2015 – Colour: Chateau Margot 1927 & Papal Purples.
Theme: Restoration Glory in Women & The Arts.
Place: – The Boudoir salonnières.
Resolution: My dedication to Salon Life shall remain as unshakable as a Papal Bull when it comes to my writing. My body may ail, but the Inky Scribe within is as lively as a Spaniel on the grouse moors of August.
Living the Life Vicarious
Confined to an invalid’s bed – Living the life vicarious of the Ailing Inky Scribe, requires the discipline of Sis. Concilio, the patience of Our Lady, the humour of that jewel of the Restoration; Aphra Behn, the mind of Mde De Staël, the imagination of Cristine De Pizan, the memory of Proust & the bed of George Sand or perhaps CoCo Chanel?
In 2015, the ink shall flow across the pages of my Enid Blyton-esque stories of the Winter Crocquet fields of St Augustines & the ivy clad medieval walls of Eton College – capturing the Aristos, Toffs & Royals on their trysts in Pullers Woods. Furthermore, Pulling Princes Oxford hits the shelves, as shall MAYFAIR ECCENTRICS.
For I am putting the last scrawls of ink on my history of the eccentrics of Mayfair, this unique urban village from the 1660’s – when London was really swinging – to the 21st Century. For I’ve resolved that the secrets & scandals of St James’s & Mayfair’s Spies, Catholics, Royals & writers will hit my agents desk in 2015.
Life, even in illness is theatre & eyebrows must be drawn, lipstick slashed across pale lips & rouge daubed over pallid cheeks to shield one from the pity of others.
I further resolve in 2015 – my vintage crocodile Kelly & Gucci handbags – those sturdy talismans against even the bitterest pain – shall always match my crocodile shoes on hospital visits.
Even Medieval Monday’s & leachings – shall be made glorious; draped in vintage Dior & sable, swathed in ancient Rosaries, Scapulae & Reliquary. For in 2015 I pledge myself to more than one decade of the rosary a day, to refurbish Mummy’s 1940’s Reuge St Croix musical compact & to make more hen friends.
But most resolutely I pledge to live the Splendid Life Vicarious; in devotion to my children, my grandson, the SantOconnell Clan & my unfaltering worship of the the grandeur of the arts & beauty.
Travelling in my imagination from the salonnières of my boudoir, through the majesty of memories more vivid now that I defend them from pain; my constant, rather Gothic companion – like a beastly aunt that pinches me when I fall asleep in the sermons, looks at me sternly should I become giddy over a perfectly fitting pair of kid-gloves or hat crafted by Angels, & bestows beastly beardy kisses on me.
In 2015 when I occasionally venturing out for my leachings & MRIs, I shall be transported in my Papal-Purple-Brocade-Curtained Litter by exquisitely, tall, slender, liveried footman.
Life is precious & the Georgian jewels twinkling from my hands & wrapped around my neck & wrists, remind me that time is immutable & fleeting & like my Granny; a terrible cheat. Our imaginations are the fortifications of our mortal battlements.