A day in the life/a life in the day…
Up and down Ladbroke Grove as usual, with some kind of buggy/bike combo, yesterday’s shorts and a pyjama shirt half-disguised under my trusty duffle.
To the top of the Centrepoint tower for a shoot at the Paramount Club on the 31st Floor. (Does this count as altitude –training? Maybe not in Chanel ankle boots?) I’m styling too so dragging my battered Prada suitcase full to bursting with possible personalities - long velvet Issa, a faded vintage pink poppy-print prom dress, assorted hats). Sometimes a day just makes you happy to be home and I fall in love with London all over again as I climb to the bar somewhere in the sky, from where the view is somehow both shockingly romantic and slightly surreal as the Monopoly board landmarks turn into a playground for the Tonka-toy buses and taxis looping-the-loop.
Waiting for lunch….
I’m eating for England (a different kind of training…I WILL make it up that mountain!) and lunch was at least two hours ago so where else but Claridge’s for a brainstorming tea. The real deal: scones and cream and jam and cucumber sandwiches and sculptured chocolate galleons like Philip Treacy hats in miniature…with the leftovers wrapped up for later.
Love the idea of Jack Nicholson watching over me at Claridge’s….
As always at a dangerously seductive grand old hotel I fantasise about checking in (or checking out?), extra-tempting as I’m still dragging that suitcase around-with enough clothes for all possible occasions for at least a week. I relax into the alternate golden-mirrored universe of the classic bar where Champagne is offered at teatime as a matter of course - as if it would be rude not to - and the comforting red leather soaks up the c...