Fierce

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Fan and all as I am of Ms Moss’s style, the much reported hologram of her in the Alexander McQueen: Savage Beauty exhibition seemed in fact a bit of a let down once you got to it.

It paled, literally and figuratively speaking into insignificance once one had done the rounds of the rest of his fierce and fantastical work.

“I met him a couple of times” I said to my friend B.  “The first was a Q & A he did either here or at the ICA in the early Nineties.  I remember it so clearly because I was wearing a pale green coloured moleskin suit I’d designed made-to-measure, and it was its first outing.  It was at the time when he was frequently lambasted in the press for being ‘Misogynistic.’”

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Needle on the record

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“I haven’t got any ID with me by the way” my 21 year old City trader companion for the evening remarked as we headed out for drinks.

“Well – what’s the age now? Isn’t it 18? Aren’t you legal?” I asked a little clueless on not having come up against this issue for a while.

“Yes of course, it’s just sometimes I get asked.”

Chiltern Firehouse was our destination for the evening. Ah, like an illicit lover she carelessly drew our attention – all charm and good looks, subtly seductive with the attention to detail that makes us weak at the knees and powerless to resist.

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Disco dancing Jagger style

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I can always tell when my cousin is on the school run.  Apart from the time itself – around 4.45pm – the bellowing wind enveloping her usually causes a shouting match as she marches up the hill towards her son’s place of learning.

Me:  “RACH!  LOVELY HJORDIS FROM IBIZA HAS SENT AN INVITATION TO WHAT LOOKS LIKE A PROPER OLD SKOOL DISCO NIGHT.  IT’S CALLED THE RETURN OF JEZEBEL HOSTED BY BODY AND SOUL – A CHARITY – AND JADE JAGGER.”

Rach: (even louder than me):  THAT SOUNDS NICE!  COUNT ME IN!

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I Capitelli

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There’s no other word for it really – or words if one is being precise.

E was taking me out for a belated birthday dinner at Bocca di Lupo.  I’d fancied going for a while, so when he asked me to choose the restaurant I didn’t hesitate.

We looked at the menu as the waiter appeared.  “What should I have to drink E, I just don’t know” I asked with a concerned expression.

“I don’t know S, glass of champagne?”

“Perfect, that’s exactly what I’ll have”

We giggled.  Off to a flying start on the silliness we checked out the various dishes.  Lots of ceviche, sage leaves rolled in artichokes – or was it the other way around? Cornish anchovies,  Guinea fowl, Tuna tartare, baked scallops and lo and behold a ‘B.Y.O. Truffle’ menu.”

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Blockbuster

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It’s like in December everyone you know says ‘We must catch up before Christmas!’ which is swiftly followed by festive cards that read ‘Let’s meet in the New Year!’

The situation today was in a similar vein: Given that the current blockbuster exhibition was ending imminently we thought we’d better get down there to view it – along with the rest of the country.

“We’re definitely amongst those people of a certain age” my cousin noted looking around her at the grey/white haired heads populating the Sainsbury wing of the National Gallery.  “Yes – quite!  That’s the joy of not working Rach!” I replied instantly.

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