This was a good day. A very good day.
I finished my copy edit. Hopelessly late for lots of stupid reasons, but done now.
I like my book.
My adored friend D. finally had the major operation he has been waiting for – and I mean really major – and he’s out of theatre and he’s stable.
I’ve had a candle with two wicks burning all day for him and his husband, keeping them in my thoughts. I am so so happy for them both.
I like this promotion Selfridges are doing – Bright Old Things. I’m mad about all the ancient fabulousnesses on Advanced Style, as often blogged about on here, but I had a bit of a surprise when I read this in detail.
Some of the Bright Old Things are the same age as me. Ha!
That’s Nick Wooster up the top there. He’s a New York-based menswear guru of such repute he has a fan blog about him http://fuckyeahnickwooster.tumblr.com/.
He’s 55. Apparently, that’s old now. I guess I didn’t get the memo.
I don’t think I’m quite old yet. OK I’m ancient to my daughter and getting on a bit to my nieces and nephews, but I don’t think mid-50s is old. Maybe I need to get my head round that.
But, really, who cares? It’s only a label. I’m never going to be younger than I am at this very moment right now…. ooops, gone… and I’m not planning to put away my dancing shoes yet.
This is the wonderful Molly Parkin, mother of my friend Sophie (and former mother-in-law of one of my very oldest friends Al). She’s such a life force. Always has been.
Have a look at the whole thing here and tell me what you think is old.
The other thing I enjoyed today was the film about Mr Bowie.
I’ve only watched the first bit so far, when he’s just talking in the Breton jumper, then lying on the bed, smoking and talking and frankly, I could watch that on a loop tape for the rest of my life…
He’s 68. (Although I think he was only 48 when this film was made).