Thursday, 30 July 2009


Now darlings.Just take a look at these photographs, doesn't Rushka look the splitting image of Michael Jackson?. She was of course his stylist, but the similarity is incredible, it was accidental as I have known Rushka for several years, and he is well documented. But WOW..


One thing makes me vomit and that is reading anything that I have done. I really believe that somebody takes over my body while I write and the last thing I want is to be reminded of it. It is the past, that is how I view it, with feelings, blisters, sores, laughter, smiles, and memories that I would sometimes rather forget. So when Lee Johnson asked me to read my book Cloak and Dagger Butterfly, I wasn't too keen, and after mucking around like some diva I eventually said rather reluctantly okay. I then proceeded to back track and hope it would go away. Of course Lee is rather too efficient to let it slip and so in a daze I arranged some friends to read for me, of course I had my head out the window, in horror. Lee Johnson arranged pop art places around London, and then gets people in by doing performance art, and together with Bakul Patki she puts the exhibition of new artists together.

Monday, 27 July 2009


With roughly 700 guests Cartier as usual made sure that we were spoiled rotten. With no hint of a recession thank goodness, no talk of it either, it has become such a crashing bore. We were made to feel very welcome by the great party giver, Mr Arnaud Bamberger. He pulled out all the stops , we were fed in style by yummy chef Mossiman. Lobster salad and courgette flowers to start with, and beef that melted in your mouth for the main course. Forget about watching the horses, they were being brushed by the grooms, I was interested in the people. Luckily I have a huge wardrobe to raid from as the weather changed every few minutes and tulips just don't do my figure justice. I grabbed my delicious soft Chloe navy blue silk shirt, a Burberry black rain coat,Ysl platforms to give me some fake legs and my new mini shorts from Pinko just trashy enough for me..

An array of diamonds, pearls, pretty shoes, leather sandals, bare skin in tasteful and of course not so tasteful amounts, everybody looked ravishing, elegant, and luckily some were naughtily daring from behind. Photographers swarmed from one exotic creature to another. Flowery summer dresses, catching the light and wind, as the girls darted by, like pretty butterflies. The marquee was a production with photographs of past games printed directly onto the canvas tenting, white flowers, pales green foliage and white roses with topiary bushes towards the top. Polo of course has changed, and clearly I was way out of date. I started going roughly twenty five years ago at Ham Polo Club, and it used to be an Old Guard affair, with everybody in the correct attire. Forget this there is little correct left, cleavage, brown legs, perfect lashings of mascara, and every body looked out of the pages of magazines. Indeed they were. Pussy Cat Girl Ashley Roberts flirting with Leonardo de Caprio. To attrack such stardom it was hardly a low profile event. Mixing the young and talented is an adventurous idea for the best public relations in the world. P.S Don't forget to buy a little something, to keep the whole thing from sinking next year, please.

Saturday, 25 July 2009


I have been clenching my teeth all week one way or another, my face was in a sort of grimace. I am in a state of excitement, everything is starting to look sunnier, My house exchanged contracts yesterday, so there are so many interesting new challenges for me to go through. Finding a house is one of them. I have fallen in love several times, but truly nobody has put anything new on the market, at the moment, due to the financial crisis.

So whilst I could have gone mad with the uncertainty I have been playing with some 20 year old friends, who were so much fun to hang out with. No one needs anything for their face, let alone strange potions and injections, when they spend time with youth. It brightens the eyes and it's a Dorian Gray syndrome, lets hope that I don't exchange my soul, like him, for it, or indulge in decadence.. No unspeakable sins against me please. I like to try and remain a little pure, new people, new adventures help ideas flourish and I love those. Being in love makes me swing from elation to deflation in about ten minutes. Lets face it though youth gives us the feeling that spring water and eternal sunshine does. Nothing better than hanging out with my sons and their friends, or receiving roses from admirers. I have decided I shall have a skip in my walk this Summer.

Let us Pray.

Hopefully new elections are on the way, the Conservatives are due to get in and it is time to change. With new backing from people like Tracey Emin, I shall continue my undying support for them in the next election. With 50 percent taxation, supposedly under Labour, I would be a fool not to vote for anybody but David Cameron. I am Conservative in every way. I live the life style, come from a conservative background, and will wait and help in whatever way I can, to make sure they get in. I hate fake, and politics today is just that.

Thursday, 23 July 2009


I have always had a fascination with singing, as a child I was always asked to sing the Christmas carol, and I found singing in choirs to be more challenging than anything else. I was surrounded by song, Jessye Norman, Rosa Ponselle, Maria Callas, Felicity Lott, and through my mother who was an opera singer, I became a lover of music. I would demand to listen to Fischer Dieskau's, Erl-Koenig, and say scare me Mummy scare me. I loved her singing. She would rush me through singing grades over a week end. Sadly I never had her voice, but I love it with a passion. I have dreams of singing at the Dartington Summer school, and my son is going. Charles has ability, and so song goes to another generation. His passion is finding rare footage of famous divas, so wherever I go it is a cultural haven.

Digging around the internet, therefore, is the reason why I have become an insomniac, I realize I spend hours trying to find out obscure information, which makes for exciting times. Backed up with You Tube there is no reason to ever sleep. Mozart, I discovered, last night borrowed the singing techniques of his pet starling. Great composers such as Beethoven, were inspired by the song of a blackbird. Birds have a large vocal repertoire of melodies and sounds and when I used to keep canaries I noticed that they loved Mozart and used to go very quiet when I put on Strauss, for instance. The more commercial the sound, especially Marriage of Figaro, the happier they were, I understand, the Starling is noted for singing out of tune and creating other dissonant sounds. Mozart was fascinated by the songs it sang. Mozart's "A Musical Joke" (the K522 divertimento) composed eight days after the starling died, was in fact based on the bird's song. It is not quite the quality of Mozart, what's going on? The interpretation, was obviously an imitation of the Starlings voice. The composition mimics the dissonance of the starling, the ability of starlings to intertwine, and sing in two different voices, whistling tunes while also singing one off key. The Starling can start and stop at will, in mid sentence, Mozart copied this. I have had no sleep, and love the sound of birds outside my window at dawn. Falling into a deep sleep to K453 is a delicious experience.

When I was young I listened to if the bird had musical ability. I am truly going to try and find a Starling right away, before I had thought of them as a bit scary now I shall look at them with love.

Tuesday, 21 July 2009



If I don't have a nervous break down this week it will be a miracle. The eclipse is on its way, and we will have all new realities, which is amazing. I was getting very tired of my old one. How exciting is it to pack up a house you have loved and adored for 18 years, looked after and cherished. How exciting is it that your children spend time with a new woman who can't possibly understand the love you have for them. I still remember Charlie's first steps in his brand new red shoes he loved at seven months. Yes, he walked at seven months. I found them tucked away lovingly in a little box full of chiffon. Jack was a little later, he was lazy which is funny as he is so active now. I so loved them both as every mother does. It is therefore tragic that due to divorce and modern living that they spend so much time away from me, and that I have to kiss my dogs through Skype. It is funny though that the dogs do respond, they know everything, and see it too.

I was shown the house I had loved in the South of France. I looked at it with the look of distrust. Jealousy no, it looked like a hospital, all white. It had become a hotel, foreign and unfamiliar. The appearance dead. Not fun as it had once been. Twenty children used to play and laugh. Why is it that a woman likes to eradicate the past, to feel secure, like it didn't ever exist? It's funny that ex wives have to so readily to take on the future, bravely like we don't mind. We do though. However, I remember being in the same position as she is now, and including the wife I had so hurt. I liked her, we tried to make a larger family. Now that romance has ended I still speak to her, she is a lovely woman and a talented photographer too.

Women from all over the world are different, so it is, and will always be, cultures educate. I shall never understand the excitement though, had by snitching something belonging to somebody else. In the meantime I undo the past, as all is revealed to me in a misty haze and my memories achingly jogged. If I snuffle a lot this week, and am distant, please understand.

Sunday, 19 July 2009


Where is the freedom, where?
Freedom is not equality, and equality is not freedom
Is freedom politically correct?.
We have to be silenced, not pleased with our achievements?
and for heavens sake don't show ambition
If you do have ambition, don't tell anyone, keep it quiet, you will be penalized for being industrious. Even if you have luck and opportunity, you are forbidden to talk about it.

What is the problem with speaking correctly. Why do we have to adopt miss shapen words that mean nothing, to sound cool. Can you imagine if when the Queen is offered lunch, she said to her butler "yeh your crucial gov, your're a diamond geezer".

What is wrong with the face of reality, it still exists. We can see cows. If we have to accept any language what about the pigs, who lead orderly lives and look after their families, communicating from toddlers. Why are n't social services down there giving them a council flat?.

Everybody has got their priorities wrong if we were all more spiritual there wouldn't be this problem. Why aren't we called a number. Life, unless you are privileged, and lucky to be an outsider, mentally or physically, seems to be under 'a barbed wire regime'. We are to blame, we unwittingly allowed a' barbed wire regime' in an attempt to strive for equality, fairness, etc. But it is equality gone mad. What happened to being unique, Britain is famous for being unique, 60's Carnaby street went all over the world.

I loved being whistled at. It makes me feel like a woman, because soon enough it will stop. When I was I working I was left a note on my desk which today would have given be 50,000 pounds.
"When you have finished your make up and nails could you do some photo copying" Ghastly but they were pulling my leg, so where has the fun gone? Sexual harassment is "You look nice today" It's sad men don't open a door anymore, but not surprising when stem cells are being produced in test tubes and made into sperm. Will they genetically modify what we are going to look like.. Will that be so pc?

We are already on the way, couture is no longer pc, individualism is no longer pc, certain songs, vocabulary, and thought is no longer p.c. Wait, if you are fashion conscious you will have to have secret meetings like the early Christians.

Wearing and making of fur coats I understand, but to be penalised because the clothes fit and just happen to look chic, you are going to get P.C. Policed?.

RED LIPSTICKS, FUMES AND SHARPENERS, twenty years of treasures

What do you do with twenty years worth of treasures? I look in my cupboards and slam the door immediately. I hate to throw anything out. From unused prescription drugs with names that mean nothing, for some forgotten problem, to pieces of china. I have kept diet pills from 23 years ago just in case I should suddenly put on ten pounds. The problem is everything I have is a friend, so where do I start?. Last night at ten o'clock I braved my make up cupboard. What a nightmare, endless hair brushes that I have no memory where they came from, fifty make up brushes that I have no use for, as I am unable to work them correctly. So in a huge effort to be green, I decided to put everything into black bags, to give away. I wondered how I have 15 hairsprays which I hate because they choke me to death. I feel like dying every time I breath in horrible fumes, and although it keeps my blond curls in place, I collapse afterwards swearing I won't use it again, but every morning I forget, putting beauty before anything.
As I went out with Jean Louis Sebagh I have endless creams that I used to experiment with, face packs on my legs, a peel on my bosoms, creams endless creams. Some had been hiding for at least five years. some had turned green, with labels coming off, Sex lotions, the new aromatic oils to guarantee a happy life, tanning lotion instead of a holiday, hair removing cream when I am practically bald. 25 pairs of tweezers. The funny thing is that although I am rarely frugal, I hardly ever buy make up. I hate it, I don't like visiting the make up counters in shops, the women have white shiny scary faces, perfectly drawn on, that look more like cartoons. The look of a whore, and a girl in a panto, I visit about every 18 months, to try on a new colour, hoping that they have a red lipstick that won't go onto my teeth or land up on my pillow. They always fail me. Foundation is another dodgy area, too white and you look like a ghost, and too brown and you look like a footballers wife, and as your lover kisses you, it comes off on his face, not a pretty look, therefore becoming plainer and plainer, before his very eyes. Oh dear such a mess. Nail Varnish, nine blacks, twelve reds Chanel, Revlon, and three different blues, the best from Yves St Laurent, the fads of fashion seem more noticeable here. That are wasn't too bad.
The business I shall go into, in my next life, is pencil sharpeners, I found at least fifty, Terry, Chanel, Bobbi Brown. I couldn't believe it. Every time I have bought a pencil, I must have been given a sharpener. Off into the bag they went. Nearly empty I shall start with the boxes by my bed. The letters the trinkets from old love stories. The bills, the theatre tickets of some lost passion. I shall remember them all hopefully and remember what my son Jack said to me, three years ago, when I attempted to do this. "Throw the whole lot out, burn them, because that is what we shall be doing when you are dead"

Friday, 17 July 2009


I have been a lover of Couture since a child the opulence and the vulgarity, the word couture is beautiful in itself, and the idea that nobody will have the same item of clothing, made to measure flattering my figure, in exquisite materials, is a thrill, for me. Choosing unusual and exotic satins, silks, cashmere, wools, chiffon makes me want to dive into my bank balance and dream of the one and only dress I would never tire of. The problem is I seem to tire so easily. I love to shop, yes it is a terrible thing to admit, but the thrill of entering a beautiful paradise full of clothes is better than almost anything. So with great excitement I prepare myself to get ready for last few houses that have the cash to indulge in this old world venture. Rumors on the street are that Alexandra Shulman and Anna Wintour did not attend any shows because of the financial collapse and that Vogue Editors had to buy their own tickets. I totally understand what she is saying and agree, but where will all the ideas come from in the future. Lovely John Galliano's triumphant thoughts, have left my brain often in turmoil, gigantic models walking the catwalk. Coming to think about it we should all go and bang on their doors and demand that they show. This is exactly what it is. A Show.
My goodness me, this week has been a joy, a relief.

I finally found fun hanging out with my English girlfriends. It was good to talk about horses, and shop with a friend. Lucy and I first went to Galerie Lafayette, and although most people hate it, I love it. It has very good buyers, and when you fully understand the layout, it can be quick and empty. Also most of my friends prefer Bon Marche, but the sales are better at Lafayette. I tried on the new short shoulder less jumpsuit by Yves St Laurent, it looked too frumpy. I would have taken scissors too it and cut it off above the knee. I preferred the similar designs of Stella McCartney and Helmut Lang, and so did the shop assistant. I also found some black suede platform ankle boots of Louis Vuitton without the toes. So left happily with them. We then went to Colette of rue St Honore, and I bought the fabulous evening jacket of Balmain's as it fitted like a glove and now I have two, and yet another pair of ankle boots by Yves St Laurent. Some sexy underwear at Sabbia Rosa on Rue St Peres and then back to my house, merrily lying in the drawing room listening to Rachmaninov 2 one of my favourite pieces of music.

Dinner at The Costes and lunch at Cafe Flore I swam back to England to have dinner with Martha Fiennes and her husband George Tiffin, who have a comfortable and cosy house in London. Well worth it as their cooking was incredible, a barbeque. Martha is a funky British girl with blond streaks in her dark brown hair. Lively and interesting she bravely directed her brother Raph Fiennes in Eugene Onegin, a beautifully visual production based on Alexander Pushkin's poem. I love the last scene, Liv Tyler is very moving and Raph too. The other film she made was Chromophobia, written and directed by her and produced by Ron Rotholz, a must for Sundays. I love her twists. I only wish that she was able to do more.

Yesterday I left first thing for Arundel Castle in Sussex to have lunch with one of my oldest friends. Lucy said I must brave the motor way because Georgie would introduce me to a husband. We had a good laugh about that. It would be a very brave man to be able to put up with me. In any case lunch was luckily vegetarian, I can't look at anymore piggies crossing my plate. Then we went round the castle and garden. I love this period of history. The swash buckling heroes of yesterday lined up in paintings in the halls, I loved so many stories about the Norfolks, the premier Catholic family in England. From poets to crooks to collectors what a crowd they have been. Now my girlfriend Georgie, who is nearly a hippy Duchess, she loves meditation, yoga healthy eating, and gardening. Her garden is a fantasy by Isabel and Julian Bannerman and hundreds visitors from England come to see it, although it is new and still growing in. They put on plays with the Royal shakespeare company and concerts. Well worth seeking out the joys of Arundel.

Monday, 13 July 2009



I love the Garden of Eden, a fantasy of fairy tales, and have often imagined children's furniture huge and suitable for adults. I have gone into children's departments full of hope and excitement at finding unusual pieces. In this new exhibition at the Victoria and Albert Museum they have created the set of Snow White, or another dreamy Fairy Tale. A Wonderful fig leaf wardrobe with a tree in the middle of it by Tord Boontje. Recasting foliage and roots in metal. Is exceptional. A linen cupboard with a bed rather like a gypsy caravan by Jurgen Bey, makes me want to go round the English Countryside by horse and cart. A boat bath suitable for Orphelia, mixing artistry and design by Wicki Somers completes the fantasy. An enchanted castle tells a story of romantic infantile dreams.
Sales at Phillips de Pury have pieces regularly coming up for sale.


When friends actually make 25 years together it is a beautiful thing. There is something special about this exotic treasure, Debbonaire von Bismarck, a truly stunning bird with good values, and lovely sons married to Bolo von Bismarck. It is quite something to be this happy. When you consider that Marriage vows were probably set up with the Magna Carta when people had a life expectancy of 35 years, Marriage is a rare and wonderful thing. Everybody at the party looked colourful I loved the ruffles of Nicky Haslam, such manly style, the flowers of Eric were drop dead, and so exotically held together fed by little plastic water bags, that danced in the light. I looked like an Amazonian spider. Donatella Flick was wearing Valentino Couture and the head piece of Phllip Treacey's for Debbie's was so stunning and unusual. Katy Braine dressed as a pirate. The best conversation I had was with Lucas White who truly believes despite everything marriage should last.

Saturday, 11 July 2009


I wanted to walk down Sloane Street this morning and couldn't get into any of the shops.. I was about to get furious pounding on Chloe's doors, when I realized it was the fifth shop I had gone into, and all of them had armed guards. I almost wanted to ask, am I on the guest list?, there are night clubs with less security, and palaces too. Eventually I got in and asked what is the problem. The shop girls said there were armed forces searching the street for jewels and clothes, big gangs of men, who go from shop to shop smashing the windows as they go. Now this is terrifying because of violence, they said that Winter was worse. I went along the street wishing I had taken their doorman with me. Everybody looked part of a gang, should I risk walking to Prada, or La Perla or is it just too dangerous?. It was like those nightmares when you hear somebody in your room and you can't make a sound, struggling for your life and you can't move. Last week Cartier had their windows smashed in. Paule Ka shop girls looked terrified when I entered with my handbag. I would not want to work down this street. It is a shame that you need bravery to put a dummy in the window. I now walk in the middle of the road, and dread walking into Dick Turpin saying stand and deliver. It's highway robbery and you can't even get 10 percent off. If you want this seasons handbag, it seems that you have to steal it rather than buy it. Hell I don't want to wear that mask over my eyes.


My favorite words for the week are still Slattern Doxy and Strumpet, now without going into detail, and I have changed the names, removed the piece from my blog, but I am sure you know, exactly who and what you are. But hell I am in a great mood, and all primped and preened to perfection for the Bismarck's Soiree. Have you ever noticed that if you repeat a word or name over and over and over again it becomes ridiculous. Although some names don't even need to be uttered because they are so ridiculous without any help or repitition at all, again you know who you are. The mere suggestion of them provokes laughter.


I am a lucky old bag I am stuck in this fantastic hotel, 11 Cadogan Gardens, in Chelsea, and I am not complaining, no hell with that. In the rain I am a happy bunny in a four poster bed with a bit of a head ache I can laugh merrily. No water is a pain in the neck, we all give these things no further thought, until they go wrong. I am just hoping as I said before that my Mother is haunting me..
This afternoon I went to look for long dresses, I hate long dresses, I look like matronly in them, putting them on guarantees the killing of my favorite designers and no sex for me. I have been nagged to death to wear them, and on most occasions I can put them at the back of my wardrobe and say I haven't got any. They have to be black. I hate shopping for them. The only thing to do is to see my friend James Servini, who once did a photographic competition using my work. He is the clothes hunting machine in Selfridges. The personal shopping king along with Pandora Delevigne they rule the rails and steal the best for me and for all my friends. He is the only person who convinced me I looked attractive in one by Moschino, and now I will take him everywhere with me in a suitcase, When somebody says long and flowing I hope they mean the Thames, not the chiffon rag I hate and bought in sale just for emergencies. I usually try on the most unattractive one so people say "yes, you are right, get it off straight away"
I also skipped by their exhibition of Art, but only like Kay Saatchi's choice.

Friday, 10 July 2009


We all know that there is a saying "when it rains it pours" . This week was a torrent. I now have accepted my ex husband marrying and actually realize Its not interesting at all. I am sad I lost my friend up to a point, but I don't like complications, soup, and promiscuous relationships, and wanted my life to be fun, not full of anecdotes about my previous world. I will always be in Johan's life that I have to accept and nothing can change. We have children together. It certainly has been an emotional roller coster, but because of the time of year have managed quite happily on my own.

I also decided I am not buying a house on the other side of the park because I felt in enough of a washing machine without putting myself into an area I hardly know. It is funny that you are either a South of the River or North of the Park Person. Okay you lot out there I accept I am a Belgravia Girl. In Paris I am more Bohemian and in LA more active. I am a changeable feast depending on where I am.

I also want to be quite close with a man again and be happy that they are snoring next to me. I want to feel the closeness and smell of somebody's skin.

The last straw this morning that guarantees misery was no water so despite the torrent I am in a drought at home, and I have no water for at least the week end. Ghosts are meant to be able to activate electricity and water, so may be it is the Ghost of my Mother "Sorrows come not as single spies but in Battalions" Shakespeare of course said it so well.

The good thing is I am in some delicious hotel room with huge candles, red velvet and gold, very Venetian, rather Papal in fact. It would be a wonderful place to live in the middle of Winter. The hotel is 11 Cadogan Gardens, in the centre of Chelsea. It has such a fabulous feel to it. Black floors, beautiful bathrooms, lit candles, fireplaces, televisions. So out of all this melodrama with one of my sons running down the street with suitcases and music, it is rather calming to settle here for a night or two.

With the boys off to do their duty with my ex husband's new wiflet I have time to play. I found a new house on a shortish lease in Chester Square, as I couldn't live without my Baker and Spice bun each morning. Let's hope that it goes through, I dare not go away on holiday until it all looks a bit settled.

Last night I went to the Serpentine's Summer Party, which looked stunning, as it was a particularly beautiful night, I loved the Pavilion by Japanese architect SANAA.
“London can be quite cliquey - but this party brings everyone together,” said Hussein Chalayan. A night for only attractive people. I realized few were there who were less than perfect in every way. Well dressed elegance, added
to the funkiness of Jeff Koons colourful paintings.

1 Cadogan Gardens, johan eliasch, Ana Paula Junquiera, shakespeare, Serpentine's summer party, jeff koons, Sanaa, Saskia Boxford, charles Eliasch, Michael White, Poppy Delevigne, Kelly Hoppen, Amanda Eliasch in Louis Vuitton with Rebecca Cassell

Tuesday, 7 July 2009


What and who is real?. Money buys your scenery, the clothes, the entourage, yards and yards of somebody elses hair, boobs, and face lifts. You can become the opposite sex for 50,000 pounds. You can buy style, publicity, and be silenced with money. People can tell palatable lies, in fact money in able to buy counterfeit.
Zsa Zsa Gabor with her diamonds, darlink, bought sexual kudos. Princess Margaret commented on Elizabeth Taylor and The Krupp diamond, and said "how vulgar" then when it was offered to the royal digit, Elizabeth Taylor said "not quite so vulgar now."
Madonna has bought herself the image of the earth Mother, whilst Angelina Jolie, is tank girl with a heart. It's all fake, the devil shows you a veil of illusion but when you lift up the veil, the sickening reality is luminated ,and it is too much for people to bare.
If you don't like somebody, the Mafia can provide eradication of your enemies, for a fee. Money makes comfort and removes discomfort. It is misused, people buy forests for their new crown, and irrigate large deserts so that they can look saintly, not realising that to flood a desert, you have to drain an ocean.
The world is run on idiots and megla maniacs, who think that most people are stupid. Why aren't these very people building a decent hospital in London, rather than embellish one of our religious temples in London, costing millions.
We can't afford to bring Matron back or buying the nurses a decent uniform, and as for giving them a bit more money for hard work, they can forget it. We should be getting rid of super bugs not giving another medal for somebody to wear.
We are in a double recession, and something is terribly wrong. Look out of the window it's the same for everybody. When you get married and you expect that a husband or wife should have different qualities than a girlfriend, or boyfriend, and then rush to have children. As a parent they should have another facet, how can you expect anything when passion turns into duty. All that marriage can give you is a marriage license, it doesn't wash away your previous sins in the tide. It is instead a ticket for a divorce, .
It doesn't change the original actions. If you do something shitty it will come back to haunt you. Just as doing something good, you could expect an accolade. However, at the end of your life, your trophy will be presented to you.
I am not offering myself as the blessed virgin, or this years Miss World contestant winner, I am just Amanda, a, woman living her life. I don't need the paraphanalia to feel good about myself. If I do, its just adornment, and not an inoculation, you can't purge your sins with money.
Can we also finish with this celebrity culture? We need a healthy perspective. I am fed up when people mention my family and they use three generations old celebrity status, to make the whole thing palatable.


I first listened to Norma when I was very young, and fell in love with her, truly believing it to be the best opera ever written by Bellini, it was also Queen Victoria's too. I imagine I listened to Callas singing it, because any other voice for me fails miserably, although this is not true as their are quite a few that have sung it beautifully. Written for 'old school dramatic coloraturas' it tells of the gripping story about a Demi Goddess called Norma who has two children by a Roman General. Then the Roman General falls in love with Norma's handmaiden who unknowingly tells Norma of her passion. Written when Bellini was in his late 20's. It has all the ingredients for pure theatrical drama, love, betrayal, anger, innocence, a true saga, ending with the General and Norma killing themselves, by throwing themselves on to a fire.
Lucky Queen Victoria was able to listen to the great Giulia Grisi who came from a very musical family and was the daughter of one of Napolean Bonaparte's officers, and mezzo soprano, Maria Malibran, obviously there are no recordings for us to enjoy. It is a brave choice for any singer to sing this truly difficult part. It has been said that it is easier to sing three Brunhildes in one night than one Norma, The most famous singer to tackle this was obviously Maria Callas who sang 89 performances of it in her whole career, plus the rehearsals, practice, emotional exhaustion that the whole opera requires. 1948 - 1955 were Callas's best years and it is said that she lost her voice because of it and obviously also for her love of Onassis. Other greats are Monserrat Caballe who I have since got to enjoy and Rosa Ponselle, a legendary opera diva,whose voice sounds beautiful. Tenors too were exceptional, Franco Carelli and Kurt Baum.
With the highest note written being a top C, some go all out for the Eflat. I can proudly still hit a top Bflat.
I was so excited when I heard that Grange Park, in Hampshire, were putting it on and that the singer Clare Rutter was going for it, because it is such an ambitious role, you can truly admire Rutter's bravery. As I have said she was against the best 'old school dramatic coloraturas' with huge voices that compete with the best orchestras in the world. How would Clare do?
I discover that Claire Rutter has had critical success with her performances for Opera North of La Gioconda and has been nominated for the Maria Callas award for a performance of Fiodiligi in Cosi fan Tutti, and compared to Maria Callas frequently, Having travelled around the world singing in so many roles, she should have the experience I think. Plus I felt very guilty I hadn't got full knowledge of her, as I should have done, but then with so many interests it is difficult to know in depth any subject. So I beg Grange Park for a ticket, any ticket.. Claire, I discover had studied at the Guildhall School of Music, the music school, which I wanted to go to, if only I had been good enough.
Grange Park and its theatre are pretty palatial, and after a delicious dinner of tomato soup, baked English ham, and strawberries with clotted cream the action started.

Claire was competent, and although the performance as a whole can't be compared with the major opera houses of the world, it was a lovely evening, listening to my number one opera, with Clare singing beautifully. Of course there were limitations, we were in the middle of English Countryside, and in a opera house that has a small budget in comparison to huge houses. It is just incredible that we are lucky enough to have this live adventure and to hear someone with ability, if not the flare and charisma of the past divas.
I realise I
Shouldn't tell
you anything
You are not
part of my life
I am in
Your mind
just fantasy
But I am in
Terrible pain
and not able to
share it
or bore you
so perhaps its
better to eat
cherries and mango
and pretend I am
happy as
a Geisha
But I am not.

Sunday, 5 July 2009


How shall I exist now, after my ex husband has remarried? Well, as I haven't lived with him for five years or so, I think I shall just about cope. One kind friend sent me marketing ideas on how to re brand. Now that is an idea and could be fun. It basically says in the first line that I shouldn't boast about my product, as it will shine through. I am looking in the mirror and hoping,
Living and being married to somebody does not mean you lose your own identity, in my case, it was rather difficult to lose. I am pretty strong willed and like to be free, as does his new wife. In fact I am very independent.
After two half days in bed with the curtains drawn and no air, feeling miserable and living in the past. I am much better. I went off to exercise yesterday, miracles will never cease and giggled with my sons who love my pilatis teacher Behsat Ahmet, discussing the latest opera, Norma, at Grange Park, which is meant to be brilliant.
Much better than sulking. Although lets face it sulking can be fun.
With a lighter feel, and a few less clingy friends and a good sense of humour I shall be just fine. I can continue to care for Jogues, and the boys and enjoy this extended modern family life. Divorce doesn't exactly mean what it is called in any case, just as marriage for me wasn't the 1950's ideal that I had hoped it would be. I had thought it would inlude baking bread,wearing aprons, liking cooking, the school run, barbeques, instead it was jet setty, not intimate,long Valentino dresses and quite corporate, but I am not complaining. I wish Johan and Ana lots of luck and love, now I have calmed down. In any case there were moments when I quite liked Ana, and we were almost friends. I asked her to my parties, and told my friends to be nice to her.
They do suit each other liking Parties, Politics, and Princes. I just wanted Johan to tell me, and not after the event. I like to be included, not excluded. I suppose he thought I would be screaming and yelling at the Registry Office. Well, darling, come on, I have a little pride.
As I said before, using the English language puts me into a great mood with some fabulous sounding words that work when you are feeling angry, but now as I am chirpy, what could be better than lying in bed cuddling my two beautiful healthy clever boys while I write.

Saturday, 4 July 2009


I am thinking of launching myself into the political arena.
I would like to be the ambassador for THE TRUTH PARTY, and say it as it is.
I realise it is completely new territory for me, but I love a challenge, and I love our country. If this makes me outspoken then take cover, or live a clean life.
I am looking for campaign head quarters, any suggestions are welcome, and I am looking forward to defending worthy causes . Aren't we all fed up of swallowing lies? Fed on old fashioned ideals, empty promises, and meaningless smiles. Long gone are the days of the local MP kissing a granny, opening a supermarket, playing a round of bingo, to look like they were part of the community. So time for a fresh start. Off with the old and on with the new.
I am available for interviews, photo sessions, and a lie detector. I am doing NLP, Anthony Robins has been a close friend. Stuart Wilde has lots to say. Deepak Chopra was an inspiration.
Girls we need change, and boys too, how can I turn my back on politics, when I live opposite the Iron Maiden.
How would you like your leader of THE TRUTH PARTY to look? What should our policies be, Truth at all times however painful, at least you know where you stand. First of all lets bring Matron back, and stop drugging the Grannies, we need the old, to watch the young.
I would like to know where the Government funding is leaking, or could be used for better advantage. I am fed up with politicians getting free bars of soap, first class tickets, and hospitality baskets. So tell me everyone how can I best serve you? I am not without contacts, but lets not waste time with stinky stories about the losers we leave behind.
We want clean air, and good thoughts. Have your say and I shall respond to every reply.


My name`s Cristina , I am on your facebook and i am also a follower of your blog. Read your post concerning slattern, and felt very touched by it because I guess that I identify and once felt your pain and who is the one who never felt betrayed? I am well aware that you might be bleeding your own brandy right now but I would rather let you know that since January that the brazilian press has been talking about a wedding in the Hamptons in August, which allegedly would take place at Theodore Forstmann`s house, who happens to be a friend of the couple. So I doubt that this was a last minute thing as he wants you to believe.
I have no business expressing my opinion that wasn`t even requested, we don`t even know each other, but exactly because we don`t know each other you can just delete this email and we leave it here. I truly believe that your ex husband has the deepest respect for you and does regret the divorce as well as cares about your feelings. YES, you are and will always be respected a la Chinese, you will always be the first wife and the mother of his two sons Amanda. If there is anything that is the outcome of the slattering situation is pain for everybody, maybe a fake touch of happiness and victory on the other side but I can guarantee you that it is not tasting the way she wishes, envisioned or hoped it to be, and you know why? Because she will never be the first my dear. It is like sitting on a throne without the crown and vests because they belong to the first one.
You don`t need a single shot of brandy to look at the mirror, look inside your eyes and see who you are, all the moments you lived with that man and belongs just to both of you. Common Amanda, don`t make me feel silly, i am 28 years old, never married or engaged, no kids yet and I don`t have to have any experience with any of that myself to know how important it might be for a couple and for a man to hold in his arms his first son, I confess to you that I have no intentions to ever marry a man who already have kids or was previously married because I would be very sad and unhappy to know that I am not the first wife and that my kids with him would feel more like bastards than prince or princess. I am Brazilian, from the same state as Ana Paula, never saw her in person although I have friends from London who occasionally hang out with her and the crew. I also understand her and the pain she feels for trying to feel your shoes. She is queen in Brazil, living surrounded by bees as you know how it is and why. I keep writing and writing but not even sure that this is the best to do right now and even if you are interested.
Don`t ruin the good work you were doing with the cleansing, the best you can do is to take the best care possible of your own self. If one of this days you feel a little bit like Django and have an impulse of freedom take a plane to Vancouver and I will present you a city named Whistler, if you haven`t been here before. Pure nature, with one of the best yoga instructor`s ever, she happens to be from London. Nature heals the soul. Come to a place where nobody knows who you are and will treat you like the beautiful soul you are, with no strings or rings attached.
All my love to you, Cristina


Its a new day, thank goodness.

Last night I whipped round to the Haywood Gallery,in a bit of a fluster, because my husband wanted to withdraw from the sale of my house, he would only agree to selling the house if I removed the ''slattern story". As he is no longer in my life, I felt I did not need to be bullied. I was not interested in giving in, but I did need to feel uplifted, so I half listened, because I was emotional, to a fabulous talk given by Keith Tyson whose work I admire. The work is not supposed to be intellectual, but in fact it is. Keith has an economical and emotional approach to his work, which comes from working in his studio and surrounds the life he is living. Nostalgia from his past mixed with subtle vulgarity. It has a feeling that he hammers away at French Philosophy. Sponsored by very generous Louis Vuitton and Harpers Bazaar. I love his work and saw him win the Turner Prize two or three years ago. Keith is a big man, with deep thoughts.

A little house with a bed and drawing equipment stood in the corner was by Yoshitomo Nara, called "A place like home" It reminded me of dreaming of past memories. A little distorted. I am a true romantic who likes to remember tree houses, sheds, cupboards from my past. His contained russian dolls, bambi's, cartoon figures, china cats, paintings, as series of objects that jog your memory back to his past, but also mine. The party's spirit was lifted with delicious drinks given, elderflower and melon. Cavier, we were thoroughly spoilt but in a clever way, Matt Collishaw, Polly Morgan, Debbonaire Von Bismarck were there adding to the colour and romance of the evening. I do like lectures instead of drinks, I like to learn things. Gossip is something that amuses me, but when you know the beginning, the middle and the end of stories, it is time to retire. Afterwards I wanted to go to Tracey Emin's birthday party. She has pretty parties with delicious food in her garden in the East End. I was going but my boys are equally sad and wanted me to have soup in the kitchen and cuddle. This I did.