Love London.

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Update: April 2023

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                                                      I've been off the blogging scene for a while as I've been having chemotherapy but that's finished now, thank goodness.    I did not retreat from The Times, Below the Line however, in fact that has been prolific, there seem to be so many things to get annoyed about, I'm talking politics of course and mainly Bloody Brexit.           I have republished some older posts from artycelia.com but left in place all the Brexit (Brexiety) posts. We are nearing the 25th anniversary of The Good Friday Agreement, and I think it's important that we remember our (not mine obviously!) decision to leave the European Union and the precarious position it has left us in. Despite politicians telling us that they 'got Brexit done,' they obviously did not. It seems to me that the politicians, especially Boris Johnson, had no clue what Brexit meant. We find ourselves in an uncomfortable place here in Blighty. We have a severe cos
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Coco Chanel

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  Coco Chanel. Photographed by Cecil Beaton 1937 In 1918, when Coco Chanel presented her first collection of gowns, she heralded a new type of glamour that became instantly classic. Her vision was modern, streamlined, and elegant. Like Chanel, who broke every rule, classic glamour doesn't adhere to strictures. Yet you know it the instant you see it. And what might be trashy on someone else (marabou feathers, sequins, an asymmetric dress) is pure perfection on those who, thanks to their confidence and inherent style, personify glamour. For further instruction, take a tip from Chanel herself, and her immortal line: " A girl should be two things- classy and fabulous," A perfect definition of classic glamour. " Nature gives you the face you have at twenty; it is up to you to merit the face you have at fifty." Coco Chanel. "I am not young, but I feel young. The day I feel old, I will go to bed and stay there. Jaime la vie! I feel that to live is a wonderful thin
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My Polish Friend

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  I take myself for a long walk every day and every day is a unique experience. Today I noticed a lot of Jays flying about. I love Jays.  I am always delighted to see such a magnificent blue flash appearing overhead. But there is another reason that I am always pleased to see a Jay. About fifteen years ago I was working in a dental studio. The man who ran the studio fancied himself as a bit of a ladies' man, but I wasn't interested in him at all. It was the old man who did the technical work who held me in thrall. His name was Heinz, and he was in his early seventies. He was short and round, his cropped hair was grey, and he had made his own teeth! He was Polish. We became great friends. We made a very unlikely couple. Me, tall and slim and quite a bit younger than him. I suppose people presumed him to be my dad, but he came to mean much more to me than a surrogate parent. He was so kind even though he had lived through terrible times. He described being poverty stricken while
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