“I’m going to be late!” I cried to my imminently world-famous star of an actor cousin.  “Plus there’s no way I should have had a couple of glasses of bubbly, I won’t be able to concentrate.”

“It’s philosophy cuz” she replied, “It’s exactly what’s required.”

A hurried run/walk had me arriving at a salubrious establishment in London W1, as composed as I could be to a packed room of fellow philosophers, some 15 minutes late.

“Welcome” said Lawrence, smiling benignly.  “Find a seat!”

I glanced around at a diverse population of London’s most curious.

Turning to place my jacket on the back of my chair, I felt I was being stared at. I looked up to encounter two of the most handsomest – and beardless – men I’d seen in quite some time perusing me: About 25 years a piece and surely on the cover of L’Uomo Vogue this month.

Continue reading “Three male models and a plate of rissoles please” →