Wednesday 10th March 2010
No word from Papers and Paints. Will they dare to ignore? If so, I’ll go over to Fulham and set fire to their shop, in the manner of Nancy Cunard, who incinerated a taxi (driver had displeased) with an old flame-thrower she had left over from the Spanish Civil War.
The builders are still in! Oh! Oh! Oh! All I can do is groan. I’m at the lowest point. The new bath panel! It sticks out at one end. Why isn’t it neatly tucked under the rim of the bath? And it is bendy to the touch. Gregor has smeared silicone filler all over it and all over everything else in the room. The new shower screen: wrong size – back to the shop. Another one, a week. The pointing on the top terrace? When are they going to start on that? Will they ever get it looking less like mud pie?
Look at what they’ve done to my dining table! See the graph below. Those are their lunch bags. My thumb is split from the cleaning up after.
So lunch with Lord Arrowby last Saturday was an interlude. He is so calming, so wise and good. From his bedroom he fetched specially his new silver necklace from India. Like a fool I failed to graph it. It is unusual. Not, I imagine, made for the gay market. Big, yet intricate.
I must get a graph of it. Jewellery is not a subject we’ve touched on much. One of my biggest regrets is not to have worn more. Robin Smallmeal, head of landfill or whatever, and to me most dearly loathed, has got a diamond necklace, you know. Even he, who strives so hard to pass for straight and somehow succeeds; there are quite a few straight men with dubious dyed hair (although now, of course, Smallmeal has gone back to grey). I saw the necklace once: disappointing, puny. A man’s diamond necklace has got to be huge, each stone costing a council flat’s block.
If the budget does not permit, try metal. But you don’t want those clichéd chunky silver things they wear in clubs. You want something original, like Lord Arrowby’s.
Rings – now there’s more scope. Just summer I went to Ed Jasper’s in Oxfordshire for the weekend. A male couple dined. One of them’s mother had recently died and it seemed they were wearing all her jewellery. Some good pieces – large ruby ring, but a silver setting would have been better. All the same, clever move to put it all on at once.
So – you’ve got to have a lot of jewellery. Wear a minimum of seven pieces together – or none. Stones must be big and real, settings simple. A challenge. Burglary?
In the meantime, you’ll be interested to hear that the Multis are to lunch at their bank on the 19th. The menu has been wired through. A bit common? Rather like an organised pub lunch with bargain menu if you choose in advance – rainbow trout or chicken in the basket. Also, shallot twice, ‘Mushrooms Two ways’ and, as terms, ‘Starter’ and ‘Main’?
Starter
Ham Hock with Herb Shallot and Mustard Dressing
Main
Roast Fillet of Beef, Shallots, with Mushrooms Two ways a la Grecque and Cep Puree and Madeira Jus
Dessert
Iced Chocolate Parfait with Mandarin
Polish Builders' Luncheon Party
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What is in those blue bags? Polish sausage?
Yes! Or bread and Creme Bonjour, which is a processed cheese product adored in the Central of Europe and highly likely to have been advertised by Robin Smallmeal
Fire off another missive to the highest powers that be at Papers and Paints. Mention in passing that you always take valet parking at the Design Centre, Chelsea Harbour and regularly lunch with the editor of Homes & Gardens – they should be left in no doubt whatsoever over who they’re up against. Always does the trick in my experience. If this fails, they deserve arson!
How right you are! Eddie Sedgewick did have lunch with the editor of Homes and Gardens last autumn. At the end she said it was school coming-out time, she must dash.
I went to all that trouble to send Papers and Paints a sample – the bother of it; getting the paint tin out, newspaper down, brush, hammer to close lid, brush to be washed. And not a word after one whole week.
re the multis’ bank sending advance menu, I can confirm that banks are common about food. When my mother’s bridesmaid Sylvia used to invite me to lunch at Lloyds HQ (superior staff canteen, what with her being secretary to Number Two), she would ring in the morning to ask if I wanted fish or chicken, peas or cabbage, etc. Bank mentality: no surprises, everything ordained.
Only big surprise in banks is that they are toxic to the core! When Bridesmaid Sylvia was running Lloyds, it was all quite different though.
What do we feel about double-dip? I sense fear and loathing at the moment.
you are right that I was referring to old banks like the one in Mary Poppins. Nevertheless my point is valid: bankers want their MEALS all mapped out in advance; if they thought on their feet a bit more like creative cooks, they might not have all herded us all into this mess. Maybe they’re just thick.
I see what you’re saying: they get stuck in a rut and can’t be flexible. Hence turn toxic. Their obsessive meal-planning is a symptom of this.
What brains!!