Tuesday 29th June 2010

The Multis have re-surfaced. See graphs below. It looks vaguely familiar, doesn’t it? And generically correct, of course – staff in aprons, with trays.

But will the missing days between last Thursday and Sunday ever be accounted for? All we know is that these sensational property-and-company-owning tycoons never showed at the Voile d’Or, Cap Ferrat. Did they ever intend to mount the air for the Cote d’Azur? Was it a false boarding? A decoy? Did they go to Glastonbury, suddenly becoming Hippies or whatever one is at a pop festival, even though in a tent with a silver cow creamer and salad service? Did they go to Greece, as Robert Nevil suggests (see comments on the last posting) and, driven to it by that awful rubbery haloumi, launch out wildly into the sea, intending never to return?

As we know, with Poor Little Rich Gays, anything is possible. There could be a complete reinvention, a total abandonment at any moment.

The Multis were here Last Night. Does it Look Familiar?

The Multis were here Last Night. But Where?

Sunday 27th June 2010

Much to report. Poor Little Rich Gays by the sea: average cost of a bungalow on the Cap – 7 million euros etc. Romantic garden dinner for Ralph Kitto’s 50th birthday last night. There’ll be an outpouring soon.

I completely forgot to tell you: you must rush to The Library at Brompton Cross, premier frock shop. I was there on Wednesday. They were watching the England match on a computer. ‘Don’t mind me,’ I said, thinking to lift a lot of frockage.  The stunning Indian Price behind the counter (shoulder-length hair, London voice, whip-thin) was manly and fuming in some exceptional outfit at the failures of Rooney.

All the Paulo Pecora is 50% off – i.e. about £65. Shirts, short sleeve, long sleeve. I got a white  long-sleeve with sateen trimming and a thin grey band inside the collar. Quite exquisite. Thrilled with it. Also a summer short-sleeved with ruching in mysterious dusty mauve and another in the tie-and-dye mode, done so the pattern all fits together. But you can only see this when it’s on.

Do dash and buy.

My Paulo Pecora Summer Shirt from The Library £65

Saturday 26^th June 2010

So much to tell. Disparate Poor Little Rich Gays are foregathered in Cap Ferrat for Ralph Kitto’s 50^th birthday. But it turns out we know people who know…  we’re all connected, bound in a web, unbeknownest. Simeon Bond, the banker and patron of the arts, is here! I couldn’t believe it. Nearly fell off the Cap. I thought he was in a different branch of the Poor Little Rich Gays altogether, friend of Harry Rollo, the impresario and performance artist. Some others, never met by me before (one’s a flower arranger, the other builds hospitals) are friends of  Ed Jasper, the bed linen expert, and recently had him to stay at their house in the Cotswolds.

So God meant the Poor Little Rich Gays, you can be sure of that.

But the Multis! Where are these property-empire-building,company-owning tycoons?  You do hear things. You know they were supposed, by pure coincidence, being some of the few who don’t know Ralph Kitto, to be at the Voile d’Or, here in Cap Ferrat, from Thursday. Their flight to Nice was cancelled. But did they take another? Since then there’s been nothing but unexplained photographs of gorgeous living from the Photographer Multi. They’re alive – up until midday today at least.  But what about the picture of the abandoned shoes on a beach – if that’s what it is? See below.

I texted as soon as I gained the Hotel le Panoramic yesterday, especially since the panorama turned out to be their hotel, the Voile, at 600 euros a night, 600% more expensive.

No reply – until this morning, and then it was just graphs.

My theory is they’ve gone to Glastonbury, to that music festival. The Blond Multi does like pop music. The Photographer Multi once graphed the owner. And there were those Druidical tendencies apparent earlier in the week, the sudden interest in Midsummer rites. Somehow they’ve got a tent with a silver cow creamer in it (see graph below) and gracious salad service.

Let us pray for their safe return.

Abandoned Multi Shoes! Have they Run Away to Sea, Leaving Style-Statement on the Beach?

Cow-Creamer, Possibly in the Multis' Tent at Glastonbury

Salad Possibly Served in the Multis' Tent at Glastonbury

Thursday 24th June 2010

Last night the Multis were at the Wolseley with Dawn French. See graph below to gain the sense of ‘with’.

This morning word came through that their boarding for Nice and the Voile d’Or at Cap Ferrat was blocked by strike action in France; surely not again! You recall that their outing to Athens a month ago was cancelled because of the BA strike.

But now graphs are coming through of luxury life. But where it is being held? I’ve begged for enlightenment but no reply.

Can you guess?

Dawn French at the Wolseley last night

The Multis' Square Dinner this Evening. But Where?

The Multis' Luxury This Evening. But Where? Where are the Multis?

Thursday 24^th June 2010

I’m suffering from Pre-Boarding Tension, especially now the Multis have failed to board for the second time owing to strike action. They were due at the Voile d’Or at Cap Ferrat (578 euros a night), if you recall, while my lodgement is nearby at the two-star Panoramic. It is not yet known if they can be conveyed.

On Sunday I will gaze in person on the now legendary Menton villa party of Robert Nevil, Joshua Baring and Blanche Spain who have exhibited so excellently the Type 2 Poor Little Rich Gay holiday. Type 1, as you know, is taken by the exhausted entrepreneur (PLRGs are rarely employees) and is the equivalent of full hospitalisation. Type 2, it has to be said, suits the more financially efficient PLRGs and their followers. It has two main features: massive queenaria and loveliness re: food and even re-styling of the villa or hotel AND highly unlikely sight-seeing driven by contempt for the main attractions. It goes without saying, both Types offer scope for grandeur and attitude.

The Menton Party have made a point of graves, Beardsley’s and Edward Lear’s (but the Foce cemetery at San Remo too far gone for PLRGs to tidy, Joshua Baring reports), monuments to minor Royalty of La Belle Époque (look accent!), whose ghosts haunt the Côte, Robert Nevil says, Latin plaques (wrong, apparently, according to Blanche Spain) commemorating the visit of Queen Victoria and villas called ‘Balmoral’.

A highlight was the Villa Ephrussi-Rothschild at Cap Ferrat. The Rothschilds are of course relations of Joshua Baring. Oh yes! In at the top floor.  Béatrice Rothschild dug up and threw away the entire hillside to make way for her garden. That is was in the late 19^th. She filled her villa with Fragonards and Bouchers of ladies in bed, having turned to the ‘ladyparts’, as the French guideexplained, after apparently being infected with syphilis by her Russian banker husband (still too delicate to mention after all these years, I suppose). Her shopping method was to summon works of art by train, have them unloaded onto the station platform, inspect and then either purchase or return.

Could we try this at home?

Better-known attractions of course disappointed. The Musée International de la Parfumerie has been struck out by Joshua Baring: ‘dull and EU’. The Fondation Maeght: ‘hideous daubs, dreadful applied art’, the only attraction a worker with a spanner, not art but real.

Now food: I’m running out of time and I’ve outfits to plan for the cocktail party at Villefranche tomorrow night followed by the actual 50^th Birthday dinner for Ralph Kitto at the Cap on Saturday as well as a travelling outfit and two day outfits. I’m back on Sunday.

At Taggia, absolutely unknown village, the Menton party were told the kitchen was closed. No lunch. Unthinkable. The kitchen was opened. Back home at the villa, Robert Nevil and Joshua Baring are unthawed and give the shopkeepers the time of their lives. Remember, staff of Poor Little Rich Gays should never have known such splitting of sides, nor such terror. The result at Menton: they are showered with free produce by grateful merchants. Shopping is precise, needle-sharp. Local produce, dishes of the region, only the best. At the table there are garnishes (‘a petal or one tiny…snail’, Blanche Spain informs) as well as ‘hot and cold running fizzy and flat.’

Dinner is Served at Menton

Unknown Royal Greatnesses Remembered

Gardens at Villa Ephrussi-Rothschild, Cap Ferrat

Balmoral at Menton - Look Carefully at the Top of the House

Wednesday 23^rd June 2010

I’m sorry. I promised to be back on Monday with the latest from Menton. But there have been distractions and agony. I’m trying to raise money. Unspeakable.

And then, on Monday, the Multis offered up their wrap-around terrace (2000 square feet if it’s a day) as a viewing platform for the midsummer sunset. Virgil Grayson, architect of  international reputation, Bruce MacBain, my own architect, Marcus Coleman, England’s leading clock-mender, Prince Dmitri Hersov and Tancredo Viamare, partner of Bruce MacBain, were present at the dinner.

The Blond Multi in particular craves the grandeur of the open sky. ‘Can we see it?  Is it happening yet?’ he kept saying as the hour approached. It was the first of the fine days we’re now having. From 8 o’clock or so the Multis’ panorama of all London and the countryside beyond turned apricot. Then, the sun set in the West, now glowing scarlet behind clouds.

We wondered if there are some things money can’t buy. But the penthouse, on the 12^th floor, with its terraces, making the view possible – that cost money.

After dark, the Multis produced some astonishing lanterns, bought specially. They really were sparing no efforts to style and lift midsummer’s day. Perhaps they are growing druidical. Next year, will it be the Henge?

They’ve also been gardening. The Blond Multi has a delightful geranium corner, all self-done. The Photographer Multi personally tends the rest, with excellent results. See graphs. What combinations!

The Blond Multi's Geranium Corner

Stunning Plant Combinations by the Photographer Multi

A Lib-Con Moment in the Garden According to the Photographer Multi

Midsummer Lantern Makes a Stunning Effect

Sunday 20^th June 2010

I’m known for my patience but this English summer grey and cold has gone too far. Let’s transport to blazing blue and pink Menton, on France’s Cote d’Azur (sorry no accents) where Robert Nevil, historian of the Pony Club, Blanche Spain, England’s leading wordswoman, and Joshua Baring, young, coming, knows all the restaurants, are lodged in a high-level villa for three weeks.

There are two kinds of PLRG holiday, one resembles full hospitalisation, the other is not so much a visit as a take-over.

The Menton party are having the other. You know from yesterday that they have been tidying graves. Now hear from Blanche Spain herself. Oh lucky readers, this is exclusive direct from the heights of English prose today:

‘Fancies of finochietto melted onto crostini over barely shivering flame for hours, exquisite tablescapes, fresh cut flowers; you cannot leave RN alone lest he find yet another way to render elegant the life, deadhead the pelargonia, capture the jacaranda’s deep blue tinge against the mouldering rosy buildings, meanwhile attired in an array of linens that would shame forever the holidaying Mandelson of last year at Corfu.’

You shall just have this glimpse for now. Come back tomorrow for more bold and glorious ventures in cuisine, rare, rare sight-seeing (the Lesbian Rothschild villa) and a pinch of light but loving sneering at petunias.

Blanche Spain's Specs Wrought into a Riviera Scene

Lovely Petunias at the Casino Municipale San Remo

A Riviera Look - But Do Not Mock. It is Its Own Thing

Saturday 19th June 2010

Am weakened and bloodless after the Sales. Much to tell but it’ll have to wait. Meanwhile news is flooding in from the Cote d’Azur.  Robert Nevil, Joshua Baring and Blanche Spain have been tidying the grave of Beardsley. Have you heard of him?  He was a weirdo. Did drawing. Round about the time of O. Wilde.  Look at the lovely weather they’re having. See before and after graphs below. Tomorrow, more Menton antics! See you then!

Robert Nevil writes: ‘Breaking news: PLRGs au tombeau de Beardsley. We toiled this morning up the hill above le Vieux Menton to le Cimetière du Trabuquet with a small posy of lavender, pelargoniums and wisteria picked in the terraced gardens of the Villa Ganymède, where we are lodged. Aubrey Beardsley himself is now lodged (permanently) under marble slab with ceramic-flower-bedecked cross (roses and pansies)  looking out over the rooftops of le Vieux Menton  to blue seas beyond. Had to remove a horrid white plastic pot of yellow kalanchoe before laying our own tribute.  Not sure whether or not AB was truly PLRG, but very stylish, obsessed by sex, and knew all the right (i.e. wrong) people. Only 25, poor darling.’

Beardsley's Grave BEFORE PLRGs set to work this morning

Beardsley's Grave after Re-Styling by PLRGs this morning. Unfort no Vim to remove ring left by pot

Friday 18th June 2010

Yes! The Sales!  Earlier and earlier. At Christmas they say, ‘We hear once again the message of the angels…’ But that’s only once a year. Twice a year we see once again the sale signs and pour forth.

On Wednesday I covered Harvey Nicks and The Library – top frock shops. Harrods is tomorrow at 9 a.m. I shall be beating at the door.

Remember my sale-time pearls:

• Target and focus: review your wardrobe. What is missing? In my case, I need another summer suit, good summer slacks which are not jeans and a black summer shirt, fitted, perhaps in a light jersey fabric – I’m inspired and seething after seeing such a piece by Paolo Pecora on one of the kitchens at The Library. But it was last season so I can’t have it!  I mean that particular one which I would skin off him if I could, except it’s a doll’s size.
• Do not despair in these agonising times of no credit. Just a few new pieces will lift and revive your entire wardrobe
• Remember: the true path is: all shops must be visited. You should have completed your pre-Sales recce in the last three weeks. You probably haven’t. But there is still time. Do not panic. If a piece is meant for you it will wait. Try on, consider, but don’t buy until you have bathed in the entire stock of all the shops in London – or foreign or US if you’re there
• Procedure when actually in the shop: work quickly. Learn to assess size and suitability of garments on the hanger. Be selective about what to try on, but do try on and try on. Often the piece will only blossom for you once on
• Assess the stock. If there are heaps and heaps of the same item, the price will probably come down later on in the sale. Wait and pounce

HOT TIPS FOR JUNE 2010 SALES:

• H Nicks – abundance of Dries van Noten shirts, blue stripy with brown collar. Good. Price will surely come down
• The Library – masses of Paulo Pecora. Summer shirts. Lots of pink. Good shirt and jumper designer, interesting detail, good price pre-sale. Now only 30 per cent off. Not enough. Wait.

Poor Little Rich Gays here and throughout the world – may every blessing pour down upon you at sale time

Wednesday 16^th June 2010

Hotels, villas, villas, hotels!  The Poor Little Rich Gay summer  holiday season is underway. Which means only one thing, or should do – hospital levels of inertia, complete immersion in decor, service, towels, bed linen, menus and treatment rooms.

Blanche Spain, Robert Nevil and Joshua Baring are at Menton. We shall be hearing from them in due. Meanwhile, Harry Rollo, the impresario and performance artist, as well as one of our most prominent Poor Little Rich Gays, known  here and throughout the world, is being reassembled, apparently alone, at La Residencia, after a gruelling tour.  You remember he said last week there were no PLRGs there, only old footballers. But they have been there, I can tell you. Robin Smallmeal, head of landfill in this country or whatever, was there with his partner, Simon Limpney, who had to be air-lifted out after the treatments proved too gruelling. Harry is not taking the treatments. In fact he describes the hotel as charming and simple, not good enough for Sir Alec Guinness, plagued by nightingales, but if you don’t want the treatments (sauna, spa, facial, pins stuck in, hot stones, birch twigs, mud, seaweed, acid attack, sandpapering, planing – go on , La Res, sue!), you might as well take a simple pensione nearby.

But I don’t think Poor Little Rich Gays could manage without La Residencia. Even the austere Lord Arrowby has hovered nearby. The Multis flew out for a weekend with the head of the rival landfill outfit to Smallmeal’s.

Harry has engayed his vacation (i.e. given it a hospital/clinic/treatment emphasis – Smallmeal is always carried on holiday, never walks, although able) by concentrating on restaurants. See graphs below. The one you see has a water menu and a choice of five local olive oils carried around on a special table by the staff. Harry had guinea-fowl with prawns and lemon sauce and choc fondant with marzipan ice-cream. The second time he went there he at last saw the gays. You always do in the end. German couple, 20 year age gap at least, wedding rings, older, noble, Rolex, often consulted, the younger, with arms folded, slyly looking at Harry. The senior, on rising for the loo, was revealed to be SHORT.

So much to bear. Somehow they knew that Harry was texting about them. Gays sense these things. They made a grand exit with matching leather clutch bags.

Restaurant with Water Menu Enjoyed by Harry Rollo in Marjorca

Table Carried Round by Waitress to Present 5 Olive Oils at Restaurant Enjoyed by Harry Rollo

Guinea-fowl with Prawns and Lemon Sauce Taken by Harry Rollo in Marjorca