At New Year I Ask, What Makes Greatness?

Tuesday 7th January 2014

At Conrad and Valèry’s for New Year, as is now customary: also customary that one world greatness after another looms in their décor. Reggie Cresswell loomed, very careful to reveal little after a rag claimed that he likes white boys as well as black. Harry Rollo loomed. He and Mercury, Mr Kitten have got chummy with another Hollywood Great – but it’s not Diane Keaton nor Jane Fonda. So who? Kathy Lette somehow involved. Rufus Pitman loomed or rather bounced. ‘Gays! Gays!’ he boomed as I sailed through the door, nearly hurling me to the floor. It’s astonishing how exciting the mere fact of Gaiety is even after all these years. It’s still new and different, even to other Gays. Lord Arrowby loomed in an elaborate floral weave jacket, absolutely sensational.

Poor Little Rich Gays are not only looming, but booming, along with the Economy. I’ll say no more. Valèry did dips in different colours, giving a provencal feel. There was a black, an orange and a green. Raj Zoroaster had brought the shepherd’s pie round from his place. He and Rufus have put a big emphasis on left-overs this Christmas. They could do a TV show.

What of the conversation? I said to Lord Arrowby, who runs the country, ‘You’ve got a nice new Defamation Act coming out in January.’ ‘The latest Dries collection demands attention,’ he replied. I tried again, ‘Perhaps you rather overdid the Police nabbing cyclists in London before Christmas.’ ‘Well indeed – do you think it’ll be prints for Spring?’ Rufus Pitman was full, not of Proust, but of how shin of beef must be cooked at a high temperature to get the sinew to turn to jelly.

Guy Bostock had so much swagger he didn’t show at all. His news is that he’s three kilos of sculpted muscle heavier in 2014 than in 2013. His mass is now an erection-inducing 200lbs plus.

Lord Arrowby couldn’t have been more solicitous though, so concerned for my journey home. Bruno-France Bruno, the great mystery Poor Little Rich Gay, was remarkably confidential. Somehow he’s attracting the attention of Russians, he’s worried it’s for the wrong reasons. Great plates have moved in his life that can’t be spoken of. Now he’s at an international level.

Harry Rollo bought some young people and one not quite so young. This latter was in no particular outfit, perhaps a denim shirt, incredibly democratic, very friendly, Australian in fact. Turned out to be the producer of Radiohead, which is a pop group, absolutely huge.  The others seemed to be in the costume world, one in fact possibly working in latex. Harry said he had been graphed from underneath, as in up-the-skirts, I assume, by a renowned grapher I’d never heard of which gob-smacked Lord Arrowby.

That’s enough for now. I haven’t got round to my meditation on What Makes Greatness?

Come back tomorrow for more! Come back! Come back!

Posted Tuesday, January 7, 2014 under Adrian Edge day by day.

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