Shall We Dance? December 2017.

Dear Rowley,

Christmas? Couldn’t have liked it more. The day began with the last ten minutes of the service at St George’s Mayfair and a handshake with Rector Roddy who rather likes my new look. Then on to the Beaumont for a late Christmas lunch. I happened to be early so bellied-up to the American Bar and ordered a Bloody Mary. The chap sitting next to me turned out to be a creature of fascination and we chatted easily for the next hour and a half.

Philip Treacy was in having coffee and we had a proper catch-up about the perils of toxic people in London. Philip was very kind about my six years at Royal Ascot as the BBC fashion critic. I like Philip. He is real and genuine and kind. The invitation to lunch came courtesy of La Farmer and Mr Bowering. Came Fran, Foley and Louis. I think we stayed for five hours and drank the cellars dry. When Susan and I get on form there is no stopping us. We laugh like drains and drink like fishes.

Foley was marvellous as was lovely Louis who is quite the most handsome Lebanese cutie and terribly intelligent. We all practically licked the turkey plate and toasted a million toasts. Jenny Halpern was in the house as was the J. Sheekey Massive. Well I practically rolled home and slept the sleep of the just. Boxing Day saw a little swimming, a little walking, a little gammon and mashed potato and a lot of True Blood.

Fiona Shaw has appeared in series two of True Blood as a witch and she is quite simply brilliant. One of my favourite elements of True Blood  is the concept of vampires glamouring humans. It makes them tell the truth and lose memories. Wouldn’t that come in handy, hunty? Well the old Antoine de Clevecy is at £14 a bottle so it would be rude not to, no? In I don’t know how I do it.

How’s your love life Rowley? Mine is busy. I might even install a revolving door in Bloomsbury Towers. It’s not that I don’t want to fall in love but the ones I tend to go for tend to me terribly married and guilty. Guilt schmilt as La Farmer says. I honestly don’t know why they stay in sexless marriages over and above a desperate need to be conventional. Well, to hell with that.

i do find all of the people I truly love in this world are terribly unconventional. We are wild cards. We are the jokers in the pack. We are also happy as a clam as long as nobody tells us what to do or judges. I get so fed up of people ‘worrying’ about me. I don’t worry about anybody else over and above their not reaching their full potential.

So what does 2018 hold, darling? I have the Henry Poole book to do with Thames & Hudson and another project on the cards with a dear friend. It concerns Millicent Rogers: an exotic style dictator who collected fine jewellery and haute couture. She left the high life to go and live with a lover in Mexico. I am very tempted myself! The climate! The Tequila! The boys!

Quite tempted to go to the dance at the Royal Festival Hall this afternoon. I can dance – as I can sing – but only after a bucket full of booze and a loss of inhibitions. Funny isn’t it that stone cold sober it is hard to have a good time  but after a lick of Champagne it is ‘rouge my knees and roll my stockings down’ time.

I must admit to being rather relaxez-vous this Boxing Day. I have had far too much excitement in previous weeks and now simply want peace, quiet and a box set about vampires ripping the throats out of humans. Chianti anyone? I am such a fang banger. Instead I decided to go to the Royal Festival Hall’s open dance afternoon. It was lovely. Did I dance? None of yours…

Are you going on a diet or doing Dry January? I would rather drink bleach. It is so naffing depressing in January you need all the carbs and booze that a human body can take until – well – May. I am watching an ad for the ‘Twist & Shape’ fitness system. As Kitty said of the Chinese acrobats, ‘overrated. I could balance a chair on my nose but I am far too busy. Besides, I wouldn’t get any rummy played’.

I think the fitness plan for 2018 is to KBO. I will keep swimming and walking and dancing and, well, you know the rest. That’s my idea of fitness. I sweat much better in the dark than in a gym. I do have a dreadful throat this winter. It is not nice. I am not going on the whiskey but I am soothing it with Chablis.

I so tire of politics don’t you? I am increasingly coming to believe that politics, celebrity, sport and fashion are occupations that keep the idiots out of mischief while the rest of us get on with running the planet. I do think people in sh0ps and restaurants and in the service industry run this planet and the rest of us just pose. Good system. Until next time…