Tuesday, 24 March 2015


Since the beginning of the year I have had some comedy episodes.  It started with going to the Oscars and on my way out losing my car pass. A pink unmissable piece of paper, then, because the car was late and I dared comment about it, being told I was a sixty year old woman and that I should not complain.  The facts are facts I am 54, born 1960. I do not need anybody's help and can drive myself to any party. I just hate being late, I think it is rude so I took off my clothes and cuddled up with my hairdresser girlfriend Angela Kalinowski. I drank a bottle of Dom Perignon, which I would never normally do,  and watched the Oscars from the comfort and luxury of my hotel suite at The Beverly Hills Hotel. It felt good. I slowly became happier and happier as the people I wanted to win, won.
Then there was the dramas of house buying the market in Los Angeles which is so fast that I ended up putting three offers on houses in one day. The market is so fast that you are lucky to get past the starting block.


I adore Tamara de Lempicka, and she is having a show in Turin. I  own a lot of her furniture, as the woman who eventually bought my  apartment in Paris did not want Mallet Steven's pieces made for Tamara, I am lucky to have them for my enjoyment. However my friend who is meant to be more than a friend, went to the show without me. This would have been fine, but I had had him to stay in the apartment. and we had met over his painting. I of course just wanted to see the best painting in the world "the girl in a red dress" hang pride of place. Forgetting it was the most romantic place that I have ever lived in, he slammed the door on my jammy wet fingers. The house in Rue Mechain has so many memories for me. I was trapped in the lift with my lover as he kissed my neck, I made passionate love on Tamara's sofa. The incredible staircase designed by Mallet Stevens that left you in awe, and the two exits in the substantial artist studio in Montparnasse.  I used to listen to Bach being played by an incredible pianist downstairs called Nelly.  On top of that I worked so hard with a friend to bring the apartment at 7 rue Mechain tastefully back to life. I felt a connection with Tamara she haunted me and I agree with her statement that she lived on the margins of society where normal rules don't apply as she lived on the fringe. Me too, We both love net over our faces, hiding our truth and pain...


I then went to see the drama of Antigone and argued like Juliette Binoche all the way back in a taxi, whilst discussing whether the Greeks really do have vile characters where they wish to kill everybody.   There was also the question whether it was actually based on Josephine Hart's brilliant book "Damage" where each line was a pearl.  The film was not up to much. Despite the script by David Hare, Directed by Louis Malle, Juliette Binoche and  Jeremy Irons, there was little sexy in it, the book had it all. After a dinner, there followed much debate on Dolce and Gabbana's faux pas. or was it freedom of speech which others were arguing?. My goodness never a dull moment.


With social media as strong as it is today, you don't need PRs looking after you round the clock you can do it yourself. That is the danger and its success.

Two days ago, I put a statement up on Facebook saying that "What on earth am I going to wear since Galliano has been insulting to the Jews and I chopped up his clothes (which of course is not true), Vivienne Westwood, chose to be anti British when she has received all the benefits of being a British, so I binned the tartan, which is true as she has certainly enjoyed the accolades of being a British Dame. and Dolce and Gabbana called IVF children "Synthetic" saying they needed both a mother and a father.  Wow the eclipse definitely made its mark. A huge row ensued between David Furnish, Elton John and the designer. Quite rightly the children do not want to be thought of as "Nylon and Plastic"

Last night I went to see lots ready to be sold at Sothebys for the Ivy Restaurant. Beautiful drawings of Virginia Woolf, Lucien Freud and Tracey Emin hanging together with tables set for Mrs Thatcher at the start of the Faulkland crisis.


Previously I had gone round to a friends house and I am now definitely terrified of dogs, the only place safe was the bath. I was being taught by a twelve year old how to be cool. She was saying "Don't smile. pout, put two fingers open against the mouth" "Listen to me. pout"  I was quite nervous to get it wrong.

After the rather sad 'end of an era' sale at Sothebys, where the doors of the famous Ivy restaurant were being sold off,  I went off to the new hotel hidden away on Duke Street, The Belmont for potted shrimps and liver pate with my great girlfriend the glamorous and witty Trinny Woodall, where we discussed her make up line and how to charm Wikipedia.


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