Mid May Newsletter 2013 – Photos to Follow

This I’ve said before, and I’ll say it again, but let’s get the weather out of the way. It’s been like 30 days of night, more like the 300 (for you Damian, it’s an Omen), without the vampires and with only the odd full moon to brighten up our lives, that of course is when the loonies really come out.

Very soon the full moon will return. Jeremy King at The Wolseley always warns his staff about the phases of the moon and its lycanthropic properties. Let me point out that alcohol may be another reason for the madness. I always lock up the Sambuca and Grappa when the moon is at its fullest. It’s the only time that Wolf (real name) asks for a little extra in his coffee. I rest my case. Just look how I crafted that joke into my newsletter. That writing course is really paying off in spades. Gosh, I managed to dig myself out of that one and no this time I won’t use an emoticon.

But, for three days, in fact nights, I will immerse myself in a bath of wax and roll myself in cling film so that my body will remain hairless and I will resemble a Chinese crested dog, rather than the beast that lies within.

Then there is Jake, putting on a brave face re: The Wolves (note I got it in again!). I do really feel sorry for his poor disillusioned soul. He has heard every story I tell a thousand times and always pretends like it is the first. I know he may go round the back to throw up, however he does it silently. But, and you know there was a but coming! If I hear the story about Dave Whelan’s broken leg again I shall throw myself under the next passing motility scooter. Let me tell you they get up to quite a lick along Denbigh Street.  Often I try to set out a slalom course just to slow them down, but they just come to the door and hurl abuse at me. So the traffic calming measures don’t work. Jake you say Dave’s bitter! Let it go man, let it go. He’ll hate that.

My friend Jim looks like he’s going to get his wings clipped. He’ waiting for the thud of a letter from the Polizei on his marble hallway.  One of his slaves will silently appear from a cupboard under the stairs to polish away the imaginary mark, before the master finds out. So Jim, that’ll be down to the speeding. Let me explain that driving at high speed on a “quiet” country road you may get away with in a Prius, but not in a Ferrari California.

I assume they could hear that in the next county, hence not a quiet country road. It will have given them enough time to set up a link to post it immediately on YouTube.  I thought you would have invested in a revolving number plate, you’re just so James Bond. Give the keys to Kirsten (his wife) or better me, I promise not to drive too fast. You have seen Ferris Bueller’s Day Off?

And Darren has been in and told me the joke about bear hunting. Yes Jake, he tells it far better than me. My twin got the stand-up comedy gene, I benefitted in other ways. See last month’s photos. Darren is the font of all knowledge. I haven’t got a clue what he does for a living, but he knows it all and everyone in a good way, a kind of human ecstasy capsule.

Bank Holiday Monday was spent at the food festival on the South Bank. The sun even struggled to get out for a while. There was some very good food, Tony and I made friends with a US Military Policeman stationed in Venice, who was making it his job to try every beer on tap. We watched him merrily wander off into the golden sunset. See photo.

Except I was a little disappointed there was no decent ice cream to be had, so it meant a trip to Soho and Gelupo, moment on the lips and all that. Sour cherry and Ricotta! There are other flavours, and some memorable, but that is my fave. Still I feel there is room for another gelateria, maybe a Volpe version.

Later, I could at least head to the gym and strut my funky stuff, work off the indulgence and flex my pecs. My painted toenails always cause a stir, but they are hidden most of the time. Unlike a gentleman sat next to me at lunch the other day; his fingernails were quite striking and beautiful, like my companion, but that’s another story. She’d been long missed at this establishment, but somehow I know she’ll back. I’ll save it for later

Let’s see, birthdays this month include, Neil in Ibiza. He celebrated by climbing Es Vedra chanting at the setting sun, chewing on some hallucinogenic moss, and I know how fond he is of Kate. And Michele Pietrolucci aka known as Fourmaggio, because his birthday is the fourth of May, well I thought it was good joke, he’s growing up fast.

All I can hope is that he grows up to be like his father. I can’t add much to that, but save to say that Max always loved my egg box of a kit car and the rain in the teeth that driving round London always gave us. Driving up and down Bishop’s Avenue at 3 in the morning keeping everyone awake, like Allan Clarke able to get his XK120 up to 120mph between Fortnum’s and The Albany. Look it up on a map, it’s quite a feat. If only to be pulled over by some policewoman who had only one thing on her mind. Sadly it wasn’t what Allan wanted, you’re nicked me old mate! Allan Clarke’s Diaries, sorry Not Allan Clarke’s Diaries are up there as one of my favourite reads, alongside A Confederacy of Dunces. The later should have been made into a film long ago, but we can but dream they may get it right.

Alex Ferguson (Sir) has hung up his coat. Thank God, that bl?@dy thing has been around for years. Just imagine if you we’re the cleaner, and had lost the damn thing, he might have gone earlier. Stop press…So has DB, goodness which coat he’ll hang up, he’s got even more than me. Now where will Jose go? David is hoping he’ll go back to Chelsea, but will he prefer a whiter shade of pale and a bigger pot to, well you know what I mean.

Lastly, one or two of you are starting take advantage of our cashmere service. It has provided me with some interesting memories of some of the truly beautiful garments we have made over the years. I hope we can continue to do this for many years to come, because I have always considered that we have been immensely lucky to deal with the makers and artisans we have done, and the people like all of you who have been good enough to accept my slightly off the wall advice. You have always been kind enough to give me yours in return.

Eventually all good things must come to an end, and I do need to save some sparrow-bits for later. Note, how once again the newsletter was written in spam filter friendly mode. Go to the website if you want the photos and the unedited version.

So, if you were wondering, Michael is in Philadelphia, goodness knows what that is doing to his diet; Jason appears to be avoiding doing any real work and Sunil? Well I shouldn’t mention it. Ooooops! Shouldn’t have mentioned that, but we are dealing with it!

Written at 35,000ft.

Copyright © 2013 Adrian Holdsworth. All Rights Reserved.