Friday, 20 May 2016


As I sit in the Le Fouquet at the Majestic in Cannes this week, I realise that this week has raced by. With gossip of bombs and Isis, the Festival has lost some shiny appeal, or perhaps I have grown up? Still full of celebrities from Susan Sarandon to Julia Roberts there has been more than just occasional glamour on the red carpet.

Rushka Bergman stealing the show in Hedi Slimane couture for Saint Laurent

At the beginning of the week, I was in need of a rest which I did not get. I thought about life and as Shakespeare said "Love is not love which alters when alteration finds, plus it was my birthday. Hey, I even found a convertible mini to rent, so, despite the aggravation of an emotional pick pocket, I was able to feel the wind and sun in my hair.

 I went from Charles Finch's party at Eden Roc, chic and interesting with photographs of the famous, including Brigitte Bardot, adorning the walls, to The BFI's brilliant and useful lunch where I bumped into the film director of Black Mass, Scott Cooper, who I had briefly met on the flight over to Nice. With parties and films, a full house, this week skipped by.  On the plane I  thought Scott was a member of a boy band who wrote slushy lyrics, not a bit of it, he was the master of Johnny Depp's film last year. This Festival for me was about work. I want to make my film on the life of  Egon Schiele. I had quite a bit of interest so watch this space. At lunch, however, I was watching Harvey Weinstein manoeuvre his life his wife and family on one one table, on another his office.

Lady Victoria Hervey. 

Lady Victoria Hervey sailed down the carpet several times and had a book launch for Lady in Waiting on a boat in the harbour.
Rushka Bergman in Dior talking with handsome Julien Landais who is about to make the Aspern Papers
starring Vanessa Redgrave.

The clothes on the red carpet were dramatic, my favourite dress was worn by Georgina Chapman from her own collection. She looked fabulous, then Rushka Bergman stole the show with her jaw-dropping couture dress by Hedi Slimane for Saint Laurent at the Chopard party. Her Instagram went mad and she hit 70K hits. That is the world we live in now, Snap Chat, Facebook and Instagram replacing the conventional world of magazines which arrive on the doorsteps three months out of date unless you are Genlux and then it arrives in the correct month. We work in real time. Vanity Fair was wonderful, the people watching especially, I saw  people try and gatecrash, this year no amount of charm worked on the girls with the clipboard. I got in but my Mcqueen coat creased terribly in the drive to the Cap.

With Julien Landais Amanda Eliasch wearing Saint Laurent, Dolce Gabbana dress

I wore Saint Laurent one night and Versace the next, I am only interested in films but was pleased to join Aileen Getty last night and her foundation to support Unesco's fight for cultural diversity in film, I was proud to sit at the table with brave men and women fighting for a perfect world.
With a packed wardrobe, I still was not crazy about anything in it and although I usually love Chanel, I funnily did not want to look like Air Hostess this season.

Aileen Getty, Amanda Eliasch and Sarah Ezzy

The films really did not hit the spot, lacklustre and average, they were not for me. The stars were here in force but the films I saw were better suited to television. I did, however, like the story Mal de Pierre's directed by Nicole Garcia. A film about a mental hospital and an imaginary love story.  I loved the passion and it had the pace of Thomas Mann's novel, Magic Mountain. With Marion Cotillard wearing an almost see through golden dress by Dior, showing every bit of her stunning body, one way or another she killed the red carpet.

Dressed down a Versace dress with Mcqueen Biker Jacket and Dior Sunglasses.
I was in a working mood.
Celebrity is not a star. Cannes is split between the deluded nightclubbers and the workers. The middle of the road look like a joke to both ends.

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