We have not worn a "wimple" since the 14th Century. Thank goodness for the artwork at the Venice Bienale questioning the use of the garb and the muslims migrating in their thousands to Europe..
By removing the burka they remove fear. This is outrageous and would have never happened if ISIS had not risen among us, but it did.  Uniformity used to be punishment, in prison you are given a number and a hat. Perhaps women in burkas are faceless drones? I am asking to remove the Hijab and the niqab.  I think men use this garb to skulk about hiding. The muslims in the population must understand the fear they have created. With this in mind they may start to put pressure on the extremists within our midst.
When I see these women, I see oppression and this ignorance creates fear and lack of understanding.
People may not say anything, they may just  raise their eyebrows, but they are all thinking the same thing, but are terrified to say anything. Some people don't even know because they don't read newspapers, watch the news, they may just watch the transformation of Caitlin Jenner, the Kardashian's or the equality of all sexes to be able to marry each other. It is funny that the three girls who left for Syria loved the Kardashians who are in fact Armenian Christians. For their education any surname ending with" ian" is Christian so perhaps they should get new role models? What happened to the women who left their husbands taking the children behind? Were the men left to collect our cash to pension book? Should these girls be allowed home?. In my mind they should have their passports revoked. As a British Citizen your passport does not belong to you, but is on loan from the British Government.
We are careful to pick our words so as to not offend. There are radicals are amongst us, that is certain, and they are not Syrian, not Iranian, but third generation born and bred Liverpudlians.
We do not allow Enoch Powell to be uttered yet we allow a group called Cage to have an audience. We live in a free society which is great, and it makes Britain valuable and interesting, but do not expect all of us to understand each other or agree, because we don't.
The standard of dress amongst us is  appalling if you walk down Oxford Street, t-shirt material is far too prevalent and nobody seems to know except when Ascot is on,  what to wear. T shirts were originally made for underwear. Perhaps we all need to cover up a bit?. There is nothing more revolting to look at than people who don't suit shorts, wearing them. Even the burka is not made of T Shirt material.
The burka is a problem for me personally, because I can't tell whether it's this season, next season or so last year. You can't see if its "designer" or not. Does it come wrapped in tissue or just a plastic bag.? Does it come with matching underwear, socks and gloves? Are women under it just too damn pretty too looked at, or are they just too damn ugly? I am told by my Middle Easter friends that apparently they are are wearing red high heels and silk underwear, under them?  I think I shall infiltrate and see how they like it? I shall join them with two transvestites I know and two girls who lunch, and giggle at them under the black terrifying garb? No, actually I have more respect.
I suppose you can tell a grand one when you see the Balenciega bag.
If we all put a sheet over our head with a pointy bit,  would we be able to tell who was who, or would the Muslims think we were a member of the Klu Klux Klan?.
Hi Mary, is that you under there? At least with Telly Tubbies you could tell who was who and they came in all colours shapes and sizes, very egalitarian.

Wednesday, 1 July 2015

Something shocked me yesterday when I heard about the talented composer James Horner dying in an aeroplane crash. The clever man wrote Titanic. The film that is based on a lie but never mind. His oscar winning music is known to all of us around the world.
There are some stories that are always intriguing. The Titanic I believe was not the ship that sunk but was infact that sister ship the Olympian. The boat that was about to be scrapped with no insurance but instead was renamed in secret and replaced the Titanic. All the people concerned kept the secret and at the time the ports had hundreds of employees that could keep a secret. They were blackmailed and told to never tell anybody. They could lose their jobs with a little indiscretion and there was no welfare state back then. What happened to the real Titanic, I will have to check.

My son Jack's dog Ulysses also died last week, a beautiful black greyhound, it feels like the end of the era. I went with my sons, Charles and Jack to find them outside Paris. The breeder Bleu Manoir bred championship show greyhounds. When we arrived there were about thirty puppies running around and in amongst them two beautiful black puppies, Ulysses and Unicorn  stood out. The boys and I fell in love immediately and took them back on my ex's jet to the South of France. Their the puppies ruled for a few years. Our time is always borrowed. We own nothing, we are just custodians. So I had three of four years of greyhounds jumping into bed with me.  Unicorn died six years ago from a twisted gut and Ulysses was incredibly sad. He used to cry round the house. So we bought him a play friend called Madame M, black and sleek. She now lives their with a labrador so is perfectly happy.
Good or bad, nothing lives forever so just enjoy precious moments.

I wish people did not feel they own things, we just borrow and look after them for the time we have. We are the custodians of beautiful things for a time, we have to hand over to others for their future enjoyment.
I have been so busy this Summer with the Chelsea Flower Show, Royal Ascot, travelling, friends staying, the opera, trying to move, not succeeding, that time just rushes by.  I went to see Traviata which was wonderful and Marina Rebeka had a standing ovation at the Royal Opera House singing the part of Violetta. I enjoyed The Audience with Kristen Scott Thomas, and was thoroughly spooked by The Alexander Mcqueen show at the Victoria and Albert Museum. With wonderful weather in London what a Summer it has been.

Tuesday, 9 June 2015

Last night I arrived at St James's Theatre and had dinner with two of my most favourite friends Barrington and Ines De La Roche, from The Dark Theatre. Artists and raconteurs.

I was excited about seeing the Mcqueen play written by James Phillips and directed by John Caird.  I wanted, after having seen the Alexander McQueen show at The Victoria and Albert Museum, to be taken back to another time. I used to be allowed in by Snowden Hill one of the hairdressers behind the scenes, to see my favourite fashion fantasy of all times. In my opinion Alexander McQueen's was the only show that was not deadly dull. My son Charles went to work for Guido the hair stylist. My son was mad about Lee, and so he ticked off the models as they arrived, getting them coffee etc. Nothing of course could live up to my expectations, Lee is no longer with us.

I can say that whilst it was fabulous to watch the dancers beautiful choreography and the clever set pass by, there was so much more to the life of this extraordinary designer. How he worked? Where was the magic? The girl in the tree show was so much more, and so much less? Why people focus on the negative I never know? It is much more powerful than the positive, and so draining and heavy to watch. Of course, Lee committed suicide, but where was the humour? One thing I did realise was that it is certainly braver to live, after all many of us suffer depression.  My feeling is there is a problem with people when they make themselves too exclusive and don't interact with society. The actor Stephen Wight was excellent but you can only work with the lines and direction provided. and a tortured genius is not good entertainment. I was once told by Academy Award winning Sir Tim Rice some words of advice "Don't have anyone on stage alone for longer than 4 minutes as the audience begins to hate him/her" and a "musical about a person suffering anorexia is not good entertainment"

The could have been solved by Tracey Ann Oberman who played Issy Blow. Issy and I spent three Summers together in The South of France, she lived next door to me in Chester Square in Eaton Square. She was educated at Heathfield and was naturally grand. There is a certain stature that you have when you are educated privately that does not slip. She was witty, mean, depressed, silly, clever, gossipy, funny and very naughty. She was a camp show girl. The woman was acting her, but could not be her obviously. The actress sort of looked like her, but where was the lipstick on her teeth? The dirty hair? Where was the couture dress that was so filthy on the inside that it stood up on its own, Issy looked like a couture tramp.  I remember Issy once saying to my son, wear this new dress from Mcqueen, run round the garden in it, so it looks better, Charles did, trashing it with the label still in. She did not have psuedo French accent. Issy spoke with received pronunciation which Tracey should have easily been able to adopt having been educated at Central? So perhaps the script was wrong or perhaps the director?.
Issy correctly played would should have brought light relief to the dark spots.
She was not fake, yet so fake. She was naturally very generous, once in a home in Pimlico I visited her in, she was giving her black patent Fendi handbag away to a very pretty black girl. Her clothes too. My housekeeper refused to touch anything of hers, incase it was infested with germs. Issy had a touch of "Miss Haversham" about her. Her friends were Amanda Harlech and Lucy Birley, Tim Noble and Sue Webster, Phillip Treacy etc. She had the ability to be affectionate with a doorman. She was a huge snob and yet not a snob at all. Issy screamed at me once saying that I should not have a job as I was rich, I took the job away from someone who was not. She could be jealous, then loving. a character who could never have been forgotten. I have often said I would never have changed my looks unless she had not originally re styled me as Marilyn Monroe for a Tatler shoot putting me against a huge penis. I was horrified. She thought it was funny. She ran up huge bills, she was Madame Bovary, she was as witty as Mae West.

Nevertheless this one act play should be seen. I would love to re write it in some areas, It is so nearly very good. I would love to see a copy cat Phillip, Daphne, Seane, Annabelle, and less of the woman in the tree who is nonsense compared to the 'real life characters' that actually existed and still exist.


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