Sunday 24th April 2011 Easter Day
My account of my rare Roman sightseeing is ready but won’t be released just yet because of the Resurrection whose terror and glamour are in every way to be preferred to the simple-minded nursery syrup of Christmas. Last summer at Sansepulcro we saw Piero della Francesca’s great painting of the Risen Lord forging out of the grave, the guards quaking in mortal dread. A baby, however well-haloed, can’t hope to compete. The Easter story, from the entry into Jerusalem, through the Agony on the Cross to the impossible, self-creating conduct of Christ in the tomb, speaks directly to the hearts of Poor Little Rich Gays, whether believers or not, here and throughout the world.
Absolute black mark against any Poor Little Rich Gays not having lamb on Easter Sunday. The Gay Mother and I had to take our Easter lamb last night. Today we visited Aunt Smidge and her daughter, Cousin Smurry, who let it be known some time ago that lamb is off because of their dog (don’t ask). It never stops bouncing.
I didn’t tell you how I visited two butchers yesterday. In the first I asked for cutlets (the pinnacle of the Gay Mother’s lamb experience was some cutlets taken in Cortona in ’94) but, after delay and much hacking backstage, got chops. In country shops I don’t like to cause offence. The crushing could be fatal. So I bought them (£7.82), plotting meanwhile to try the other butcher where, after detailed description of the Cortona grail, I acquired what appeared to be at last the True Cutlet – French trimmed Best End (West End?) (£15.63). The Gay Mother pronounced them flavoursome but the tenderness of Cortona not regained.
Separates are going to be big this summer. In fact, I’m wearing separates today, not a suit. I’m wearing the Nicolò Ceschi Berrini black jacket and the Paul and Joe (now without risotto stain) herringbone tweed slacks. I’ve a big wedding at Bath Abbey in June. I’m going to wear separates. I’m also going to wear separates at the Photo Multi’s birthday party in that shed restaurant in Bermondsey on Friday. What with the Royal Wedding (I haven’t brought it in yet but it is upon us – such complex thoughts: on the whole I prefer a funeral to a wedding. Nevertheless I shall be glued) that only leaves Wednesday afternoon to buy separates that tend more towards summer.
Now we’ve a last-minute at the neighbour QC’s who is offering a musical entertainment led by the head of an Oxford college.
This is the quiet country life.
My Easter Seperates: Separates will be Big This Year
The Gay Mother's Good Friday Penance Fish: Raie à l'orange
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I have never heard of ‘separates’ – it seems to be a name for a non-suit.
Dear Adrian Edge
A thoughtful entry, thank you.
We have corresponded before on the subject of colour (dreary lack of) in menswear. I am surprised to see that you chose a black jacket to wear on Easter Sunday. Even from a top fashion house, is that not too funereal a garment for such a triumphal day?
Incidentally, the guards in Piero’s great painting are not quaking at the resurrection. They are sleeping through it, bless them.
N Taudevin
Yes, of course they are, I had forgotten – but going to get a nasty shock when they wake up!
I know – black for Easter Day. But I hadn’t a thing else to wear. Desperate situation
Perhaps you never mounted to the ladies department. But yes! A non suit describes well what I mean
Oh yes, I remember separates. They are a nice change to a suiting. I hear that Prince William may be wearing them for his going away on Friday.
I like the rural setting for your fish picture. We see a simple cottage stove, in what may be a “second” kitchen. There is firewood or perhaps botched carpentry on the shelf behind. There is enamel, and there is chipboard; but, sensibly, no decorators have been engaged these past 30 years. A tiny red curtain hangs half-heartedly where it has always hung, and out of sight there is perhaps a sink with a complicated old-fashioned draining rack.
It is an Aga. No chipboard. The Gay Mother ordered some very expensive German kitchen cupboards in about 1979 which fell to pieces far more decisively that the other ones made by hand by Maybins in 1956 and now subject to a preservation order
It is just a jacket and trousers but not jeans. Something to look forward to though, whether Prince William will be going away in separates and what they will be like.
I remember Lady Di’s pink going away outfit. It was beautiful.
Pomegranate, wasn’t it said to be at the time? Belville Sassoon, I believe.
‘Pink grapefruit’ by Mike Oldfield
it looks like the kitchen really needs to be ripped out and refurbished. those english homes can be freezing in winter
It’s a genuine example of post-War austerity Britain – made me feel all nostalgic, especially when I saw the lino peeping through in the background, though I wouldn’t have guessed it was a kitchen, I could have sworn that the fish dish is perched on the loo
“Separates”, in the wardrobe of army officer sloane ranger princes, is likely to mean a sports jacket (cut quite long) or navy blazer, worn with those peculiar thick scarlet or mustard yellow trousers you see in SW6. A suit would be better than that, perhaps with some Burberry flapping lightly.
Nicky T
Perfect! They wear those peculiar trousers with a Blues & Royals elasticated belt, and slip-off shoes. Quite often these days they have coloured strings around their wrists. Does anyone know what they’re for?