Only Hours before He is Bound to be Born

Thursday 24th December 2015

We are quiet and meditative far, far in the West, away from the Capital, before the great moment. Thursday 17th was The Sleeping Beauty as by Matthew Bourne. Lack of a dull moment leapt out and swept me away. It didn’t seem as so much waving about of arms but quite a good battle between Good and Evil with charming mis en scene (late Tsarist Russia, always a favourite), 1st class costumes and ravishing mu, of course. Just give this familiar ballet some shape and purpose, rather than a boring series of set-pieces with minimum narrative as in the original version, and you’re away. What a brilliant, sumptuous Christmas spectacle! Afterwards at Ed Jasper’s: a pop star was present from the 80s (can’t remember who) and a massive from the Mail. Ed is building in Greece and bearing up very well in the circs of killing strain. Ed suffers terribly.

After maiding and Christmas laundry, Saturday was back-to-back: a family party followed by Arabella von Gardendoor’s charming collection: Iran was the main theme; exiles were present; an uncle (but not like an uncle in many necklaces and unique black garments in a mousselene fabric) was dead against Islam. He said you need only be 5% Islamic and you’re a fanatic. He hadn’t been out for days and always has to wear a hat. Another Iranian lady had thought of marrying the uncle years ago. ‘Good thing you didn’t,’ I said. She said Definitely yes. He doesn’t sit still for five minutes but is very creative. The previous boiling hot son of Arabella’s first husband arrived and made two important revelations: the first was that his girlfriend would be arriving shortly from a bottomless brunch. I’ll leave you to find out what a bottomless brunch is. It’s not quite what you might think. Second was the Mr Porter sample sale: only the select few can get in and it’s not online, it’s near Regent Street. Boiling Hot’s jumper was Junya Watanabe reduced from £900 to £90. It was orange, brown, and chestnut horizontal stripes with a touch of puce if I recall. A stand-out piece. Old Etonians (knew people I know) and clerics were also at the party.

I should also mention that, riding on the coat-tails of Genevieve Suzy, I have once again shaped the Nation’s Christmas in the Daily Mail last Saturday. Robert Nevil incandescent.

So on Sunday was the boarding for Hastings for the revered Christmas opening of the Angus Willis Tudor House, among other things. This is undoubtedly the most important new English interior since the War. I was conveyed by Lord Suzy, husband of Genevieve Suzy. We took panetone at 12 and lunch at 3 in the Jedward. Before lunch I was at the Tudor House Christmas opening. I tell you, you step through the door of that house, and you’re in another world. It’s magical, such a feeling of the past created in the last five years. Members of the paying public were bowled over. ‘So much more interesting that the Jedward Collection,’ one of them said which is saying a lot because the Jedward has some important artists, many of them owned or known personally to Poor Little Rich Gays. Then at 5 we arrived at the White Rock Theatre, Hastings for the panto. It was Genevieve and Lord’s daughter’s 8th birthday. Jessie Wallace off of Eastenders was the Fairy Godmother. Cinderella was about 40, in a apron. The audience – my God they were rough. Somebody shouted at the Fairy Godmother to fuck off. Genevieve said, ‘These people have never eaten a vegetable in their lives.’ In the interval we had a pink birthday cake for Genevieve and Lord’s daughter’s birthday. In the second half, there were many gorillas behind the Ugly Sisters. They even got into the audience. But the Ugly Sisters never saw them no matter how much the audience bellowed ‘Look behind you.’ This was Genevieve and Lord’s daughter’s fav bit. The panto also involved singing. They do this nowadays to give an X-factor feel –  so these loud, brassy, crooner-type voices, especially Cinderella. Genevieve said Prince Charming was Gay: strangely his spray-on velvet breeches for the Ball Scene had no fly, suggesting a possible absence of equipment. Anyway it all ended happily. The cast escaped the worst the audience might do, such as knife them.  Despite cake, we took an Italian dinner before boarding for London.

That just left Tuesday and one final outfit before the retreat into the full sanctity of Christmas. Giles Ullerston and Frankie-Doreen gave a fundraising Christmas music evening for their younger daughter’s voluntary work in Africa. I know, one ought to volunteer. But sadly I find myself doing less and less for others, unlike Lord Arrowby. She is a highly skilled soprano and gave a thrilling recital. The second half was Christmas carols and joining in despite large numbers of leading atheists in the audience.  Many greatnesses, especially doctors, but also media, novelling, general brains but those who fire importantly at the inner core of our Nation, where the Queen and Lord Arrowby and the PM are lodged, were present and the canapés and buffet stretched as far as the eye could see in lavishment. Important doctors at last were able to meet. I discussed exercise regimes, such as side-plank, with Ivy Driver. My campaign to have ‘Oh Come all Ye Faithful’ banned for good was not successful – in this quarter. It turned out later that Buddhists had been of the party, saying that upon Death one’s electrons are released and disperse throughout the Universe, later to make another being. Not a pleasing idea. And there must be exceptions, such as Royalty and Poor Little Rich Gays who erect monuments to themselves during life and after it.

The Tudor House, Hastings, with Giant Hogweed Appliqué

 

Back Corridor at White Rock Theatre, Hastings where we Were for Cinderella with Jessie Wallace off Of Eastenders

Genevieve Suzy and Lord’s Daughter’s Machine Gun for Cinderella at White Rock Theatre Hastings

Pink Cake for Genevieve and Lord’s Daughter’s 8th Birthday

 

 

The Magic of the Tudor House, Hastings, within: One is Transported back into Another World

Posted Friday, December 25, 2015 under Adrian Edge day by day.

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2 comments

  1. Fergus Strachen says:

    I think it may have been me who told the Fairy G to fuck off. At £21 a pop I think that not only justified but obligatory. Forgive!

  2. Adrian Edge says:

    I find it hard to believe.

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