I was having lunch one day in San Lorenzo's when Mara came up to me and said: "You know when you love somebody because you love their smell" I had never thought about it before, but realised that perhaps I had made a huge mistake. Unfortunately these alarming and clever words have stayed in my mind ever since. I now continually hunt for a man whose smell overwhelms me and throws me into a turmoil of passion. If they catch me sniffing and I like it they will know they are in trouble.
Last night was the launch party for Daphne Guinness' scent "Daphne" which, as I covered myself with this glorious bottom of the drawer of an aristocrat rose powder puff smell, reminded me of my childhood, when I snooped through my glamorous grandmother's silk pyjamas.
Daphne was here taking me on a different journey, she is a style instigator. This week she has already driven me to Paris, without her having a clue what influence she creates, solely for the purpose of buying wedgie ankle boots that I had seen in March on the catwalk of Olivier Theyskens, his brilliant last show for Nina Ricci. Boy, did they get that wrong when they hired him. He is much too hip and trendy for such an established and old world couture house. I love his clothes and own some of his first trousers still after ten years. After all he made the same ones for Madonna. Anyway I dashed of to buy a pair only to find there were just safety versions. Your hopes will be dashed if you want to buy any of his clothes, they looked very ordinary when Oliviers' show was extraordinary. Back to the ankle boots, Daphne was casually wearing them on an aeroplane journey from Los Angeles to London, and I had to buy them too. But sadly they are nowhere to be found.
So I will have to make do with her delicious scent, that I can still smell on me after a night on razzle.
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