Christmas 2010.
It was the night before Christmas and all through the house, not a creature was stirring not even a..... well hopefully not even a mouse, as the damn washing machine blew up and there was a whole other world lingering behind it when heaved out of its position in Herculean style. 'More expense' I sighed, which is often the first thing I think of when someone announces they are getting engaged/married, as the likelihood of your Conran pasta dish carefully wrapped pressie being smashed over the spouses head is nigh on predictable these days. Well never mind, Peter Jones will do well out of me for a new washer dryer after six years of non stop action with the previous incarnation. And with that, the door slammed to brave the sub zero temperatures for a trip to Matthew Bourne's revised Cinderella set in the period of the 1940's London Blitz, followed by a Christmas Eve drink at The Savoy.
The cold snap was a topic of conversation for most of December. Why had the bitter winds and snow felled in London and created chaos at Heathrow so early in the winter, when we all know that February and March are usually the cruellest months? Was it indeed a case of global warming and George Monbiot was right all along? Or was it simply just a chilly cold snap and we should be completely unpeturbed by global warming propoganda in the style of the hyped Y2K bug so says Christopher Monckton. Certainly waste, pollution and vast materialism should be questioned throughout the world. It is interesting that the US contribute to huge amounts of methane gas from their cattle in the atmosphere - have you seen the size of their steaks? An average restaurant serving would feed a British family of four for a week. Pollution is at stratospheric levels - just watch the news. Any reporter standing with their microphone with Beijing in the background can hardly see 10 feet behind them for the smog. I know that I can hardly breathe east of Vienna.
However, is it because it is unthinkable and certainly unfashionable to question whether the world is really going through one of its cycles, rather than global warming asuch? There is so much information on the subject and debates which I have been in the audience of, listening to incredibly interesting and intelligent speakers that sitting on the fence isn't such a bad option. Even curvy Nigella's father, Nigel Lawson wrote a book on the subject. In 2008, Lawson published a book expanding on his 2006 lecture to the Centre for Policy Studies, An Appeal to Reason: A Cool Look at Global Warming. He argues the case that, although global warming is happening and will have negative consequences, the impact of these changes will be relatively moderate rather than apocalyptic. He criticises those "alarmist" politicians and scientists who predict catastrophe unless urgent action is taken. The book has, in its turn, been criticised by several climatologists.
The rather fabulous James Lovelock - now a national institution, somebody I share a birthday with and one of Vivienne Westwood's favourites, is best known for proposing the Gaia hypothesis, which postulates that the biosphere is a self-regulating entity with the capacity to keep our planet healthy by controlling the chemical and physical environment. James Delingpole writing in The Telegraph, The Spectator, on his own website & on radio around the world, spends absolute hours on denying climate change and the scientific evidence that proves it. One to keep mulling over I think, however, this is obviously the light-weights answer to a much bigger and not going away question.
So to the January Sales, even though it is not quite January. You know you are getting old when you say that they come around sooner every year. Selfridges on Boxing Day and Peter Jones & Bond Street the following, after a delicious and much civilised lunch with my mother at the Wolseley of course. Needless to say, as it was the first day of sale for the aforementioned stores, they were rammed. We were fashionably kettled by extra security and it was fascinating to see a lot of Chinese and Japanese people in droves buying everything on the rails. In fact, in the drama, I wrestled one to the ground in the 2nd floor Maxmara section of what I thought to be the sole remaining grey coat, until I realised that the woman being assaulted by me was actually three sizes smaller than me and so was the coat!
Good buys: Joseph, Tory Birch (although the New Bond Street shop prices are at higher discounts than in the shop with the yellow bags), DvF and some of the designers in the new shoe hall. It was madness, roped off sections of Jimmy Choo and Gucci with huge queues that I refused to join. A couple of hours of that was enough for any ones nerves and pocket and back to the confines of the apartment with the new washer dryer being delivered at the end of January. In the meantime, am making my own version of Tracey Emin's bed in the corner of the bedroom.
This is the time of year, when newspapers and news programmes look back at who we lost to the spirit in the sky in the past year. The person I am most sad in this world loosing is Sebastian Horsley. Sebastian born in 1962, died in June this year of a heroin and cocaine ovedose which was an accident. Tragically his one-man play, Dandy in the Underworld, to which I took about 8 friends to, opened at the Soho Theatre only one day prior to his death. The role of Horsley (the sole character in the play) was performed by the excellent Milo Twomey, although it would have been the performance of a lifetime if Sebastian had played himself. Some say Sebastian had been very upset of the death of his friend Michael Wojas who had run the Colony Club and who had died of cancer the week before. Two huge Soho losses within a matter of weeks. Soho would never really be the same again.
I had met him numerous times at parties, with his publisher who is a friend of mine and at an intimate soiree at Home House, candle lit with everyone lying decadantly on the comfortable sofas, listening to Sebastian's very clever and filthy mouth. A poem as always about his art, his crucifixion in the Philippines, his drug addiction, sex and his reliance on prostitues. His friend, the journalist Toby Young, said he believed Horsley's death was an accident: "If it had been suicide Sebastian would not have passed up the opportunity to write a note. It's a tragic loss of life." In an interview in April 2008, Horsley romanticised dying "destitute in the arms of a prostitute," though not immediately dying "if that's alright with you."
If you get a chance to read his autobiography, 'Dandy In the Underworld' please do, how can a book not be a masterpiece that begins, 'Hurtling towards the earth, in 1962 I exploded on Hull. I was so appalled I couldn't talk for two years.' He signed my copy with his usual wit: 'Dear Joanna, Well darling, do remember to read with one hand.... I am good between the covers of this book, but better between the sheets. 7 Meard St, Soho. Sebastian xxx' I will treasure my copy implicitly. Or explicitly as he would of course have preferred.
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 you can go back to reading your new Heat magazine:
1. So was Upstairs Downstairs better than Downton Abbey? she doesn't think so: http://www.guardian.co.uk/profile/vivgroskop?INTCMP=SRCH
2. Actor of the year by a mile was Benedict Cumberbatch, one minute Sherlock Holmes the next Vincent van Gogh! have already booked tickets to see him and Jonny Lee Miller at the National in February in Frankenstein - they will alternate the roles of Frankenstein and the creature: http://www.nationaltheatre.org.uk/62808/productions/frankenstein.html;
3. Paul the psychic octopus might have died, however, film, book and toy rights are in negotiations, Olympics conversation for the low brow and those just too exhausted after talking of the mertis and work of Ai Weiwei !
4. Kiss my double dip recession - 2011 is going to be made of sterner stuff;
5. However, austerity measures are not all but a distant memory, even in wealthy K&C, there was not a speck of grit in sight during the snow phase, experiencing the spatchcock Coalitions cuts first hand;
6. Watching the UK version of The Social Network - in Old Street - 'Silicon Roundabout', mark my words the future is being built right there;
7. Cherie Blair selling Tony's signature for £10 on e-bay! I queued for Peter Mandelsohn's signature at Hatchards on the 1st day of release of The Third Man, Tony's memoirs were bundled into my Sainsbury's trolley at half price, that's positioning for you;
8. Loving Miranda - the BBC sleeper hit of the year;
9. Not quite understanding the students revolt hysteria, students have always been revolting, nothing can beat The Young Ones;
10. Happy New Year!! Where will you be celebrating? or will you be having an early night.........
Locanda Locatelli, The Special Relationship & X Factor Hysteria...
Mid-December 2010.
Nothing beats the feeling of breezing jauntily past the hassled crowds jangling their Christmas shopping nerves into a state of frenzy, than stepping into the sublime tranquility and elegance of a fabulous restaurant moments before Christmas. And so the hot choice on a freezing day to the wonderful Michelin starred Locanda Locatelli. David Collins designed, Tony Blair's local Italian - he even chose it for his recent interview in Lunch with the FT: http://www.ft.com/cms/s/2/52385c1c-bc50-11df-8c02-00144feab49a.html#axzz187WwY2YT
Even AA Gill liked the place which really is in itself a rarity, hardly ever do you see a favourable review from Adrian: http://www.locandalocatelli.com/web/press.aspx It was interesting to see a number of women dining with each other on a Saturday afternoon, which was an interesting dynamic for the restaurant, girl power lunches even at the weekend! Which also proves, how hard we are all still working in these economic times, even in pricey and delicious restaurants.
I mentioned in last week's blog that I would write further on the so called American-Anglo Special Relationship of which so much is written about in the media and whether it does indeed exist. Churchill popped up at the Spectator debate entitled 'America is just not into us - discuss'. James Crabtree, the Financial Times’s comment editor, deplored the way our war leader’s bust had been ‘removed from the White House’ by an incoming Barack Obama. It marked the terminal point in a relationship that once shaped world events. America was looking east. Obama had pledged to run ‘a Pacific presidency’. Crabtree repeated Helmut Schmidt’s gag about our alliance with the Americans, ‘a relationship so special that only one side knows it exists’.
So after what seemed like half a lifetime and excuses why not to go out like normal people on a Saturday night, the X Factor Final came upon us. Was it really worth the wait. Well indeed it was, if only to see Rhianna, Christina Aguilera and Take That completely upstage the contestants during their duets. Poor Matt bit his hand as Rhianna prowled onto the stage and ended with a semi, Rebecca was dumbstruck and stared at the floor, even completely mute at one point, in which was supposed to be a singing competition and One Erection (between the lot of them), sorry One Direction pretended they were best mates with Robbie Williams who was as wired as anyone on 10 double expressos. The only 'star' amongst them was the much maligned Cher Lloyd who took to the stage with Will.i.Am with gusto and was probably the only person who didn't bat an eyelid at his necklace, Will looked liked he had got into a fight with a Nintendo. The daftest thing was that 5,000 people made the effort to call into the show to complain about Rhianna's dancing, when it was hands down, the highlight of the whole series.
People do seem to worry their heads about dancing being obscene. When the most worrying fact of all which puts a bit of raunch completely in the shade, is that the future generation growing up now in the Western World will be many more times obese than their parents, because of the fact that they haven't moved around or danced at all and are only interested in eating and computer games when they are not sleeping. Perhaps Will.i.Am should have a word with them and break up their games and create a whole range of amusing necklaces and Rhianna can teach the kids to join her in some booty and daggering.
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 you can go back to reading your new Heat magazine:
1. Bernie Madoff's final victim, his son: http://www.telegraph.co.uk/finance/financetopics/bernard-madoff/8196670/Bernard-Madoffs-massive-financial-swindle-claims-its-latest-victim-as-his-son-Mark-commits-suicide.html
2. Looking forward to watching the newly dramatic reworked classic Upstairs, Downstairs starting at 9pm Boxing Day;
3. Going a bit crazy on the Net-a-porter and Matches websites, anything to avoid the madding shopping crowds;
4. Great piece in The Observer by Jemima Khan on Julian Assange, very brave of her to put her best foot forward: http://www.guardian.co.uk/commentisfree/2010/dec/11/julian-assange-jemima-khan
5. Wishing I was at the Marrakech Film Festival escaping the English winter;
6. Loving my new early Christmas pressie from a friend, Dior foundation brush, literally brush your face on every morning;
7. Haven't watched Corrie for a year, however, the tram crash was well worth it, what a drama, best line spoken by Rita: 'What is it with me and trams?';
8. Reading Rachel Johnson's 'A Diary of The Lady', hysterical;
9. Looking forward to watching The Way Back at the Barbican over Chirstmas with Colin Farrell & my favourite Hollywood actor Ed Harris;
10. Following Heston Blumenthal's recipes in the Waitrose Weekend freesheet - Lapsang Souchang Tea Smoked Salmon yum, yum. Think I will give the blow torch on the creme brulee a miss though!
Nothing beats the feeling of breezing jauntily past the hassled crowds jangling their Christmas shopping nerves into a state of frenzy, than stepping into the sublime tranquility and elegance of a fabulous restaurant moments before Christmas. And so the hot choice on a freezing day to the wonderful Michelin starred Locanda Locatelli. David Collins designed, Tony Blair's local Italian - he even chose it for his recent interview in Lunch with the FT: http://www.ft.com/cms/s/2/52385c1c-bc50-11df-8c02-00144feab49a.html#axzz187WwY2YT
Even AA Gill liked the place which really is in itself a rarity, hardly ever do you see a favourable review from Adrian: http://www.locandalocatelli.com/web/press.aspx It was interesting to see a number of women dining with each other on a Saturday afternoon, which was an interesting dynamic for the restaurant, girl power lunches even at the weekend! Which also proves, how hard we are all still working in these economic times, even in pricey and delicious restaurants.
I mentioned in last week's blog that I would write further on the so called American-Anglo Special Relationship of which so much is written about in the media and whether it does indeed exist. Churchill popped up at the Spectator debate entitled 'America is just not into us - discuss'. James Crabtree, the Financial Times’s comment editor, deplored the way our war leader’s bust had been ‘removed from the White House’ by an incoming Barack Obama. It marked the terminal point in a relationship that once shaped world events. America was looking east. Obama had pledged to run ‘a Pacific presidency’. Crabtree repeated Helmut Schmidt’s gag about our alliance with the Americans, ‘a relationship so special that only one side knows it exists’.
Nile Gardiner admitted that Obama was no lover of Britain, but he reminded us that the motion refers to America, not to any particular White House inmate, and Obama’s mid-term drubbing had shown how poorly he reflects ‘the spirit and heart of America’. Our friendship was ‘the world’s strongest alliance’. ‘The Germans and French dream of the access we enjoy in Washington.’ America’s interest in Kate and Wills’s engagement, which received blanket TV coverage over there, will remind the world how much they love us.
Hugh Hunter, former British vice-consul in Florida, said the psychological differences between the countries ran deep. Americans were isolationist and profoundly individualistic. ‘How could there be a special relationship?’ he asked.
Gideon Rachman, chief foreign affairs commentator at the Financial Times, likened the relationship to a romance. ‘It’s cyclical. Sometimes it even enters a manic phase. And because it’s an unequal relationship it’s always being examined for signs of decrepitude.’ The alliance thrives in three key areas: we share intelligence, we collaborate within the Security Council, and our soldiers fight side by side in Afghanistan. Rachman admitted that Britain rarely features in American foreign policy documents, but this is because we’re stable, prosperous and friendly; foreign policy must concern itself with dangers.
Mike Gapes, the MP and veteran of the foreign affairs select committee, deplored Britain’s ‘obsession with the length of meetings with American presidents’. True, we have a special relationship with the US but so do Canada, Mexico, Israel, France, Spain, Australia and a dozen others. Optimistically we exaggerate the degree of influence we have over the US while they nurture a hearty contempt for us.
Sir Christopher Meyer, formerly our man in Washington, put us straight on the vanishing Churchill bust. ‘I myself presented the statue to George Bush. It was a loan, not a gift, for the duration of his presidency.’ Obama had quite properly returned it to the British embassy. He disliked the term ‘special relationship’: ‘It’s a normal relationship with extraordinary troughs and peaks.’ Sir Christopher ended by questioning himself in Socratic mode. Is America our most important ally? Yes. Will our interests always converge with theirs? No. Should we stand up for ourselves? Yes. If we do, will the relationship be structurally damaged? No. ‘Mrs Thatcher showed you could have a huge argument [with Reagan] and emerge stronger.’
But his team emerged weaker. The motion was carried with a sizeable swing to the proposition. Which goes to show that the London audience could not be persuaded that the Yanks are really that into us. Perhaps they are more into their Ben & Jerrys.
Hugh Hunter, former British vice-consul in Florida, said the psychological differences between the countries ran deep. Americans were isolationist and profoundly individualistic. ‘How could there be a special relationship?’ he asked.
Gideon Rachman, chief foreign affairs commentator at the Financial Times, likened the relationship to a romance. ‘It’s cyclical. Sometimes it even enters a manic phase. And because it’s an unequal relationship it’s always being examined for signs of decrepitude.’ The alliance thrives in three key areas: we share intelligence, we collaborate within the Security Council, and our soldiers fight side by side in Afghanistan. Rachman admitted that Britain rarely features in American foreign policy documents, but this is because we’re stable, prosperous and friendly; foreign policy must concern itself with dangers.
Mike Gapes, the MP and veteran of the foreign affairs select committee, deplored Britain’s ‘obsession with the length of meetings with American presidents’. True, we have a special relationship with the US but so do Canada, Mexico, Israel, France, Spain, Australia and a dozen others. Optimistically we exaggerate the degree of influence we have over the US while they nurture a hearty contempt for us.
Sir Christopher Meyer, formerly our man in Washington, put us straight on the vanishing Churchill bust. ‘I myself presented the statue to George Bush. It was a loan, not a gift, for the duration of his presidency.’ Obama had quite properly returned it to the British embassy. He disliked the term ‘special relationship’: ‘It’s a normal relationship with extraordinary troughs and peaks.’ Sir Christopher ended by questioning himself in Socratic mode. Is America our most important ally? Yes. Will our interests always converge with theirs? No. Should we stand up for ourselves? Yes. If we do, will the relationship be structurally damaged? No. ‘Mrs Thatcher showed you could have a huge argument [with Reagan] and emerge stronger.’
But his team emerged weaker. The motion was carried with a sizeable swing to the proposition. Which goes to show that the London audience could not be persuaded that the Yanks are really that into us. Perhaps they are more into their Ben & Jerrys.
So after what seemed like half a lifetime and excuses why not to go out like normal people on a Saturday night, the X Factor Final came upon us. Was it really worth the wait. Well indeed it was, if only to see Rhianna, Christina Aguilera and Take That completely upstage the contestants during their duets. Poor Matt bit his hand as Rhianna prowled onto the stage and ended with a semi, Rebecca was dumbstruck and stared at the floor, even completely mute at one point, in which was supposed to be a singing competition and One Erection (between the lot of them), sorry One Direction pretended they were best mates with Robbie Williams who was as wired as anyone on 10 double expressos. The only 'star' amongst them was the much maligned Cher Lloyd who took to the stage with Will.i.Am with gusto and was probably the only person who didn't bat an eyelid at his necklace, Will looked liked he had got into a fight with a Nintendo. The daftest thing was that 5,000 people made the effort to call into the show to complain about Rhianna's dancing, when it was hands down, the highlight of the whole series.
People do seem to worry their heads about dancing being obscene. When the most worrying fact of all which puts a bit of raunch completely in the shade, is that the future generation growing up now in the Western World will be many more times obese than their parents, because of the fact that they haven't moved around or danced at all and are only interested in eating and computer games when they are not sleeping. Perhaps Will.i.Am should have a word with them and break up their games and create a whole range of amusing necklaces and Rhianna can teach the kids to join her in some booty and daggering.
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 you can go back to reading your new Heat magazine:
1. Bernie Madoff's final victim, his son: http://www.telegraph.co.uk/finance/financetopics/bernard-madoff/8196670/Bernard-Madoffs-massive-financial-swindle-claims-its-latest-victim-as-his-son-Mark-commits-suicide.html
2. Looking forward to watching the newly dramatic reworked classic Upstairs, Downstairs starting at 9pm Boxing Day;
3. Going a bit crazy on the Net-a-porter and Matches websites, anything to avoid the madding shopping crowds;
4. Great piece in The Observer by Jemima Khan on Julian Assange, very brave of her to put her best foot forward: http://www.guardian.co.uk/commentisfree/2010/dec/11/julian-assange-jemima-khan
5. Wishing I was at the Marrakech Film Festival escaping the English winter;
6. Loving my new early Christmas pressie from a friend, Dior foundation brush, literally brush your face on every morning;
7. Haven't watched Corrie for a year, however, the tram crash was well worth it, what a drama, best line spoken by Rita: 'What is it with me and trams?';
8. Reading Rachel Johnson's 'A Diary of The Lady', hysterical;
9. Looking forward to watching The Way Back at the Barbican over Chirstmas with Colin Farrell & my favourite Hollywood actor Ed Harris;
10. Following Heston Blumenthal's recipes in the Waitrose Weekend freesheet - Lapsang Souchang Tea Smoked Salmon yum, yum. Think I will give the blow torch on the creme brulee a miss though!
Wikileaks, Onassis & surviving the rounds of Christmas drinks parties...
Week ending 5th December 2010.
Well what a blast off to the start of the working week. Batman and Robin rule Russia, Gaddafi goes nowhere without a busty Ukrainian nurse at his side, Hilary instructed her US diplomats to spy on the UN, David Cameron was less than impressive to the US (and as someone who did not vote for D.C. that comes as really no surprise), not to mention that we Brits are obsessed with the so called special relationship which is nonsense - more to follow next week, China has developed a rather soft spot for a reunited Korea and Julian Assange can't help tickling young Swedish fillys. Did we not know all this already? The most interesting and outrageous item of all was the full story of Bradley Manning, a US soldier working as an intelligence analyst, who stands accused of downloading vast amounts of classified materials on a CD-RW which he labelled as Lady Gaga. Whilst he listened to the files he would lip-synch to Lady Gaga's Telephone while 'exfiltrating' possibly the largest data spillage in American history.
Whilst the content of the Wikileaks is nothing more outrageous in its tone than someone making quips at an English dinner party or down the pub, we do tend to forget that most of our overseas friends do not share our 'close to the bone' and more often than not, insensitive sense of humour and wit and perhaps once again, the US has snuck an own goal of foot and mouth disease. Of course this would have never happened in previous generations past, when everything was recorded in analogue form - i.e. in writing, on paper, as it would have been too difficult to shift and carry heavy files around without being noticed. That is progress for you. Perhaps Apple will come out with a new wikileaks i-phone already loaded with all our personal gaffs and secrets, not such a ridiculous idea.
Going to the theatre on a Monday night is a bit of a strain, especially in sub-zero temperatures. However, being given tickets to the best seats of the house which would normally cost £85 each was a good enough reason to push on through the more preferable hibernation mode and into the Novello Theatre with a fabulous friend. We watched the fantastic Robert Lindsay starring as Aristotle Onassis. Starting in 1963, and covering the last 12 years of the Greek shipping magnate's life, it shows him to be little more than a boorish megalomaniac. We see him dumping Maria Callas (for whose art he had nothing but disdain - 'opera sounds like a bunch of Italian chefs singing risotto recipes'), for the supposedly more covetable Jackie Kennedy. It's also suggested, in conspiracy theory style, that his dubious financial dealings with shady Palestinians may have paid for the murder of Bobby Kennedy, whom he passionately loathed. The best line in Onassis was one spoken by Jackie Kennedy to the doomed Onassis heir Alexander, 'your father was peanut butter with chocolate and stawberries, they don't make them like like that anymore, the future is vanilla'. Couldn't agree more.
Thank goodness for Robert Lindsay. The play has had mixed reviews, however, the star of My Family and the previously written about Citizen Smith was the absolute star of the show. Well worth watching if you find yourself lost in the Aldwych area for a couple of hours of fun, before or after a dash to the new Beaufort Bar at the Savory - go about 10 minutes before the performance starts and you will be sure to get a good seat for a fantastic price as the theatre was far from full, except for the fact that amongst the half empty seats I spotted an ex! And as much as they were your world at one time, once they have stepped out of it and you genuinely wish them the best, the next time you spy them some years later, you feel quite indifferent to the sighting. In fact, so indifferent, there was no time to pass pleasantries, there was no need. The satisfaction was in knowing that his new beau was more of a Miranda than an Elizabeth Hurley.
The plethora of Christmas parties are in full December swing, sometimes 3 or 4 a night. One can either tackle them head-on in a haze with a full on head ache every night, or somewhat more tempered, deciding which ones to drink at or not, depending on the quality of the liquor flowing, the company, the venue, etc, etc. Luckily so far so good. Even in the depths of the snow and ice last week, I managed to skid down Glebe Place on the Louboutin's at lightning speed aided by holding onto a passing handsome mans arm and traversed into the party grabbing a vino tinto and a salmon blini on the way up the stairs. In the spirit of Christmas and charitable cheer, let's not forget the poor homeless buggers sleeping in their cardboard boxes in awful minus temperatures. I will make an extra effort to dig a bit deeper into the pocket this winter and remember those more unfortunate.
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 you can go back to reading your new Heat magazine:
1. Lunch with the FT: Tamara Mellon - http://www.ft.com/cms/s/2/9d821ce2-fe60-11df-845b-00144feab49a.html#axzz17GqypBGG
2. Fabulous cultured pearls and other jewellery by Silvana Monson, a wonderful friend's Brazilian wife;
3. L'Oreal Spray Tan - wake up like you have been in Barbados without the jetlag;
4. Great drinks party with Dubai friends at Ju Ju on the Kings Road - the joint is pumping on a Thursday night and delicious duck spring rolls;
5. Catching up with missed episodes of Any Human Heart - http://www.channel4.com/programmes/any-human-heart;
6. Wrapping Christmas parties whilst blasting out Gil Scott Heron;
7. Booking somewhere hot to double whammy missing Easter and the Royal Wedding;
8. Wondering if the ironing pile procreates like mice and doubles overnight;
9. Reading The Slap on the Kindle for I-phone whilst I still have good eyesight, quite small writing, although very surprisingly clear;
10. Wondering why the oh so cool Black Eyed Peas could sing Dirty Dancing, surely there are other great songwriters in LA who could help them?
Well what a blast off to the start of the working week. Batman and Robin rule Russia, Gaddafi goes nowhere without a busty Ukrainian nurse at his side, Hilary instructed her US diplomats to spy on the UN, David Cameron was less than impressive to the US (and as someone who did not vote for D.C. that comes as really no surprise), not to mention that we Brits are obsessed with the so called special relationship which is nonsense - more to follow next week, China has developed a rather soft spot for a reunited Korea and Julian Assange can't help tickling young Swedish fillys. Did we not know all this already? The most interesting and outrageous item of all was the full story of Bradley Manning, a US soldier working as an intelligence analyst, who stands accused of downloading vast amounts of classified materials on a CD-RW which he labelled as Lady Gaga. Whilst he listened to the files he would lip-synch to Lady Gaga's Telephone while 'exfiltrating' possibly the largest data spillage in American history.
Whilst the content of the Wikileaks is nothing more outrageous in its tone than someone making quips at an English dinner party or down the pub, we do tend to forget that most of our overseas friends do not share our 'close to the bone' and more often than not, insensitive sense of humour and wit and perhaps once again, the US has snuck an own goal of foot and mouth disease. Of course this would have never happened in previous generations past, when everything was recorded in analogue form - i.e. in writing, on paper, as it would have been too difficult to shift and carry heavy files around without being noticed. That is progress for you. Perhaps Apple will come out with a new wikileaks i-phone already loaded with all our personal gaffs and secrets, not such a ridiculous idea.
Going to the theatre on a Monday night is a bit of a strain, especially in sub-zero temperatures. However, being given tickets to the best seats of the house which would normally cost £85 each was a good enough reason to push on through the more preferable hibernation mode and into the Novello Theatre with a fabulous friend. We watched the fantastic Robert Lindsay starring as Aristotle Onassis. Starting in 1963, and covering the last 12 years of the Greek shipping magnate's life, it shows him to be little more than a boorish megalomaniac. We see him dumping Maria Callas (for whose art he had nothing but disdain - 'opera sounds like a bunch of Italian chefs singing risotto recipes'), for the supposedly more covetable Jackie Kennedy. It's also suggested, in conspiracy theory style, that his dubious financial dealings with shady Palestinians may have paid for the murder of Bobby Kennedy, whom he passionately loathed. The best line in Onassis was one spoken by Jackie Kennedy to the doomed Onassis heir Alexander, 'your father was peanut butter with chocolate and stawberries, they don't make them like like that anymore, the future is vanilla'. Couldn't agree more.
Thank goodness for Robert Lindsay. The play has had mixed reviews, however, the star of My Family and the previously written about Citizen Smith was the absolute star of the show. Well worth watching if you find yourself lost in the Aldwych area for a couple of hours of fun, before or after a dash to the new Beaufort Bar at the Savory - go about 10 minutes before the performance starts and you will be sure to get a good seat for a fantastic price as the theatre was far from full, except for the fact that amongst the half empty seats I spotted an ex! And as much as they were your world at one time, once they have stepped out of it and you genuinely wish them the best, the next time you spy them some years later, you feel quite indifferent to the sighting. In fact, so indifferent, there was no time to pass pleasantries, there was no need. The satisfaction was in knowing that his new beau was more of a Miranda than an Elizabeth Hurley.
The plethora of Christmas parties are in full December swing, sometimes 3 or 4 a night. One can either tackle them head-on in a haze with a full on head ache every night, or somewhat more tempered, deciding which ones to drink at or not, depending on the quality of the liquor flowing, the company, the venue, etc, etc. Luckily so far so good. Even in the depths of the snow and ice last week, I managed to skid down Glebe Place on the Louboutin's at lightning speed aided by holding onto a passing handsome mans arm and traversed into the party grabbing a vino tinto and a salmon blini on the way up the stairs. In the spirit of Christmas and charitable cheer, let's not forget the poor homeless buggers sleeping in their cardboard boxes in awful minus temperatures. I will make an extra effort to dig a bit deeper into the pocket this winter and remember those more unfortunate.
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 you can go back to reading your new Heat magazine:
1. Lunch with the FT: Tamara Mellon - http://www.ft.com/cms/s/2/9d821ce2-fe60-11df-845b-00144feab49a.html#axzz17GqypBGG
2. Fabulous cultured pearls and other jewellery by Silvana Monson, a wonderful friend's Brazilian wife;
3. L'Oreal Spray Tan - wake up like you have been in Barbados without the jetlag;
4. Great drinks party with Dubai friends at Ju Ju on the Kings Road - the joint is pumping on a Thursday night and delicious duck spring rolls;
5. Catching up with missed episodes of Any Human Heart - http://www.channel4.com/programmes/any-human-heart;
6. Wrapping Christmas parties whilst blasting out Gil Scott Heron;
7. Booking somewhere hot to double whammy missing Easter and the Royal Wedding;
8. Wondering if the ironing pile procreates like mice and doubles overnight;
9. Reading The Slap on the Kindle for I-phone whilst I still have good eyesight, quite small writing, although very surprisingly clear;
10. Wondering why the oh so cool Black Eyed Peas could sing Dirty Dancing, surely there are other great songwriters in LA who could help them?
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