Its turning into one of those months. I feel like a Fed Ex package. I flew back from New York to London for A NIGHT, in order to give Christian Louboutin his Conde Nast Traveller award. The scoundrel deserves it of course, his new men's shop in Paris is a triumph. Yes men's. Not only has he conquered the world with women's shoes and handbags but now its men too.
And although it looks like I am concentrating wholeheartedly on what he is saying in my Emilia Wickstead
suit and India Hicks diamond earrings
. I am really thinking about how to make it to The Bahamas to see my dogs before returning back to England to be a part of the CNN Diamond Jubilee team and onto Boston to give a talk at the Design Center and wondering if I have actually left a child in the wrong country somewhere along the way.
A rising star. As a mother one dreams of hearing those words.
And now I have a rising star on my hands. My hand cream.
Voted for a 2012 Total Beauty Award.
Domino, the 4 year old, also likes how this hand cream smells and feels, squeezing out the majority of the tube all over her teeny hands, and more recently thought the dachshund needed moisturizing too.
David had a mild mid life crisis and went out and bought a classic car...and then another and another.
I chopped off my hair. Twice in two days.
Last weekend I stayed with dear friends in the Charentes (western part of France, on the edge bit) in their fortified farm which dates from 1428. LE LOGIS DE PUYGATY is so charming in every way I pinterested the hell out of it, including Max being humped by his pet donkey (now you are going to have to look)
They are excellent hosts, Max and Pierre. And decorators and guides and cooks and enthusiasts and baby sitters and zoo keepers. In fact there is not much that Pierre and Max can not offer, my two middle boys put them to the test however. Fascinated by knives, even before we arrived, the boys could not believe their luck upon learning in this part of France, local restaurants only hand you a fork, it is assumed that everyone carries their own knife, hunting, pen or otherwise. The boys began to badger our hosts. They had to find a knife dealer (exactly how I wanted to spend my bank holiday weekend, searching the Charentes for knives) And our hosts did just that. We were taken to the work shop of a true knife artisan, who showed us his extraordinary work, and how he uses the technique of 'folding' the hot metal in order to create the unique patterns on the blades.
A lot of pocket money was spent that afternoon.
Coincidentally a few days after returning to England, from France, we were in the Ashmolean Museum, in Oxford, where the 12 year old had been selected for the Young Oxford Artists competition where he had an unusual drawing on display.
Chasing after a not-so-interested-4-year-old during the presentation we spotted this knife, labeled a Damascene Steel Knife, made up of bands of iron carbide and steel, which allows for an extremely sharp cutting edge. Which made me wonder on what exactly are the boys using their extremely sharp cutting edges?