Thursday 21st January 2016

We set out in minus 15 next morning. One advantage was that at last I could wear such pieces as my Topman tweed suitlette. But my hat … just a little rat-like, from River Island, in Russian style with ear-flaps. Stockholm was revealed in daylight – enchanting, flung over a number of islands in low gracious swathes, like a silk scarf loose on a table, although the individual buildings often v. palatial. We sought the Gustavian … that’s a kind of decor much mentioned in Interiors magazine years ago championed by Gustavus 111 in the late 18th century. It’s Louis Seize furniture but painted a gorgeous creamy grey – must be just right – a bit of gilt and glass and lovely wallpapers in azure or more grey with light semi-transparent white patterns. The whole effect is so Swedish. Imagine the modern Scand look but 18th century, so pared down but tempting, indeed edible. Online I heard of some 1st floor rooms of pure Gustavian, but impossible of access. What could be better? We went and stood outside them. There wasn’t even a door bell. No chance of bellowing into the wall: ‘I’m from Dainty Lady TV! Your whole future depends on you admitting me.’The hotel man had suggested some other Gustavian possibilities although I don’t think he really knew what it was despite the hotel being Gustavian supposedly. So we wrenched away from the inaccessible rooms and came out beneath the Royal palace. There it was, all laid out on different islands, the essentials of a civilised life – a Royal Palace, an Opera House , a Grand Hotel, a Parliament building, a couple of weird-looking spiky churches and a Royal Academy of the Arts. We worked round – much of the water was thrillingly frozen – to another island where there was supposed to be Gustavian. But when we got there – finger tips beginning to go despite Harrods gloves with cashmere lining … well, what exactly did the scrawled biro ring on the map refer to? Was it that church which looked as if it had been taken back into the community for craft activities? We rested in a modern museum then walked round the back to the ferry. Delicious buildings, possibility former barracks. Just low blocks in ocre and those Swedish windows that open out (not sash) painted an excellent dull green. Just so simple and gracious and Swedish. The light also – clear and forgiving. Now we were hoping for the Vasa, which Val had told me about. Somehow he seems to have been to Stockholm. The Vasa is a 17th century warship, the only one of its kind preserved in the world. But after the ferry, there was a sign which said ‘Abba Museum’. Prince Dmitri said it had been recommended to him. We must go. PD, as you know, loves music and is mad for vinyl. I assumed he likes Abba. A lot of people do. They were a huge pop group in the 1980s with hit after hit. Catchy tunes were their speciality, all very bright and rinsed. The Abba Museum would surely be riveting. In the first room was a car and a map then in the second they won the Eurovision Song Contest in about 1976. The winning song was called ‘Waterloo’. They could see them actually singing it in the contest and then compare their costumes on the screen with those in the glass case. Ann-Finn (I think that’s the name) had a skirt made out of scarves apparently. I couldn’t make out why the song was called ‘Waterloo’ which was the most awful massacre. But I don’t think it had anything to do with the battle. It is a deliriously happy song, with ‘Waterloo’ repeated as a word in a rapturous way at regular intervals. Then came Agnetha’s sewing room. It appeared that she did all the costumes. The fascinating thing was that she had a Husque Varna sewing machine. I never knew they did sewing machines, I thought only curious miniature see-thru dishwashers to go on the counter. Aunt Lavinia had one and the Gay Mother threatened to get one as well but never did mercifully. At this point Prince Dmitri approached and said, ‘This is dreadful.’ I was shocked. I had assumed he was a fan. ‘Well,’ I said, ‘these fabrics are a bit tacky and those dungarees… and Benny’s hair or maybe it’s Bjorn … that physique would never do nowadays.. so weedy… ‘ ‘Their music’s awful,’ Prince Dmitri said. We progressed to a room full of actual costumes they’d worn. Breathless. With success one of the men had got more and more spray-on below the waist while more and more flouncy above. Gleaming white early Lycra, blue blouses – but the mu is surely terribly rousing, like hymns, and such a beat, so uplifting… There were karaoke opportunities in the Abba Museum but I thought better of it. It was getting to be more and more time for lunch. Somehow there was an emptiness. Not just this great heap of dated show-biz tat. But the mu itself – so plastic and easy. And no sense of the human beings from which it spewed. It was really terribly depressing.

These Lovely Swedish Buildings: So Swedish. See the Heavenly Light

More of These Building: Simple but not Provincial

The Ferry Stop for the Abba Museum

This is Agnetha

Not Quite Sure Who These People Are But Like Their Look 

Their Eurovision Cossies

Abba Footwear!

Mock-Up of Swedish Island Home where Numbers were Composed – Sacred

Agnetha’s Cardy

Agnetha’s Husquevarna

Dungarees!

Clogs! We all Had Them Then

Helicopter from One of the Covers

Abba Waxwork: Their Fully-Developed Fame’s Height Look

Waxwork of Benny or Maybe Bjorn

So Gorgeous and Such a Good Fit

Bjorn in the Frock

Another Great Look: Note the Fit of the Dungarees