Friday, 30 November 2012

Die Antwoord - "Fatty Boom Boom" (Official Video)


A lot of emotional things have happened this week. It all started with a bird flying through my Atelier window in Paris and another window smashing in Los Angeles, it was equally weird.
THERE USED TO BE HERBACEOUS BORDERS, The Garden was designed in parts by Vernon Russell Smith
I was filming the last few scenes of my film. I was trying to put it off, I knew it would be painful.  I am brave but a few things in my life I find difficult.  My grandparents had owned a wonderful thatched house in a village called Hilcot, in Wiltshire. I grew up there playing in the garden. Snooping through the attics. Laughing, learning and sitting with my favourite people in the world, my Grandparents, Sidney and Beryl Gilliat. He was as the regular readers will know, a film director, writer and producer. My Grandmother Beryl, known as Squirrel, was an incredible pianist. Chopin, Mendelson  and Rachmaninoff were heard through the house.  She practised every morning, beautifully. Her red, "Persian Melon" fingers could be heard on the piano. My Grandfather disappeared all the time, hiding in his study, or the garden. I would sit on his knee and he would make me read passages from Shakespeare.  I would then lay the table for lunch, help prepare vegetables and pour them a whisky.  We always had Sunday lunch together. Squirrel was an incredible good.  Delicious smells oozed from the kitchen. I then washed up.
I knew it was over, my grandmother died in the 1981, and my grandfather in 1994. My mother, their daughter took over Embrook and much to my horror, the house was quickly destroyed.  She and my brother, pulled out flower beds, hedges, covered a swimming pool, ruined the vegetable garden, broke anything they could. Whilst this was happening, I used to suffer in silence. I like to build things, create things, make things pretty, the other side of the family like to cover everything with baby poo.
So it was with great sadness that I went Wiltshire yesterday.  I knew it would be tough. I dreaded it.
The sun was shining, and I went. I had a hot chocolate in my favourite place as a child, The Polly Tea rooms, quaint, old fashioned and still delicious. I walked round the town feeling like an alien. Everybody looked grey and old. I was with Justine Glenton, dressed in black, we looked as if we came from Mars. Totally out of place. We then walked on the Downs and visited the gardener. A brilliant gardner, not the type that are around today. A genius. His name is Lionel Dobson. He brought my brother and I up. I found him in his council house surrounded with photographs of Embrook,the garden and the house he so looked after. I said "It's Amanda" he stood up from his zimmer frame and smiled and said "There you are, you rascal, your brother ruined the house" I hugged him, I was so pleased to see him. He taught me how to grow runner beans, potatoes, peas, asparagus. Look after flowers, prune plants. His garden was immaculate and totally beautiful. In places it was wild and in others creative. Everything was orderly. He said " Why did your Mother leave the house to Toby, he was breaking things when he was a little boy, he will always break things?" I did not know what to say?. Nobody trusted me, nobody cared.  I had been left out of the will and luckily received the Reeper, a painting I liked as a child.  He said go and kill him he lives up at the mill. So off I went, with a gun in my head, and a cake in my hand. Justine delivered it to him saying happy Christmas, this is from Boris. (Boris is the hero, a 007 character in my film that I fall in love with)
Then I went to Embrook, Hilcot. The last time I had gone I was pushed off the sofa, cheekily by a black whippet, whose name is also Boris.  My Mother had just died, it was emotional, it was smoke filled.
Yesterday, I walked through the empty  house falling to bits. Old curtains scrunched up on the floor, an old piano in the room carelessly looked after. Crying. I could hear my Grandparents voices, "Go and brush your hair, brush your teeth, do the flowers, lay the table, sit up straight, etc"Terribly sad. Now it has new owners. It is a magical house for me. I can till see my family sitting there, talking, laughing. It is now going to have new lives in it. As I closed the door, I realise that two lots of glass broke this week, two because today I finally finished owning 7 Rue Mechain, and I finally said good bye to my past. I will not go back again. 

Wednesday, 28 November 2012


I have always loved beauty, secretly.  When I was a child my grandmother used to nag me to death to brush my hair and not be a mess.  She always had immaculate nails, my mother's were chipped and ruined. My Grandmother, Squirrel, used to nag her to death, to no avail.  It traumatised me however. My Grandfather used to say, no use being just pretty, you had better be interesting. So I listened to them. Although Squirrel did not use cosmetic surgery, or watch her weight she did look after her skin, dressed beautifully and lived with immaculate red nails, the colour was called Persian Melon.
Last night High 50 gave a lecture with Josephine Fairley and Dr Sister "For and against the pros and cons of natural methods of skin and ageing, versus the knife, medicinal and injection care". Watched over by the supposedly very natural,  Mariella Fostrup.  If she did not use Botox, her brow was remarkably smooth for  a woman over 50, or perhaps it was clever makeup?. In any case she looked good. 
Her views on cosmetic surgery are outspoken and documented, but does she truly mean it? Most celebrities lie.  They lie, as the press  nag.  But as Madonna is quoted as saying "She doesn't mind cosmetic procedures, she minds talking about them"  So many famous people, men and women, enter the offices of Doctors, to my certain knowledge, I have seen them. They could help the cosmetic procedure industry, and other women, a great deal if they were honest. Other women try to follow celebrities, but given the lack of truth, they fail. If only there was truth?. Magazines, The fashion industry, put pressure on women, but come on, why not "up your game? Why not have fun? Why not squeeze a few extra years out of life? However  it is a must to go to people who are recommended, and who are top of their profession. It is not worth taking risks.
Despite putting up my hand I was not chosen to give my opinion. My opinion is valid. I went out with Dr Sebagh for about eleven years and lived all arguments.  He loved debates. He also loved his profession and would spend hours in a laboratory discussing how to make his perfect creams.  I remember him saying that if you had no money use Nivea, and a cream was only good if it smelt vile of fish.  This perhaps is not true now, but it was five years ago. He spent hours developing his very successful cheaper line of creams with Cindy Crawford, called "Meaningful Beauty". Many a week end in Paris was spent creating his own line which is now hugely successful too. He cured my skin.  I used to have lots of spots, and with clever ideas I no longer have to suffer this horrible problem.
It is not firstly about looking younger. To age healthily is work mixed with your character, this will show on your face by fifty..  You have to work at looking after yourself unless you have remarkable DNA. Otherwise you will look old by 45.  Grey hair starts as early as 25 in some cases, and we happily slap on colour not realising that this too is dangerous. 
My view is I wish to age gracefully, squeeze as much out of life as possible and feel confident, that in turn, brings me happiness.  Healthy eating a la Maya clinic works,  juicing, you should watch your weight all your life, as this too is the essence of health. I love Yoga and walking because that helps my brain. I easily get sad with bad weather, but with Justine Glenton, we walk merrily around Battersea Park in rain and storms and I feel amazing afterwards. "One step back to youth" I think, as I rush through the door.
To be overweight, eg fourteen pounds over your original weight, go on a diet. Preventative  medicine is better, but try not to put it on in the first place. With pregnancy, stress, life we easily get porky. Last night this important subject was not addressed. The right weight is essential and you will need to keep it.  Losing weight like putting it on, is bad for the skin. The menopause is tricky, so sort the problem before it happens and start eating more vegetables, this helps the radiance of your skin. I know I have experimented with them. Think differently at least you won't get the curse every month. What a relief.
As for surgery and botox, fillers and creams, I believe in them all. However I do not like fillers for my face. I am allergic to the products, so be careful. As for a face lift, my surgeon Dr Berard, actually improved my face with a neck lift, (half a face lift) I know he did, and since then my life has changed for the better.
 Doctors and experts shroud the whole subject with mystery. There is no mystery. Just look in the mirror, or with a girlfriend, who is honest?.  Creams only work on the surface, they cannot penetrate, but they improve the texture and under make up, look great. They are necessary. Make up too. I use Emma O'byrne. She is brilliant, but most people will not be able to afford an artist. You can sneak a makeover on the makeup counters in most department stores. Also No7 is brilliant and I often use their products. Older skin needs more make up but very carefully applied. Also good hair is important.  Use products that suit your hair and make it feel good. Have a blow dry occasionally, they are opening bars all over the place. This improves your mood.
If you have a double chin, and skin under it looking like a vagina and your neck looks sagging, I would rather have a scar round my ears than walk around like that. Be careful who your surgeon is, you must get on.  I like to use French surgeons, they love women. I like French Doctors. Dr Sister and  Dr Sebagh are total experts. Of course you have to be careful when having surgery about hospital bugs, they are a worry, but to me it is worth the risk.
The fact is that we no are all living singular lives and I personally need to feel alive, so I would rather get as much out of life as possible. I notice with children, they ignore me, but when I put on my red lipstick, become a character, they all want to be with me. It is the same with a job. I was walking along in Los Angeles and I was offered a job as a Fashion Editor at the age of 48, because I remembered my grandmothers words, to always make an effort.
I had a body lift last year by the great Dr Perlman. I can at the age of 52 wear smaller clothes, and although I do not look great in the nude, I never did. So I now have a waist and I have achieved an old Hollywood star look, which is fun. 
My advice is experiment with clothes, experiment with make up, experiment. Be brave and enjoy your life. Go for it, and don't let some politically correct green woman stop you from trying a little Botox. It might get you a cheeky grin in a lift. Life is not a rehearsal.  

Monday, 26 November 2012


I often think about my funeral, I want a Gospel choir singing, six black shiny horses, a glass coffin, a hat by Phillip Treacy. There should be stylists for funerals. I want a camp old thing.
Top hats, guests crying with white handkerchiefs, professional mourners.  Violinists playing. On my tomb, a recording where you could here me speak, like they have in Los Angeles. It is not about ego. I am not more important than anybody else. I just would like my friends to celebrate my life.  I do not want a quiet affair. I shall enter a Cathedral, may be actually Bath Abbey to Queen Mary's Funeral March, by Purcell, where I used to sing as a child. I would like the music of my Grandfather's last film in Endless Night, based on Blakes poem
Every Night and every Morn
Some to misery are born
Every Morn and every Night
Some are born to sweet delight
Some are born to Endless night
written by Bernard Herrmann.
I do not care about being cremated if only I knew my bones and skin were not mingled with someone else's. I hate that idea.  So I shall go for being buried and arrange a tomb for my family. Where my bones will hopefully lie in one piece, tidily and silently. Without disturbance. 
There are tombs that have been left for sale all over the place and Elvis Presley's tomb has been up for sale at a healthy price. I still want the privacy of being with those that I truly love and so want one built especially for them.

"Tout L'Amour"- Jeanne Marine @ Roger Vivier

Friday, 23 November 2012


I was walking down Oxford Street after a very successful interview this week, where I was offered a job, an interesting one too. Until I sign on the dotted line I would rather not share my luck, as you well know the minute you divulge something important, something happens.  Anyway I walked along crowded rainy, thousands of unhappy people, full of noise with their heads down. The human being has become a virus, me included. Too many, too unhappy, we are forgetting the important things in life. 

Last night I went to a party given by the Woodland Trust and Aspreys. Wonderful jewellery was designed by Sean Leane. acorns, berries, leaves gooseberries and twigs intricately made, reminding me of the importance of nature. I have always supported the Woodland Trust. Whether you do or not, please think about planting The Ash Tree.  In the next ten years something like 80 million will die out. The Woodland Trust believed that they did well this year by planting 8 million trees. They did not. The reality is desperate and mostly we humans are the cause of it. Trampling the earth as we do, not caring enough about what we are doing. We think very selfishly.  Soon there will be no trees too.  If two billion people were killed  it would be terrible to our egos only, but for the world of elephants, insects, leopards, lions, trees, fish and every other living creature it would be a blessed relief. In my opinion we should be only allowed to have two children each at the most.

 Unfortunately it did not work with China, and people think in their own Island. The welfare state in this country is shockingly abused and I am totally fed up with political correctness. I think I mentioned this before. It is enough. There are already huge problems. Humans are ghastly. Of course individuals have character and we can have fun, but look at us, we are truly awful.  

Tuesday, 20 November 2012

Gigi - She's not thinking of me with lyrics

Gigi's decision


In the pouring rain you can certainly have fun, it was splendid as my friends greedily consumed industrial amounts of cream cake and home made jam. Will I regret it?, no, I had not put on an ounce in several years. The dietician weighed me back to front and congratulated me.  What a happy day it was. I thought he was trying to make me feel better, but no I am still less than I was ten years ago. It was very good to see so much intelligence and glamour.  Elegance is something that is rare. These girls all had etiquette and are loyal.  One of my paid friends thought all my friends were paid for. I did not have the heart to tell him that he was one of the charity cases. 
It is so funny moving from Paris, you find tiny little presents that you had forgotten about, little hair pins, and tiny hearts, Moving from anywhere is a strange experience. You open up drawers that you firmly had closed. The tea today was just what I needed to feel alive in the rain. I also miss my friend Boris who has taught me so much. No fighting after 6pm, no fighting in the morning as it ruins the day, and none on Sundays, I miss his wisdom. Back soon though to do my music. Good thing is though I will be able to wrestle with Peter in the New Year.  

Monday, 19 November 2012


This week end I decided to stay in. It is a rarity. I actually like to be out or in another country. To feel the air against my cheeks. However this time I went on to You Tube to check an old film that I felt changed my life. A film and book that taught me all I needed to know when I was young. A film by Bryan Forbes called The L shaped room based in a book by Lynne Reid Banks. Who wrote about 40 books, lived in a Kibbutz and was one of the first women on Television. She trained as an actress and became a writer.

I watched it with my friend Tim Willis, and we both agreed that it must have shocked the world when it came out in 1962. The story of a French woman played by Leslie Caron who was pregnant and living in a boarding house for seven months in Nottinghill Gate. She is pregnant. With no intention of living with the babies father, she strikes up interesting and moving friendships with the unusual occupants of the boarding house. Beautifully shot it is probably one of the most ravishing black and white films I have seen.  I tried watching other films after seeing it and I could not, they just were not as good. John Osbourne's Look back in Anger, a shouting match, seemed irritating.  No the L shaped room, although almost a silent movie,  in the silence saying so much. It had an impact on my youth. It taught me about different cultures, ideas and that all were acceptable. Leslie Caron's moving performance won her a BAFTA, a globe and she was even nominated for an Academy Award for her performance. I remember often being interviewed for magazines and was asked what book I liked the most I would say the L shaped room. Actually not remembering any of it. I just remember being lulled into thinking it had a Nietzsche quality to it. Bryan Forbes was educated at RADA. In this particular case, he is a truly magnificent film maker.  I don't know why he didn't make more?.  However we can be grateful for Colditz, The Railway Children and Whistle down the Wind. Still alive I believe he runs a book shop. 


The exciting new website of Genlux Magazine is inspiring. I am proud to be working here.

Sunday, 18 November 2012


I went to a youth convention this week end.  I was there to discuss  my photography.  In the corner, I overheard a conversation about porn on the internet.  The boys were saying that porn was better and cheaper than taking a girl out for dinner. They were often given a huge head ache by the women in their lives. They feel shame about wanting sex. In any case they said they had to pay for everything, and at the end of it, not so much as a cuddle.  They were all about 25, good looking and all complaining.  Men are as we know programmed to have sex with as many partners as possible, to procreate. The advice I was given, was to watch sites on line which were easier and as good as making love.
I am an appalling romantic. When I was very young there was nothing better than walking the streets of London holding hands, sharing a coffee, laughing over a film, and falling into bed kissing. I asked them about the sites without looking too interested, they were sniggering, but one boy was helpful. I told him I was going to do an article about it and he showed me the sites on his I phone. I felt I was completely out of  touch. I knew it existed, but its only when you watch it that you  really understand how big the world is.
I got back home and turned on the screen to a couple of sites. I immediately understood, if I were a man I would probably do the same. The girls were live, pretty, perfect, porn stars, looking as if they were in the comfort of their bedroom. The photographs explicit, very real and with a nothing left to the imagination.  Men could imagine making out with her and probably prefer it to taking out someone they know. For very little cost you could see a more pornographic show in the privacy of your bedroom, more exotic than Thailand. The girls can chat with you.  You can become friends with them. All alive in a brash, crazy way. Rather like a pornographic Facebook.
Lonely men  and women could imagine being in love with them. In fact the sites were for both sexes and there are as many women as men watching them.
However there is a downside of course,  Internet porn is killing mens libido causing erectile dysfunction so a report on you tube  by Gary Wilson says. 
They do not teach people to communicate normally . In some cases men are finding it difficult to make love with real women because they find the net less complicated, the real girls in the their life not as attractive and nothing excites them. Men naturally want to have sex with many women as possible and women want men to be faithful. Women go out of their way to be as manipulative as possible while reading self help books. They know what a man needs is an uncomplicated physical seeing to, but they want marriage and children. We are programmed differently.
If you want to see more of me, I hate to bore you but I do not have that kind of website, you will have to hold my hand and bring me a rose.  I shall keep to the past and hold hands with my real life heroes and look forward to naturally being attracted to someone in a normal way. So boys if you wish to be turned on, turn off the porn and feel the real. 

Jean Nouvel: 100 11th Street New York

Friday, 16 November 2012

CALDARA - Castrato Ariak - JAROUSSKY.avi

The Promise. Musica: Debbie Wiseman

GIVE THE KEYS AWAY PARIS and say goodbye to the ghost of TAMARA DE LEMPICKA

I remember my great friend Minal Modi once giving me a book called Your word is your wand by Florence Shinn, written in the 1920's. I treasured this book. I loved the idea when my hopes were young that anything I could think of could come true. I used it. Another piece of wisdom she gave me was "Falling in love is terribly common" I wish I had listened to her. I love the feeling, addicted to the pain and passion of life.  Next week I am selling one of the most romantic places in the whole world. My artist studio in Paris 7 Rue Mechain, Montparnasse. Once the artist studio of Tamara de Lempicka and built by the architect Mallet Stevens. I dreamed of living there, gently tortured by the men in my life.  I bought it and decorated it. It was full of original furniture by designers like Prouvet and  Adrienne Gorska her sister. It had a magical, haunted feel to it, as if Tamara watched over me. I had to move there because I once met a man on a train on the Eurostar when it first opened. It seems an age ago, yet at the same time seconds ago.  I had had a terrible argument with my ex husband and an ex boyfriend at the same time. I wanted to leave both.  On the train I fell in love with a wonderful man passionate, aloof and terribly difficult to get to know. So tall, tall in spirit. I had beautiful rose tinted glasses on.  Actually only today I realise how important this romance is for me. It made me grow up, and as I hand over the keys next week, I hand them over with love.  Paris is the most incredible city in the world. The florists, the hairdressers, the cobbled streets, the love affairs, the tiny cakes, the history and the clothes. I am enthralled with everything about it. However, I am English and to move from the city of London would be tricky, my sons sort of liked Paris, but only sort of. My younger edgy and complicated son teased me and said "Thank goodness you took me there so often, my first essay at Eton was about Paris, and I was able to write something"
The apartment contained three flats, it was like a house with a lift. One very hot day I got trapped in the lift with my lover, it stopped for a good twenty minutes. Terrifying. So I sold of two flats. Now the last and most incredible, is out of my life next week. Like the leaves of the tree turning brown, I must leave the most romantic and incredible time of my life, and give this charming and unusual apartment to someone else. We do not keep everything forever and some things are not kitchen sink drama, and meant for dust and lost in wind. I wish every bit of luck to the new woman living there and hope she makes wonderful passionate love there as I did.  I hope she meets a dark stranger in lifts and coffee shops and is kissed on the neck for five minutes at the Trocadero, because this man I will never forget, and will always love, no matter what. It does not matter if I see him, because, being so very romantic, in my soul, he was the only one that mattered. Other people come and go of course, with varying degrees. So aurevoir beautiful paradise and I will keep the memories which cannot be taken away. As Genghis Khan said"It not how many breaths you take, but the moments that take your breath away" 

Tous les Soleils - Fin

Debbie Wiseman - Wilde Suite

Wednesday, 14 November 2012


Life is good.  Calm, merry and interesting. The more positive I feel the better it becomes. I learnt long ago from fairy tales and drama school, that it was the best way to be.
 I went to Annabels, the nightclub in Berkeley Square, to listen to Nicky Haslam sing my favourite 1940-s numbers.  Nick Rhodes, Gary Kemp, Cilla Black and Bob Geldof were sitting with me in the front row. Bob's girlfriend Jeanne Marine  looked pretty, dancing in time as they all clapped and stamped their feet. Nicky went from number to number.  What I like best about my wonderful friend, is that he wishes to get the most out of life. Whatever happens, he participates and squeezes every second out of it.  Totally fabulous. I laughed and sang, not wanting to leave. In fact I could have stayed until the sun popped up, leaving the tired moon to sleep. I can't wait to listen to his new Album, Total Control as I am singing in it right at the end, in fact all his friends are.


I was also surprised and elated to be taken  to see the latest Dreamworks film "The Rise of Guardians", directed by Peter Ramsey, by a friend from Soundology, the composer Nainita Desai. Despite it being yet another children's film. I was totally enthralled. A wonderful film for children, teaching them that positive thought and cheerfulness gets you everywhere. With the cast of Chris Pine, Alec Baldwin, Hugh Jackman, Isla Fisher and Jude Law you cannot go wrong.   Light, happy and beautifully directed with incredible music. Beautiful to look at.  You get lost in the hurly burly of Jack Frost, Father Christmas, The Sandman, Easter Bunny and The adorable Tooth Fairy. If you are between 8-12 which I am, you will feel happy that these characters actually exist.  You are taken into caves, over window tops, fighting a greyhound and painting Easter eggs, collecting teeth etc. Well directed, with an exceptional score by the charismatic composer Alexandre Desplat. This man never stops working and his music suits this enchanting  story. Finally there is a huge bonus being able to listen to Renee Fleming, her beautiful voice singing "Still Dream" just added to the whole 3D digital experience.
Nicky Haslam clearly benefited from  happy childhood stories. It has carried him through his successful and interesting life, and a lesson to us all. Clearly he too was touched by the positive Tooth Fairy, I too did not want my dreams bashed.

RISE OF THE GUARDIANS - International English Trailer

Monday, 12 November 2012

Mir ist so wunderbar


Do you dump or do you allow an emotional pernicious emotional vampire to continue in your life?. Is there an elegant way of offering them the door without being too vulgar? You have to make them understand that they have leached on to your life too long.  Do you keep someone on, who herds you into paying for their dull life,  keeping you in box?. Vampires do not want you when there is no blood left. You are just a convenient snack.  When you are all empty they blame you for being empty.  A man could take your best years and when you are an old crone,  dump you. Girl friends can sap everything from you.  They have a war strategy.  They bought that jacket first, the designer was their friend and everybody must look up to them.  They like to patronise too much without giving very much in return.   Vampires aim to look like your friend,  while checking out your handbag and leaving the table instead of paying a bill. You introduce them to a friend, and then they make that friend hostile towards you. The worse thing they do is patronise you to the people you helped them with. They don't see people as friends, they see them as a subjects to their semi royal throne. They talk about themselves only, and in the past, present and future with selective amnesia, and fabrication from a tardis zig zagging the truth altering their time line to make it credible. Ordinary drab has beens, holding court at a table that could do with a bit more money on it, and a throne that could do with a lot less poundage on it. Does one continue to have them around us? Do we continue to allow these sponges to absorb our lives, or is there no other way but to tell them to fuck off. 
I have seen people who go to parties, and the hostess has made a huge effort, only for her guests to say "Oh the food is cold, and I could have done it better" I have had to suffer this treatment many times and the answer is don't come, which also saves me from saying fuck off.Be careful who you decry because you never know whose turn it is next.

Sunday, 11 November 2012

David Hasselhoff & Kym Johnson Cha Cha


I read yesterday that babies born now are likely to live until 125 years old. Yikes what a terrible thought.  As humans have become like rats on this planet, digging, taking from it, and squeezing it, I think the thought is repellent.  I am not against looking younger, I am against looking older. What is the point of living to a great age, when you cannot run, swim, play the piano, read, write or laugh with friends?  I think medicine has become a danger to the planet.  I personally shall eat healthily, exercise, write, keep my brain as alive as possible, use botox, contribute to society in whatever way I can, but not prolong my life simply for the ego of living a long time. I feel we should bow down gracefully and let another generation live to fuck it all up, and love the planet, all over again.
Medicine is an amazing thing. It has cured many of my friends who may have died early.  I love it for that, for allowing youth to get off the starting point. To cure old age, and have a terrible standard of living would not be attractive to me.  Old age is not revered or looked after. To be shoved in a home is cruelty. I am glad my parents died before this became a necessity, albeit I miss them.


On a more cheerful note. I had fun getting ready for the    David Furnish Party for Aids, sponsored by Grey Goose Vodka and fully supported by Kevin Spacey. The party was set in Battersea Power station and turned into the South of France. Orange checked table cloths with orange and white flowers.
 Columns and pool tables it felt like the real thing. With not a bad table, the place was packed with the sassy and brassy. David Hasselhoff and Tamara Ecclestone were there with my favourite dress designer, the charming Gareth Pugh. (I am receiving a stunning coat of his on Monday hopefully) It was full of life and laughter. I wore my new Agent Provocateur black corset dress,  inspired obviously by Dior in the 1950's,with red satin down the back. Jewellery from Erickson and Beamon and my fur coat from Rick Owens.  The room was full of new glamour.  I looked round the room and with friends and realised that a whole new generation was taking over. New pop groups, new ways of dressing, new thoughts, new socialites.  The fact is that close your eyes and open them again you will see everything in a different way. Bob Marley was not playing to the house, but a new band. Marley obviously died years ago and most of his generation have sadly gone the same way. It is nature. It is wonderful, and quite frankly unless we have a guarantee of looking 35 for the rest of our lives, 125 years old is greedy and revoltingly unattractive.  I wonder if Elton and David's next baby will live to this terrible age?

Saturday, 10 November 2012


It is the time of year when invitations pour through the postbox, and, help I am I think about 6pounds too fat.. I hate to be a bore, here I go again. As I said before, I threw away my scales, and hope the fear of being huge would leave me. It does not. Fat feels it is escaping everywhere. So I shall visit my old friend Dr Fine next week.  I went to visit another good fat doctor just now in Westbourne Grove. Dr Sister.  In a funky mews off this fashionable place, convenient and pleasant.  I went with a friend whose wrinkles were grooves on his face. A good face but full of trauma caused by past misdemeanours.  He wanted to try the Dracula treatment, where you take blood out of you, whisk it around, and put it back into your face, giving a more youthful look. I shall wait and see. It definitely made sense. Dr Sister is an old friend, who I trust. He had some brilliant diet pills which made me skinny, and now has youth pills. All sounds good.  I shall rush off next week and hopefully look svelte and gorgeous, feeling refreshed very soon.  I love my tattoo by the way.

Friday, 9 November 2012


I have had many a mid life crisis thank goodness, but now having read Tattoos were common, in High 50, I decided to have a butterfly printed on my arm.  I went quietly along to Frith Street Tattoos at 18 Frith Street, to a trendy basement with charming Italians and gratefully put at ease. Thank goodness the crisis is back. It was quick, fun, painless, easy and very addictive. I now want a gun on my other arm.  It also takes ten years off my motherly arms. So quite a few benefits. I was wondering if I could have a six pack on my stomach done to hide middle age.  I am also wondering if I can hide my bingo wings with a little artistic flare.  From a child I was accused of being a social butterfly, and by a lover who was precious to me, I was called "B" for yes, yet a again, being a butterfly. Because of this, most artistic projects have had the beautiful creature attached to each idea. A butterfly is who I am. Colourful, happy, lightly landing and quick to leave.  Boris is sadly fading on my back, and incase he grows tired of me, it won't be replaced.  I cannot put all my eggs in one basket.

Well not yet anyway....
I was invited to a ladies lunch at Missoni's yesterday in Sloane Street. A grand lunch with added bonuses,  hair by the lovely Snowden Hill. Eyebrows and a full styling service all available. A brilliant idea by Tamara Beckwith who looked slinky and sexy in Missoni gear.  Of course I liked the leather jacket in red, black and pink, sadly not in my size due to over eating in Thailand, it only just fitted.  Heaven knows what I weigh as the scales are firmly hidden these days.  I just have to slip into a corset or two to see if they fit. I was becoming obsessed and far too boring about it. My weight effected my daily mood.  I would rather run round the park with Justine Glenton and assume her slenderness.

Wednesday, 7 November 2012


ART ISSUEYassi Mazandi


Memory lane is a funny place to visit. Wonderful and sad in equal portions. I have spent the last three weeks filming and visiting many things that I did in the past.  My memory is good on unimportant things.  I had to be reminded who I had to stay at the Amanpuri at Christmas, or who I entertained for week ends at the Amanjena, things in my life had been taken for granted. I had to ask the housekeepers for details.

There was one scene at the Paris airport at the start of the trip, with Thai Airways when I arrived with seven suitcases. I thought I would only have to pay an extra three hundred pounds, not at all more like three thousand pounds. I thought I could not pack enough clothes into one suitcase, but Boris my saviour managed to change my brain and persuade me it was the right thing to do. With my lacy Agent Provocateur underwear in view of the ground staff from Thai Airways,  I repacked one case with all that was needed for the trip. It of course lacked imagination. Next time I will remember the trick. It was so much easier getting around. 

Luckily I have never had so much laughter with any man, in my life, as I did with my friend. He was incredible company and relaxed too. Looking back at Thailand I see Patong has become like Hollywood. They like the same things, hookers, celebrity, facials and Botox. I was surprised. 


I was slightly ashamed when I arrived in New York wearing my Rick Owens dearly loved mink coat. Normally I am anti fur but it is difficult to resist a coat from Rick. Beautifully cut and warm when all the heating was off at the Plaza Hotel.  Apologies all round to the anti's they are right. I bumped into my old friend Cornelia Guest at the restaurant in Bergdorf Goodman's yesterday, and immediately felt ashamed. However with no hot water and the freezing cold it served me well during this war zone in New York. 

Sunday, 4 November 2012


Spent twenty hours flying from Phuket to New York for my son Charles's Graduation concert. Off course all was cancelled  due to hurricane Sandy, but never mind I am here and it is bright sunshine in New York.  The journey to New York was incredibly comfortable, although long on Cathay Pacific. Boy am I tired. Before I left the idyllic  Tresara hotel I did a truly fun shoot with a cake and a gun. I would like to be Lara Croft in another lifetime.  I think I would love to be a spy, it must come from my genes. My Father, Anthony Cave Brown was meant to be one, although I am not sure. He wrote and was obsessed by spies writing about them in books. My favourite one is a book called a Body Guard of Lies.  In any case I felt the part with my cake and a gun...With the New York Marathon cancelled,  there are loads of frustrated runners outside the Plaza. They should have kept on with it and done it in aid of the survivors and people who lost their houses...

Thursday, 1 November 2012

Why does rain give me such appalling depression and create destruction in my life?.  It just does even though  in Thailand, it  gives me time to think about slitting my wrists, rather than going to the kitchen and getting a knife out.  Yesterday it fell heavily in time to saying goodbye to my past life and changing my new one. I moved from the Amanpuri, the gentle paradise, and part of my life with my ex husband. Beautiful serene and with some very good memories.  I am now at the Tresara Hotel run by the Amanpuri's former manager, Anthony Lark. Comfortable and luxurious it is a most special and wonderful hotel indeed.  A mans hotel.  Everything works and it feels perfect for the Japanese and American perfectionist.  
The rain falls on the swimming pool heavily as I feel like entering my coffin, a full moon and halloween.  I am thinking about the poor people of New York and wondering whether as the ice caps melt , the water levels rise, that the vision I once had of this capital being under water, actually happens?.  I would like my son to leave it immediately but he is doing his graduation soon from Mannes College of Music, part of New College, and I must support him to the end of it.  Europe is a tricky place for a budding opera singer, and a university degree in Music is frowned upon. What a culture we live in where the arts are neglected in favour of a business degree? I am so proud of my son Charles who follows his dreams.  He  follows in the family tradition. My grandmother was a concert pianist, my mother an opera singer, Charles's grandfather a pianist and a doctor, and his sister a concert pianist. My other son sounds like Frank Sinatra, if only he would let anybody listen.  I am the only lucky one to know he has ability.
Now I am going to finish filming in Thailand the documentary part.