So It Was On to the Next Function, and Then the Next….

Wednesday 9th October 2014

Knocked out after the fever of Lord Arrowby’s oysters and bare legs, I was conveyed near extinction on Saturday night to the Multis’ new cafe. I don’t even remember my outfit. But bucked up sitting next to Merton Silverwater who’d come down from Hampstead with Vanessa Feltz and two chiwawas – at least so she said, but I never saw them until the very end. They didn’t even squeak. Vanessa had a headache after Yom Kippur and Merton was wearing any shawls and prints with a splendid kite-shaped white plane in between. She goes to trunk sales and is one of the few allowed to order in advance from designers. But she was full of the wonders of Genevieve Suzy, of Dainty Lady TV, at the Photo Multi’s Birthday Party on 1st May at Claridges Hotel. Genevieve’s turquoise kaftan and gold up-do were sensational, Merton said, and Genevieve had insisted that she dance – ‘You only live once,’ Genevieve purred suggestively. Really these married women.  Now Genevieve is moving towards café au lait for St James’ Palace. Oh yes, we meet the Duke of York on Tuesday! I’m to be in Bott Ven if spared. Merton had been to Russia and had a Soviet experience when the Yousoupoff Palace was slammed shut in her face because it was lunch-time even though they’d been queuing for hours.

7 am Sunday, as I’ve said, Val rang and seemed to think it was a sensational brain wave of mine when I suggested he go to hospital if his ankle’s bad. By 10.30 Robert Nevil, Bruce MacBain and myself, Adrian Edge, had gained Great Dixter Plant Fair. We were gestured into our parking space by Fergus himself, only one of the greatest gardeners alive in England. The Fair had stalls from Sweden and Provence. I spotted the platonic ideal of a Robert Nevil lunch guest lunching at his residence – a woman of 90 plus, ‘art’ outfit with jerkin, slab of A-line skirt, rope of hair worn up, chronically flat shoes, usually widow of someone who was willing to help Morgan Forster out in a crisis, booming blue-stocking voice. Later by the clereodendron bungei, we met one of Robert Nevil’s actual committee friends in the Pony Club – again an absolute classic – ragingly middle-class, frightfully energetic, quilted bag and jerkin both in champagne tone, gold chains, rings and earrings. None too bright. She said the Pony Club were putting everything into saving the porch when there was so much else to do.

We bolted off to lunch at the Multis’ nearby demesne. This lunch had had a rocky birth and several times nearly never happened, with an ever-changing guest list as persons were brought in and out of view. But the Multis created a magical Monet-like setting on their terrace with an outdoor lunch in October all in white. And Ricky Rock and Landsdowne Reindorp gained. They’ve never been seen in the countryside before, only in New York or London. They live partly in Palm Springs but deeply praised the less expensive clothes lines. Ricky said Mango was heaven. Why bother with high-end Designer? I do agree. I’ve more to say on this theme later. Lansdowne was a dream of fine wools and scarves, all from Zara. But when I think that Ricky Rock was the one who said, 30 years ago, that it was hopeless shopping in sales because you couldn’t get what you want. He also said, of a Versace swimming trunk costing a then unbelievable £70, ‘Well, it’s a whole outfit.’ The Multis and Ricky and Landsdowne picked over quite a few mutual acquaintances all of whom were found to be impossible but in different ways.

The Multis have established champagne stations in unlikely places all over their demesne.

The Multis Begin Evening Service at The Cafe

Outstanding Pizza Served at the Multis’ Cafe in the Evening

These are Chiwawas

The Miraculous, Saintly Lunch Table at the Multis’ Country Demesne

Pony Club Lampshades in Honour of Robert Nevil at the Multis’ Country Demesne

An Unusually Placed Champagne Station at the Multis’ Country Demesne


Posted Thursday, October 9, 2014 under Adrian Edge day by day.

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