Paris was a blast. Thought I was being clever booking the train and it worked perfectly until I was on the way back. Had booked first class and was busy working on my laptop and feeling extremely smug about how much I was getting done thanks to my little personal plug point at my side when I was unceremoniously kicked off at Marseille due to a technical fault, then missed my connection back to Nice by an hour and finally crawled in at just before 1am. I will try REALLY hard not to moan about easyJet in future.
Highlights in Paris - hanging out at the Lido, watching rehearsals with Amanda in feathery costumes and swapping great gossip with her lovely husband Chris, stopping traffic on the Champs Elysees as we did an impromptu photo shoot in front of the Arc de Triomphe, watching the show that night (it was amazing, camp, kitsch and utterly over the top, like being transported back to the 50s) as the manager told me to order what I liked and they would carry me home (reader, be assured that wasn't necessary,) and gazing at the lit-up-like-a-christmas-tree Eiffel Tower on the way back to the hotel. Only thing I would say is Paris is not a place to be on your own, better when you are with someone, but didn't allow that to cramp my style.
Mooched around the Rue St Honore the next day, checked out the Hotel Costes, truly a cool place to stay, and Colette, which is every bit as good as the hype except the designers featured are Lanvin, Dior, Chanel and therefore suitable for window shopping but defo not buying. Found a great book called I Love Your Style by Amanda Brooks who used to work for Vogue. Full of amazing photos from the past 40 years of style icons, classic, vintage and boho fashion. Perfect reading material for Sunday morning in bed with a cup of tea.
Came home to an empty house as Iain and the girls were in London. Cleaned like a demon (wish I could lose my OCD complex) while playing the Police and the Jam at full volume which would not be acceptable if we were en famille, then ate in the dark (well candlelight) because that is how I like it, while everyone one else likes bright lights illuminating every corner. Funny how rebellion can take on different forms. Having the house to myself for two days was completely lovely although I think it's lovely only because it isn't a permanent situation. Usually I am the one who is away so I never get the chance to clean up and actually see it last. What a novelty to get up the next day and not trip over dirty clothes, towels and duvets strewn across the floor, or find toilets unflushed and countless mugs of cold tea and beakers of rank juice going mouldy. It was joy..but makes me wonder what am I turning into?
Highlights in Paris - hanging out at the Lido, watching rehearsals with Amanda in feathery costumes and swapping great gossip with her lovely husband Chris, stopping traffic on the Champs Elysees as we did an impromptu photo shoot in front of the Arc de Triomphe, watching the show that night (it was amazing, camp, kitsch and utterly over the top, like being transported back to the 50s) as the manager told me to order what I liked and they would carry me home (reader, be assured that wasn't necessary,) and gazing at the lit-up-like-a-christmas-tree Eiffel Tower on the way back to the hotel. Only thing I would say is Paris is not a place to be on your own, better when you are with someone, but didn't allow that to cramp my style.
Mooched around the Rue St Honore the next day, checked out the Hotel Costes, truly a cool place to stay, and Colette, which is every bit as good as the hype except the designers featured are Lanvin, Dior, Chanel and therefore suitable for window shopping but defo not buying. Found a great book called I Love Your Style by Amanda Brooks who used to work for Vogue. Full of amazing photos from the past 40 years of style icons, classic, vintage and boho fashion. Perfect reading material for Sunday morning in bed with a cup of tea.
Came home to an empty house as Iain and the girls were in London. Cleaned like a demon (wish I could lose my OCD complex) while playing the Police and the Jam at full volume which would not be acceptable if we were en famille, then ate in the dark (well candlelight) because that is how I like it, while everyone one else likes bright lights illuminating every corner. Funny how rebellion can take on different forms. Having the house to myself for two days was completely lovely although I think it's lovely only because it isn't a permanent situation. Usually I am the one who is away so I never get the chance to clean up and actually see it last. What a novelty to get up the next day and not trip over dirty clothes, towels and duvets strewn across the floor, or find toilets unflushed and countless mugs of cold tea and beakers of rank juice going mouldy. It was joy..but makes me wonder what am I turning into?
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