Two Openings and a Wedding

Friday 18th August 2018

Hurled almost directly from the Royal Academy Private Breakfast to the Far West to gather for the Wedding. The Gay Mother took her cardy to Tescos for pre-wedding shopping and donned it for the cold aisle. Many were doing the same. Back-up outfits, bags and bags of suits and dress coats, acres of powder blue, but sadly no diamonds… all to be transported back from the Far West to Gloucs where the great dynastic union between the daughter of Frankie-Doreen and Giles and my cousin was to take place. In the end I wore my Topman dress coat for the pre-luncheon at the Relais et Chateaux hotel in the Cotswolds, changing later into my Topman power-blue mini-suit with the Paul Smith vole bootees for the reception. ‘Everything of the very best,’ the Gay Mother said as the Wedding Service closed – the music, the private singing, the absolute quality. The Church setting – but God was declared on the service sheet  to be the mystery of the universe rather than actual God although the Vicar was pushing in a different direction quite hard.  Frankie-Doreen was one of the greatest mother-of-the-brides that ever lived. Not in tangerine with cafe-au-lait lace overlay as Val specifies for the role, but pewter with rose flush and cream trim, the coat shorter than the dress and an incredible front-bow, statement pearls and a hattinator. Then there was tea on the lawn with champagne or tea and cake brought by the guests. Laura Malcolm emerged in a floral print, wide straw hat and statement pearls, very fitted and shapely,  the boiled-down essence of the wedding guest, We were rustic and natural and done-up-to the-nines, a dream of pastoral, fairy children playing by the lake in the platonic ideal of little girls’ bridesmaids’ dresses.

Frankie-Doreen had done all the flowers – everywhere you looked, flowers, lacy and fine, cow parsley, no hint of fat florist horror. What a dream of rural simplicity, such art, hand-made, the floral wedding of Shakespeare’s time! But our family are riven. Too many deaths, starting with the unexplained suicide of the unknown Gay Grandfather in 1922, despite his excellent connections with grocery at the highest level. And then other misfortunes followed, some arising from the original trauma and some disasters occurring randomly. So the bridal pair must rise phoenix-like from the ashes. I’m sure they will. All bridal pairs are in the same boat, more or less, beginning again, as those who are passing already into the twilight years look on and think they know best.

Back in London via Hestercombe, back into outfits but a shadow of the wedding outfits. The National Trust have gone gay and in Hackney at Sutton House a new gender-neutral toilet marks 50 years since Gays were semi de-crim . They mean well but really. Dainty Lady TV were bidden to Sutton House and taken round by its alternative gay curators. They’ve encouraged angry black people to scrawl on the walls and an artist described as ‘non-binary’ to produce de-faced versions of well-known paintings. ‘Mr and Mrs Andrews’ with an Ikea catalogue was quite funny. The national policy is to out past owners of National Trust properties, even ladies only remotely connected with Lesbianism, and to make volunteers in the properties wear rainbow ribbons. At Felbrigg Hall there was resistance and they had to be let off. I don’t suppose they were anti-gay but embarrassed. Who wants to be thinking about sex while trying to show antiques?

The National Trust Summer Drive for LGBT – maybe it would have been better if they hadn’t bothered. It’s just not for them.

Rather a relief to arrive at Buckingham Palace for the Royal Gifts, which is this year’s special exhibition for the greatly treasured summer opening of this world-class interior. How I love that Blue Drawing Room which is actually cafe au lait and blue. What a scheme! Very few were in for the Press opening. Often I was alone in a drawing room except for a footperson, rather aware that this is the home of a very old person where nothing much has changed for years. That stain on the banquette in the Picture Gallery still there. The Royal Gifts! Two hundred Royal Gifts. Rather shattering. V. few one would really want but it’s the thought that counts. Then a Diana shrine corner of certain pecularity, with a photo of her in her best outfit over – the pink Versace suit for the Buenos Aires Visit. But why did she have her ‘childhood typewriter’ with her always? What is a ‘childhood typewriter’?

Frankie-Doreen and Giles Fecit: The Wedding Cake de Charme

Frankie-Doreen and Giles Fecit: The Wedding Cake de Charme, So Pared Down, Recalling a Rustic Wedding of Shakespeare’s Time from the Point of View of Highest London Today

A Royal Gift: From Russia

A Royal Gift: From Russia

From the People of the Falkland Islands: A bit Dreary

From the People of the Falkland Islands: A bit Dreary

A Pair of Fish Gurgle Jugs Given by Dartmouth Naval College

A Pair of Fish Gurgle Jugs Given by Dartmouth Naval College

HM Not Looking Best Pleased with the Columbian Hangbag

HM Not Looking Best Pleased with the Columbian Handbag

Really Gorgeous: Scarf Given by Nelson Mandela

Really Gorgeous: Scarf Given by Nelson Mandela

Botswana! Don't You Love it

Botswana! Don’t You Love it

Diana's Best Outfit Ever: the Versace Pink Suit for the Buenos Aires Visit

Diana’s Best Outfit Ever: the Versace Pink Suit for the Buenos Aires Visit

Diana's Childhood Typewriter. What is a Childhood Typewriter?

Diana’s Childhood Typewriter. What is a Childhood Typewriter? Plus Her School Tuck Box, which She Always Kept By

 

 

 

Posted Friday, August 25, 2017 under Adrian Edge day by day.

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