Lagerfeld confidential

Finally got round to watching 'Lagerfeld Confidential', a very interesting comparison to 'The September Issue' the other week. While the latter is an entertaining advertisement for Vogue, which reveals that Anna Wintour is a stellar business woman but not (whisper it) very interesting, Lagerfeld Confidential is remarkably light on Chanel, and big on Karl and his personal myth.

Having seen various rather sensationalised Karl quotes, i was ready to find said myth deeply irritating, but in fact warmed to the man who 'detests' people who can't be alone; values his photography, music and reading as much as the clothes; keeps his private life private even when sharing himself on film; hates to be dependent; and can contemplate his own death with the comfort of philosophy but not of religion. Not so fond of his penchant for off-colour jokes, but at least it makes him human. Love seeing him at work at his photography and illustration - the man is essentially an artist. And totally envious of his huge library.

Plaudits also to whoever chose the Lightning Seeds' 'Pure' as the opening song - reminded me yet again that it is possibly the most perfect pop song ever recorded - catchy, bouncy and ephemeral, with lyrics of love and rainbows but heartbreak in a minor key at its core.

Pepper & jasmine

I wish I was one of those people who find a signature scent. There's something very classy about it, and with smell being such a powerful memory trigger I do love the fact that I can always associate some of my friends with a particular perfume. But the fact is that I am a perfume whore - at the present count I appear to have 2 pillow sprays, 1 eau de cologne, 3 body sprays, 2 body splashes, 5 scented oils and 11 perfumes - not to mention untold scented unguents (or 'smellies' as my unimpressed family would call them) and a tendency to borrow my husband's aftershave...

I can at least pride myself on a certain consistency of unusual taste. In the collection above, there are only a handful (courtesy of Chanel, Calvin Klein, Clarins and the Body Shop) that most people would recognise, and they'd be the first to go if I had a cull.

My favourites in type are probably the scented oils, which last better, especially the body shop's old 'woody sandalwood' (bought in Italy after they stopped selling it here) and the Egyptian lotus oil. Hakansson's curious lotion-perfume 'The Scent', though too leaky to take on holiday any more, will always remind me of my wedding and honeymoon with a cheerful, light formula of bergamot and flowers. The kings of odd perfume are of course Comme des Garcons, and I am proud to have converted at least one of my friends to their lovely and subtle rhubarb confection, though not surprised to have few supporters for the industrial no.73. I have winter scents by Lalique, Anna Sui, Kiehl's and Korres, with a preponderance of exotic woods, fig, pepper and jasmine. In summer the winner is alway's Fresh's 'Hesperides', by far the nicest citrus scent I have come across, or one of the floral oils. Maybe I won't provoke strong memory triggers in other people, but at least I have a smell to associate with every place and season.

Hello again!

How nice to see you - it's been too long. How was summer for you? I know I had a summer lull at work. I know this by the fact that it is now over. But I can't say I noticed it at the time. They did invite me to another, less surreal dinner the other day though. Hoss Intropia may have the oddest name of any shop but they sure can shape a wonderful little, black, velvet, backless, waist-whittling, leg-lengthening dress. Sadly, these things can have a sting in the tail - literally, as they appear to have sewn a small drawing pin into the hem. Gonna have to work on that one...

I was very amused the other day when I had a meeting with someone in the margins of a training course, where they had been learning about cats and dogs.
The dog says:
'You feed me, you give me somewhere to sleep and lots of love and attention - you must be a god!'
The cat says:
'You feed me, you give me somewhere to sleep and lots of love and attention - I must be a god.'
For a seminar on personal impact, the message is an interesting one. I think the point was to do with how you adapt your style to 'cat' or 'dog' people, but what happens when two cats meet? Just as in nature, it could go either way...

The awards will a-begin in a-FIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIVE a-minutes!

So last week saw my first ever black tie work-related event as our contractors sponsored a table at the National Business Awards south east regional final. It was at the Park Lane Hilton, with that Katy Dearham off the telly and the voiceover man from the weakest link... the mind boggles as to what they do for the national ceremony.

There is something very surreal about voiceovers with dinner. Likewise about being the only female on a table of eight random men, all representing different enterprises including software, police data and, err, turning cremated remains into diamonds...(they won a prize - a reasonably elegant trophy with small circles within a hoop).

That said there were some very charming and interesting people, widely worked and travelled. We had an interesting debate about the profit motive, which my neighbour viewed as about success not money - to me that's somewhat missing the point that it defines success as money, but we agreed to differ. On the bright side, my admission of my connections with tax did not result in a lynching, and I was declared to have the best hair of the evening, at least for a tax person - always a good result when not actually entered for any awards. My colleague actually had to present a prize, an ordeal full of bright lights, opening of envelopes and giant close ups of his face on a big screen, not to mention photo opportunities. I was happy to applaud politely, and toast the winners with the rather good free wine. Enterprise is a wonderful thing.

Egypt overwhelms

So, having said I had loads to talk about after our Egyptian holiday I then got writer's block - the truth is I just can't begin to capture it. There was so much there that it's fused into a single big blob in my head. I've said to a few people since we got back that I had no idea how many monuments there were, or the scale of them. The only comparison I've been able to think of is if Stonehenge appeared every few miles along the Thames... and was covered in astonishing carvings. Not to mention the 63 tombs or rooms so far in the Valley of the Kings and all the more 'minor' stuff that they don't bother dragging the tourists to or that's drowned under lake Nasser.

In a way it was wonderful to get so close to the monuments, and I can see what a huge task it would be to protect them all fully, but it was also alarming to see the darkening on places where tourists and guides touch the carving to point something out. The most depressing thing I saw was a blob of gum on one carved block at Philae temple - unbelievable philistinism. At least some of the tomb paintings are behind sheets of perspex.
It was also troubling that, although I am sure archaologists and egyptologists the world over are working on cataloging and interpreting the miles and miles of carvings and paintings on the temples and tombs there was very little evidence of any such systematic process. Aside from some book shops in Cairo, it's hard to get any record besides some very shoddy tourist guides and postcards, although doubtless amazon could oblige.

The thought that the bright colours still visible in many tombs would also have covered the temples is truly staggering - I can't think of a building that would create such an impact, or at least not in the same way.

Fun fact of the day - there were seven cleopatras. The one we all know about was the last.

And another thing that hasn't changed....

... is the crocodiles! Yes that is my hand on the right, holding today's version of the ancient carving on the left. It had rather alarming teeth but was pleasantly cool to the touch on a hot morning. We're told the larger version nowadays are all up behind the High Dam in Lake Nasser...

There, doesn't that make it all better?

Ok so this is just a ludicrously cute kitten. But one of the reasons I could spend so long watching Egyptian cats, besides the cuteness, is the way they clearly haven't changed since pharaohnic times. They are all skinny - not unhealthy, just right for the heat and for an un-pampered, un-western existence. Their small bodies, big ears and lined eyes are an exact match for the statuette of Bast in the British Museum, or in the Gayer-Anderson House in Cairo. They stalk the same birds close to the river.

It's sometimes difficult to get a real sense of history in the temples and tombs when they are full of people, but the cats have it. Watching the banks of the Nile as we cruised was a similar feeling. Palm trees, small farms, mud brick houses, cows and water buffalo, all more or less as they would have been at least hundreds if not thousands of years previously. The weather seems to add to the continuity in very practical ways - it helps to preserve both the monuments and a certain way of life, at least outside the cities.

So May was silence month - again...

Sorry about that. But I have now been to Egypt and am therefore flooded with stuff to talk about. I could mention the Cairo traffic, the numerous amazing monuments we saw, the heat, the various maladies, the sheer filmic glory of the Nile cruise... but first I should discuss the ancient egyptian art of towel origami.

You heard me. It's a nice touch by the cleaners on board the MS Stephanie (and, for all I know, every other boat out there). You return to find your beds made and your quarters adorned with a cunningly constructed towelling sculpture, occasionally finished with your sunhat or some other helpful item. I was very impressed. I applauded the swan, the lotus, the monkey-bat (we have a domestic disagreement about this one - it swung from the ceiling and had bat ears but it wasn't upside down), the rabbit-dog and the beautiful peacock (as above - crest artfully fashioned from toilet paper).

I am surely not the only person in the world, though, who found the towel 'mummy' more than a little disturbing:

He was right inside the door, very much life size, but worst of all he just looked so sad!

Next - adorable Egyptian kittens to heal the trauma...

Writer's dilemma

So having 'finished' my novel while on sabbatical last year, I am now wrestling with the conundrum of how to know when it is really finished, to the extent that I will be happy to send it out and be judged by it.

One criterion was length - I had in my mind a minimum word count for credibility, below which it was feeling more like a novella, but I have now passed that magic figure.

I don't want to be one of the people who does 17 versions of their novel over almost as many years - and in fact it's rarely in my nature to re-write anything too much, the patience wears off. But I take it as a good sign that if anything my interest in 'Mother of the World' is increasing - I still keep having good ideas to flesh out the characters, having been told be several people that I may be 'under-writing', and they are definitely real people now who haunt my head whenever they get the chance.

I'm also having fun reading over each of the main characters' stories separately to check for internal consistency. And then of course there's the fact that I'm actually going to Cairo in May, having written about it from second hand accounts, so that's bound to give me ideas.

Guess it might be a month or two yet...

Mayor alert

Saw Boris Johnson on the escalators at London Bridge this week, with just one companion. This almost makes me believe he could be a fit mayor of London after all - I do love a politician who is not afraid of public transport, not to mention the public. I'd still bring back Ken though...