Sunday 27th December 2009

News yet to come in of what Poor Little Rich Gays got and gave for Christmas but so much to tell otherwise but it’ll have to wait. I had the duck Christmas Dinner with the cherry jam and it was quite excellent. Mostly we have been with our Gay Mothers and their Christmas trees – huge subject of great fascination but will I be able to fit it in because, tomorrow, I dash back to London for the sales.

By rights I should be in the field now, but the Gay Mother required another day so I’m sitting here while vultures pick the shelves clean.

Awful, awful!

The sales call for mental as well as emotional preparation; disappointment is inevitable and unexpected opportunities must be seized.

First of all, review your possessions and make a list of what you need. It’s out of the question that you don’t need anything. I have never missed the sales, summer and winter, in thirty years. Clothes should be the priority: you’ve got to move fast or unique pieces will be snatched by others. Towels, bed linen etc will be heaped up in Harrods for weeks and can wait.

Remember a few new pieces will revive your wardrobe and keep it going until the summer sales.

The winter sales are more challenging than the summer. More people clawing up…

Then select the shops you will visit: in my case it’s Harrods, Harvey Nichols, Joseph (Sloane Avenue), Selfridges (good for shoes), Browns (South Molton Street), Prada (in Harrods, and Sloane Street and Bond Street) Diverse and Sefton in Upper Street, Islington.  Ideally acquire a bicycle so you can nip between all of these.

Now there’s something I’ve not told you: I already got Matches and The Library covered before Christmas.

Ideally you should have done several recces in the three weeks before the sales, so you know the terrain and your golden vision of your wardrobe has had time to form in your sleep. But they do move everything round for the sales, so you can’t be sure of finding your choosen items where they were before.

Then of course you have your list of stuck-off designers, just as you have your stuck-off artists for museum visits.  In my case it’s Dolce e Gabbana, Versace (common and ghastly), Gucci (not what it was), Paul Smith (dreary or for straight men on Saturday nights). So, once on the sale premises, your activities will be more concise and precise.You slice in to your favoured houses.

My list is as follows: one pair of shoes, jeans in a steel-blue hue I’ve not yet seen anywhere, knits (fine and heavy), shirts (Prada ideal), possibly some smart-casual (awful exp) trousers.

In addition: towels, a large saucepan (mine has developed a leak).

So modest, don’t you think?

A warning: follow all my advice but don’t be fooled. Be prepared to suffer all the same. Expect trauma. In the sales you must fight crowds, barge and shove at the racks. Above all, you must be quick, quick, quick. Tell at a glance if it is the right size or horrid. Then, do not fear to strip off in the middle of the shop if there’s a queue for the changing room. Try on, try on (so vital in clothes’ buying. Don’t shop in lace-up shoes). If possible, get an assistant to fetch and carry for you. At Prada they sometimes have things round the back.

Even so you’ll be making snap decisions, you might have to abandon your list altogether and re-think on the spot – will it be useful? How and when will I wear it?

I already bought a black suit at The Library. It is by Nicolo Ceschi Berrini – rare designer. Frightful price and only 30 per cent off but I had to have it because it is tiny, tiny and tight, tight. But  I fear I was over-hasty.  On Christmas Day (which I’ve not yet told you about) it was difficult to wear. Oh no, is it too small?

It may yet come right but you can’t be sure.

May God bless Poor Little Rich Gays here and throughout the world as they go forth for the Sales.