Week ending 28th November 2010.
Music is always important to blast whilst blogging. Currently Depeche Mode's greatest hits on the ghetto - back to many years of teenage excitement. Often newer cool stuff, Patrick Wolf - the genius, M.I.A. Muse, Tinie Tempah or the fabulous Lady Gaga. Certainly not Justin Beiber - who the hell is he anyway? Am embarrassed not to be 'down with the kids' on this one, especially as JB is the most googled, tweeted of them all, alas he has completely passed me by until I've just seen the paedos favourite pop star looking like a teenage lesbian on X Factor. Other favourites, Classical if in the mood, Faure & Mozart's Requiems a favourite and the BBC iplayer a terrific invention to catch up on missed programmes, radio - especially The Archers omnibus, Desert Island Discs and Private Passions - all great whilst in the kitchen cooking.
Whilst you are turning your much loved pasta supper dish into something Locanda Locatelli would be proud of, check out the brilliant and talented Polly Samson whilst you are washing up or pottering paying yet more bills: http://www.bbc.co.uk/iplayer/episode/b00w15ys/Twenty_Minutes_Barcarolle Polly tweeted me to say that she thought that Rory Kinnear was overdoing it rather, turning her lovely Anna into Widow Twanky. However, he is currently at The National giving it all for Hamlet so maybe he was on a Shakespearean theme and decided to give reading this short story from her collection Perfect Lives a bit of extra welly.
Surviving the annual company Christmas party is an act of endurance in itself. I do wonder if it was indeed an act of genius, a special austerity gesture with an extra nod to our chums over the choppy Irish sea or more possibly the administration of general company chaos, that it would befall itself in the middle of November?! An opportunity to dance around with a non vintage glass of something in ones hand and shake a leg with the entourage of London sales people giving it their all as though dancing to close the deal of the century.
And so to Picadilly on a frightfully cold morning to check-in to The Wolseley for mid-week breakfast. For a person tied to the SW's for most of the working week, it was such a treat to escape on a day off to breakfast at the wonderful Venetian and Florentine inspired space that was in its previous incarnation in 1921, the Wolseley Motors car showroom. The Wolseley cars were displayed on the marble floor and cost between £225-£1,300. Unfortunately, the cars did not sell well enough and by 1926 the company was bankrupt.
It was the first time I had power breakfasted there a la AA Gill, usually limiting to meet friends for brunch, lunch or dinner at weekends after or before a trip to Dover Street Market (Rose Bakery cafe on the top floor great for afternoon tea and a sit down) or an exhibition at The Royal Academy - note to self haven't been there for a while can't remember what is on currently. Absolutely packed cheek to jowl, with Nigella enjoying TWO boiled eggs and soldiers in the Salon part of the restaurant with a girlfriend and the chap who sorry can't remember his name, but the one with less hair from Masterchef, having a pow wow with male friends close to the entrance. It was a fun atmosphere, close to being my favourite breakfast/brunch place in London (pipped by Bistrotheque my ultimate favourite it has to be said) and just the thing in sub zero temperatures and biting wind to fortitude ourselves before Christmas shopping in Burlington Arcade.
So onto something rather less salubrious and that I could not quite comprehend and keep thinking about with wonder. Going to the local newly refurbished mall is one of life's musts now and again to find out what people are reading, wearing and buying. I couldn't believe my eyes as I walked to the till of Holland & Barrett with two slightly guilty yoghurt topped flapjacks and a host of vitamins that would make a hippo rattle. Well hippos it certainly was at the till. As helpful and jolly as they were, the two ladies behind the till of the well known health shop were unbelievably MORBIDLY obsese. Not just a bit chubby or having a tight waistband kind of day, but absolute mighty whoppers of the human specimen variety. I did think that whilst everyone needs and should be motivated to get a job, any job in fact in these economic times, perhaps the company should employ people that fits in slightly better with their own culture and mission statement? I left feeling rather less gluttonous than the jolly green aproned giants, until I bit into my flapjack with ecstasy and hopped into Waitrose for more treats.
Aside from above, 10 other things I read, did and encountered this week that may be of interest or may be you would prefer me to shut up and go back to reading your new Heat magazine:
1. Promise am only going to mention the Jungle fools once, worth reading:
http://www.guardian.co.uk/lifeandstyle/lostinshowbiz/2010/nov/26/gillian-mckeith-im-a-celebrity;
2. John Galliano Christmas Tree in the Claridges foyer;
3. Nicky Haslam singing Cole Porter at the stunning black and gold newly opened Beaufort Bar at The Savoy;
4. The Spectator Debate Series: America is just not into us at the Royal Geographical Society, RGS;
5. http://www.bbc.co.uk/iplayer/episode/b00wkjcr/The_Andrew_Marr_Show_28_11_2010/ 33 mins in see the fabulous Charlotte Rampling;
6. http://www.guardian.co.uk/uk/2010/nov/26/kate-middleton-conservative-style - Suzanne Moore's new column;
7. Jonathan Franzen - Freedom - first edition, with all the mistakes - collectors item via Amazon;
8. Booking Intelligence Squared new Spring Season debates - If you want fidelity - buy a dog;
9. The Wallace Collection - twice! for tea & scones with friends;
10. Selfridges, I know each and every one of your departments intimately, you have taken all my money and all I can think of is that at least I have finished the dreaded Christmas shopping before the 1st December.
Che Guevara, Berlin and the Chilean Miners...
Quite recently but not quite yesterday....
At last a chance to watch Benicio del Toro in Che Parts 1 and 2. Watching the winner of the Cannes 2008 Best Actor award as Ernesto "Che" Guevara commonly known as El Che or simply Che, the Argentine Marxist revolutionary, physician, author, intellectual, guerrilla leader, diplomat, military theorist, and major figure of the Cuban Revolution was fascinating. Particularly as the excellent weekend FT is keeping a watchful eye on Raul Castro who has repeatedly stated that the very survival of the Cuban revolution, which provides free health care, education, and subsidised housing for all its citizens, depends on economic reform. But foreign observers wonder whether they are witnessing a rerun of "perestroika", the experiment in restructuring launched by Mikhail Gorbachev in the Soviet Union in the 1980s, which was designed to preserve the communist system, but ultimately led to its downfall.
Watching Che was certainly a more exciting offering from the director Steven Soderbergh, compared to his more recent and painfully dull The Girlfriend Experience, which was seen one Sunday with friends after a delicious lunch at fave restaurant Bob Bob Ricard. Watching Che one's thoughts couldn't help but wander to the wonderful Citizen Smith starring Robert Lindsay (must remember to book Onassis theatre tickets) as "Wolfie" Smith, a young Communist "urban guerrilla" living in Tooting, South London, whose sole purpose in life is to attempt to emulate his hero Che Guevara, which was one of my favourite series when growing up in the late 70's. Wolfie is the self-proclaimed leader of the revolutionary Tooting Popular Front (merely a small bunch of his friends), the goals of which are "Power to the People" and "Freedom for Tooting". In reality, he is an unemployed dreamer and petty criminal whose plans fall through because of laziness and disorganisation.
Leaving the balmy climes of Cuba for a moment, to the ball biting temperatures of Berlin. The trip to celebrate a friends birthday started rather badly. The poor birthday girl had to wear the same outfit for 24 hours. The feeling in the pit of your stomach, when the last piece of luggage - the golf club with the silver tinsel - isn't yours. When the dodgy hoards have dragged their wears from the carousel, making sure that they hit everyone like dominoes in their wake, as they try to drag King Kong's size suitcase across your foot. The moron at the Easyjet Gatwick counter decided that it wasn't a good idea to put birthday girl's luggage (including her new Chanel shoes) on the flight tonight and the perfectly stony faced Stasi information desk confirmed this - it-will-arrive-tomorrow. Am absolutely sure he was an extra in one of my favourite film 'The Lives of Others'.
The cold air on the way to the taxi rank was met with, 'I didn't want to come to fucking Berlin anyway', as the rest of the group proudly carried and wheeled their Mulberry luggage towards the waiting Turkish taxi driver. Once in Berlin however, we found after less than 24 hours that we DID want to be in fucking Berlin and a different history of revolution and intrigue following on from Che, Hitler and everyone else who thought that they could have a go.
A week here would be too short, with amazing bars (Newton Bar) and restaurants (Remake and Grill Royal to name but a few), club (well not into those anymore - we went to 40 Seconds and was about how long we stayed), culture coming out of our ears, a better selection of boots at Gucci on the Friedrichstraße than in London and the most comfortable beds in the world at the new Soho House Berlin. Germany had certainly come a long way from the school exchange when I survived on pumpernickel and lager tainted breath snogs from the army chap met on the Harwich to Hamburg ferry.
As though spending 69 days underground wasn't enought, Edison Pena, one of the Chilean miners, completed the New York City marathon in 5 hours and 40 minutes with no previous training. Pena, known as “the runner” because he ran around in the confines of the miners’ underground shelter, was invited by organisers to watch the iconic marathon. However, simply watching as a special guest was not enough for Pena; he wanted to compete. What drives a person to push themselves to the limit? How can we motivate the long term unemployed to take pride in their lives again? Apparently Diane Abbott has the answers, but I'm not so sure. Do we need another July 26 revolution to move people emotionally and physically?
Whilst we ponder on the philosophical nature of these questions, we can only put down George Bush and Tony Blair's tomes to await the far more humanly interesting tale of the Chilean miners, their survival, their families and their extra marital affairs.
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