It has been a while

I have been a bad blogger of late.  My excuse?  Far too much fun in and out of London. 

I've been missing the beaches of Perth and desperate to get some water-side action in.  This desperation saw me convince a group of friends to picnic by, and swim in, the Hampstead swimming ponds.  These are ponds that are set aside for swimming in the Heath.  Admittedly, the fact they are swimming ponds does not mean they are devoid of your average park pond features.   As you swim, you are more than likely to have a duck swim past your head and some slime press against your leg.  And on getting out of the water I did have to wipe the mud and silt off my skin.  But it was worth it to  have that fabulous feeling of immersing myself in cold water outside on a hot day.

Next up was Love Box, a music festival in Victoria Park.  A group of us bought tickets to the Saturday session on 17 July.  We began the day with a very large breakfast before joining the masses at the park.  Once again I got the opportunity (last had at Primavera) to hoot and howl to Wild Beats and to dance myself silly.  An unexpected highlight of the day was seeing Jay Electronica.  He was a last minute addition to Love Box and, perhaps because of this,  there was a very small group of people watching him.  He obviously decided that it was time to get the crowd a bit more fired up, so jumped from the stage mid-set and into the crowd, politely asking disinterested people standing around to get involved and "put their hands up".  He also decided to hand the mic around, and let everyone who wanted to have a go.  It made for a pretty unusual but hilarious spectacle.  The only downside to the day was a complete absence of mobile reception in the park, meaning that after wandering off for drinks or loo breaks a lot of time was then spent trying to find one another without the benefit of modern means of communication.  

It has also been a month of sleb spotting (this time only minor slebs - Mark Warren and Abbey Titmus) at XO in Belsize Park.  And a month of theatre (the Prince of Homberg at the Donmar).  I have also developed a passion for running.  This will no doubt surprise anyone who knew me back in high school, when I did my very best to avoid Phys Ed classes.  In fact, I was so successful in coming up with excuses as to why I couldn't participate, that eventually they took my name off the Phys Ed roll and didn't expect me to turn up to class any more.   How things change!

We have also been travelling, spending a long weekend in Dubrovnik.  But I'll leave that to another blog post.   

On top of that, we've had some house guests for the last week.  These were rather unusual house guests, in that we were sad to see them go. 

Finally, it would not be life without a minor disaster. The disaster this month involved a broken fridge, some smelly spoiled food and discovering that the previous owners did not leave space for the cord for a new fridge to be fed down to the power point.  Thankfully we discovered that it's relatively easy to create new holes in old walls.

I have been a bad blogger lately but I'm going to resume my regular blogging now, even if I don't have much to say (and even if no one reads this blog). I'm promising myself to check in at least once a week, so I'll see you soon. 

My fight with a certain orange-haired fashion designer (I'll call her a "certain designer", or CD)

Last night I went to a party at G's boss' house, told CD she is an idiot and seemingly caused her to leave.  This was not how the night was meant to go. 

The party was a housewarming party in South London.  G's boss' wife has a reasonably high media profile meaning that, amongst the riff raff (being G and I), there were BBC presenters, the Attorney General and even CD.  

CD stood out from the crowd.  I would like to say that it was because her outfit was stunning but that would be a lie.  Aside from some poorly-applied makeup and the flaming orange hair, she looked like an old woman (I just found out she's only 69 but, at the time, assumed she was in her 80s).  I would love to pretend that I am so cool that I didn't care but, sadly, I  was not immune to the sparkle of celebrity.  From the start, what limited coolness that I like to think I possess departed and I was dying to speak to her. 

Most of the evening she seemed to be sitting on her own, occasionally holding court to young women who would wander up to her.  Finally, one of those young women (M) was someone I knew.  I saw an in. 

Along with a friend, K, I went up to CD and sat next to her, pretending that I was hoping to speak to M.  K and I realised, once we sat down, that we were walking into a dying conversation.  M was trying to explain to CD her job as a management consultant.  CD kept interrupting her and saying "I just don't know what you mean.  Those words mean nothing to me.  I don't understand anything you are saying".  M was looking rather flustered and frustrated at this point.  So K kindly decided to try and save her.   Unfortunately, it seemed the only thing that K could think of to say at this point was a comment she and I had made to one another jokingly a couple of hours (and several proseccos) earlier.  That is, that my dress was the same colour as CD's hair and K's dress was the same colour as CD's outfit.  In other words, that we looked like a deconstructed version of CD.  CD was not impressed.  At that point, she turned to me and said "what is she saying?  Why is she waving her hands?  What does this mean?".  Things were not going well. 

The mistake I made was then to try and engage CD in conversation.  I should have realised I was walking into a train wreck and just left.  Sadly, I didn't.  I asked CD how she knew the host of the party and somehow (and I'm really not sure how) that turned into her telling me about her concerns with climate change.  She spent some time telling me about some theory to do with the earth being like a goddess.  It's alive, she told me, looking at me earnestly.  It doesn't reproduce but I don't reproduce and I'm not dead, she said.  The theory (or at least her explanation of it) sounded completely mad and so I latched onto the only thing I thought of as safe ground (ie, the only bit I thought I followed) and asked whether the theory was based on some sort of religion or spirituality.  That was a mistake.  "I'm an atheist.  Aren't you? Do you believe in something else?".  The fact I do believe in something else did not go down well at all.  Once again, the conversation was going downhill. Then she mentioned politics and I latched onto that, thinking it was my life raft to get out of the spirituality quagmire.  What a mistake! 

CD spent some time telling me that democracy was wrong.  That it was the worst form of government and far worse than any of the other forms of government out there.  I confess that, while I knew of her anarchist beliefs in her youth, it was difficult for me to believe that the old woman sitting next to me genuinely held such silly views.  She did not ask me my own views (she was more interested in holding court than she was in talking) but I simply had to ask her what system she would replace democracy with.  This is the conversation that resulted, to the best of my recollection.  I have avoided the temptation to make myself sound more articulate than I in fact was.  Please bear that in mind when reading the below! 

CD looked at me aghast.  With her voice becoming more and more shrill with every word she responded: "I don't know.  I don't know what system I'd replace it with but that doesn't mean it is the best.  I don't think like Churchill said that it is the best because I can't think of what I would replace it with.  Do you?"

"It has its flaws, but I do agree that there seems nothing better out there and so I am happy with it."

"That's because you haven't thought about it."

"I have thought about it.  Many people have thought about it.  But to date no one seems to come up with something better."

"so you think it is the best system there could ever be??"

"no, I didn't say that.  I said I don't know what I would replace it with and I'm happy with it."

"So now you are changing your words.  You said best."

"No, no I'm not.  I just think it is interesting that you criticise it so vehemently but you can't tell me what you would replace it with, simply that it is terrible."

"It is rubbish.  You just have never thought about the matter.  You are just an idiot."

At that point, I confess I saw red.  It wasn't so much the fact she called me an idiot as the dismissive tone in which she did it.  It was also accompanied by a wave of the hand, as though she had decided she had her time with me and now I should simply leave, as she had exhausted my  use.  All celebrity sparkle had well and truly departed by this point.  All I saw before me was a silly and rude woman.

"I have thought about it.  I can assure you.  It seems you haven't.  You criticise the system, you criticise anyone who doesn't, but you can't offer any alternative.  Given all of that, I think it is very interesting that it is YOU who is calling ME the idiot!!". 

At that point, I decided it was time to leave.  Conscious that I was at G's boss' party, I wanted to be civil as I left, so stood and said "well, I will move on, but it has been interesting..."

"interesting, you keep using that word 'interesting'.  It hasn't been interesting. It hasn't been anything". 

"you are quite right" I said, turning my back on her and walking off. 

Moments later, G's boss came up to me.  I see you have offended one of our guests, he said.   Thankfully he seemed entertained rather than annoyed.  I looked around the room but CD had seemingly left the party.  I would be very surprised if I had actually caused offence.  The woman seemed to regard any one else's opinion so poorly that I doubt mine would have affected her.  After all, she did not ever even ask my name.  Nonetheless, I was mortified.  I did not think the story would have made it to the host.  The next ten minutes confirmed, however, that every single person in the party had heard the story, and the fact I had insulted CD and turned my back on her.  It became the story of the night, with no one quite able to believe that I had managed to insult a Dame.  Not a good introduction to G's work colleagues.  Thankfully, everyone seemed to find it amusing, with the general consensus being that the woman is quite mad.

The Attorney General was also at last night's party (wearing some bright red cord trousers).  Thankfully I didn't try to talk to him.  I also don't think he made the mistake of trying to talk to CD.

At least the next time I see a genuine celebrity I suspect I will find there is no celebrity sparkle there.  In fact, I might just run the other way.

Postscript: on a COMPLETELY unrelated note, since I posted the above someone has drawn my attention to this story regarding Ms Vivienne Westwood (who, I note, as NOTHING TO DO with this post, really!).  It doesn't surprise me.