All that glitters

IMG_0581Denise and I hugged goodbye.  “Keep in touch” she said.  “I want an update on Tolga.”

Indeed there could not have been a more appropriate private view in the world to attend other than Lincoln Townley’s ‘W1’ last night.  I wasn’t even sure why I was there – other than a very lovely invite from my celeb cuz who I’m occasionally honoured to accompany on such jaunts. But, at the end of the evening I knew exactly why.

I googled the artist en route to the Royal Academy, only to discover he is way up there with the portrait painters of today.  Hollywood hasn’t escaped him – and recognition is worldly and unanimous. I was particularly struck by his painting of Al Pacino.

Having found the gallery within this noble institution – ‘To the right of the courtyard at the far end’ Bex’s message said – I wandered in to friends and family of the artist and various other showbiz acquaintances.

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The elusive Mr Corrigan

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“What do you mean he’s not here?!!!” I shrieked.  “Where on earth is he?!!”

PJ the bartender looked slightly taken aback.  “Um, he’s in Ireland drinking Pina Coladas.”

“What! Doesn’t he care about his London restaurants anymore?!!” I demanded.

Anna sat on the bar stool beside me – just smiling, a bit too smugly I thought.  When she’d suggested a late night viewing of Rubens and His Legacy at the Royal Academy with an orchestra and cocktails, I had immediately agreed.  It was only on arriving at the exhibition and being handed a single pink rose and a matching chocolate that it hit me:  Valentine’s Day.

Oh well, in for a penny, in for an evening of pink and red and all the accompanying schmaltz.

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