Edward VII Attends a Shooting Party
"A large fraction of our time was spent in changing our clothes..."
As Cynthia Asquith recalls in her memoirs Remember And Be Glad, "... a Friday to Monday party meant taking two tweed coats and skirts with appropriate shirts, three evening frocks, three garments for tea, one's best hat and a variety of country hats and caps, a riding habit and a billy-cock hat, rows of indoor and outdoor shoes, boots and gaiters, and numberless petticoats, shawls, scarves, combs and wreaths ... and a large bag in which to carry your embroidery about the house."
The demands of a social life can be exhausting.
Yesterday was out all day: the morning with Brian in West Hollywood and Beverly Hills, then a real estate inspection in Lafayette Square and lunch in Hollywood with Robert and Eduardo, then dinner in Brentwood with Sophia who's in town on business, followed by a visit with some mutual friends on the west side.
Life is so full, isn't it. Not bad for someone who was supposedly "never to be released back into the general population." Of course that was ages ago, and as Skip said, he never knew anyone whose life didn't get better after being locked up for a bit. How true that's proved to be for so many of us. Though I hesitate to include Leona, it certainly seemed to improve Martha. A pity Scooter dodged that bullet; it might have done him some good too.
Meanwhile you may be gratified to know that a certain "Liaisons Dangereuses" teenager is having a dreadful time wrangling Daddy's new "friend" -- that old chestnut 'you reap what you sow' comes to mind -- since she's admitted engineering the very situation she now finds so abhorrent. "Didier's a MONSTER," she writes, unkindly transferring the blame. But as Skip also used to say, generally in response to a lament of mine in similar circumstances: "I'm neither surprised nor sorry." Which rather sums it up, I think. Too late, asking for my help, now, isn't it.
So everybody get busy, we have a big big weekend ahead. Lots of wardrobe changes. And don't forget that bag for the embroidery!
As Cynthia Asquith recalls in her memoirs Remember And Be Glad, "... a Friday to Monday party meant taking two tweed coats and skirts with appropriate shirts, three evening frocks, three garments for tea, one's best hat and a variety of country hats and caps, a riding habit and a billy-cock hat, rows of indoor and outdoor shoes, boots and gaiters, and numberless petticoats, shawls, scarves, combs and wreaths ... and a large bag in which to carry your embroidery about the house."
The demands of a social life can be exhausting.
Yesterday was out all day: the morning with Brian in West Hollywood and Beverly Hills, then a real estate inspection in Lafayette Square and lunch in Hollywood with Robert and Eduardo, then dinner in Brentwood with Sophia who's in town on business, followed by a visit with some mutual friends on the west side.
Life is so full, isn't it. Not bad for someone who was supposedly "never to be released back into the general population." Of course that was ages ago, and as Skip said, he never knew anyone whose life didn't get better after being locked up for a bit. How true that's proved to be for so many of us. Though I hesitate to include Leona, it certainly seemed to improve Martha. A pity Scooter dodged that bullet; it might have done him some good too.
Meanwhile you may be gratified to know that a certain "Liaisons Dangereuses" teenager is having a dreadful time wrangling Daddy's new "friend" -- that old chestnut 'you reap what you sow' comes to mind -- since she's admitted engineering the very situation she now finds so abhorrent. "Didier's a MONSTER," she writes, unkindly transferring the blame. But as Skip also used to say, generally in response to a lament of mine in similar circumstances: "I'm neither surprised nor sorry." Which rather sums it up, I think. Too late, asking for my help, now, isn't it.
So everybody get busy, we have a big big weekend ahead. Lots of wardrobe changes. And don't forget that bag for the embroidery!
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