A Stelrad - rip out if you have
Saturday 2nd August 2009
I drive the Gay Mother back to the country taking my architect, Bruce MacBain, with me. But he comes as a friend (of over thirty years in fact) rather than in an official capacity. You remember him. He is also Laura Malcolm’s architect, as well as a lot of other important people’s.
On the other hand it is usual for grand gays to travel with a skeleton back-up team. Art advisors are often crucial. Some years ago one of the Multis told me that Chase Aston, the make-up artist, made the mistake of coming to London from New York without his trainer and nutritionist – with the result that he gained over three stone.
Bruce saved the day some years ago when the Gay Mother was finally persuaded to have central heating (yes, like the Queen, she had been crouched over a two-bar fire since the War). I was lying awake at night thinking she would end up with Stelrads – do you know them? They’re the absolute bogarama horror radiator, the ruin of many a happy snap of family life in the home. I have some in my own home, in inconspicuous places, I hope. At the last moment, Bruce suggested Monza. The Gay Mother listened to him since he is a plain-speaking Scot. They are flat and blend into the background, unlike the vile Stelrad. You must have them.
Bruce’s luggage causes consternation – to me, at any rate. Where it is? Just a little slim thing like a briefcase. For four nights I have two large bags, five jeans, six shirts, emergency pants (I’m learning to live with those outsize Bridget Jones bloomers, by the way. It’s terrible. You get used to anything in the end. This is how not to achieve style), Rare Earth Face Pack, two colognes (day and evening). The truth is Bruce was brought up in a peat stream. His skin is perfect. He doesn’t need products – not yet at least.
No, he has put everything into other areas. He once very properly fell out with a painter and decorator who got paint on his flawless polished rubber floor. For the last two years he has been contemplating a curtain over a door in his house. Just about every known fabric sample has been sent for. None will do.
We visit a nearby well-known garden and make criticisms. Acers are dismissed – I do agree. A lot of them are brown, not red. They look like shivering trolls. Plants have a hard time getting into Bruce’s own garden. There must be no frivolity or lax habit. Evergreen is preferred for year-round interest and lack of tendency to look unsightly. On this occasion Bruce lights on a formidable item with large hairy leaves and strange scaly flowers. Here it is:
Rodgersia (possibly pinnata superba ) - approved of by Bruce MacBain
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I am Victoria Falls. For the sake of this blog I wish to be a woman, or really a man with a woman’s name. I go back hundreds of years with A.E and he claims that I have actually written his Royal books. This of course is partially true. I also supply a few fashion tips along the way, usually suggesting how to achieve a rich gay look via the High Street. I suppose I am what modern people call ‘a creative’. I think I would like to lurk in the background on this site, but also try to open it out to a wider circle of people….I’m sure the uber-guru of Manhattan faggotry, Simon Doonan, an old friend of mine, would love to be involved…..
It has actually reached Malaysia, where it already has a wide but clandestine following.
Curtains of course do not feature in the most stylish interiors and are therefore problematic – only required in this case to conceal unsightly Listed feature.
Readers may be reassured to hear the Gay Mother’s mid-C20th Grand Design remains intact as a model of elegant restraint not necessarily characteristic of that period (or of Grand Designs), but clearly inspirational for the next generation.
Years of bitter trial and error have demonstrated to us both that in the garden, nature will prevail; plants admitted must be suited first of all to the specific conditions and only then to the current aesthetic preference.