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Tuesday, July 29, 2014

Blonde


Poppy Delevingne


If anyone is entitled to tall poppy syndrome it's Ms Delevingne, no not the puckish Cara but her ethereal sister Poppy.
Currently London's reigning  It Blonde, she can go from glacial to pretty, sophisticated to playful, wanton to innocent, in a swish of snowy mane. 
Some are born blonde, some achieve it through artifice but The Blonde remains one of our most beguiling archetypes. 
Painters have clothed her in oils, poets have wreathed her in words and Raymond Chandler didn't want anyone other than her to walk into a smoky bar trailing trouble not far behind. 
Like most northern Europeans I was blonde up until the age of three, one day I may just go back. 


















Monday, July 28, 2014

Whatever


81 year old Joan is on - I want it.

St Tropez - our very own LA, where age is just a number.



Sunday, July 27, 2014

Schnitzel & Schnapps


Fischer's, Marylebone High Street, London.

I love Corbin & King, no they're not a perma-tanned pop duo from the 1970's but London's leading purveyors of Mittel European cafe culture. Every time I go to London I go to the Wolseley, 
where I even mange to swallow down  eggs in the  cheerily jonquil form of  their delicious lobster omelette  -  who can refuse opening their moth ridden purse when the bill is presented with such exquisite aplomb?





Fischer's is their latest Viennese whirl.
Schnitzel, brotchen, strudel, tortes mit schlag,  I could stay here all day roughly hewing my own Hansel & Gretel house which is how I used to send myself off to  the land of Nod as a child - rafters of Viennese fingers and a crazy paving path of broken sachertorte. 

Is it not the Grand Budapest Hotel, hewn from rich mahogany and scented with  beeswax?
If only Mr Gustave could be my date, remember, he likes the oldies.


"I've had older"








Sorry to ruffle so many feathers the other day, yes I have changed the blog name, it's all about Badinage here now. 

Faffing - I have had so many "Disgusted of Indiana" emails about this, no I am not swearing, it is not in any way  related to the f word but blundering British style   - think Hugh Grant in his films, he's the ultimate faffer. 
So new name, new email, massive fail on changing the blog address so far.
So badinage and all that, hopefully the odd bit of persiflage and bonhomie

Oh it's a party now, chink!