gosh! 인증샷 ! #sightings #howtostaysaneinacrazyworld #london ! #southafrica ! #austria #silverlake !


the 인증샷 are pouring in now (yes, we had a quick vocab lesson from Our Contact In KOREA, the lovely Seoul Flâneur).

what’s that?




인증샷  = #sightings (or more correctly in KOREAN “evidence shots”)

shall we proceed?




@_coeurdepirate – who also writes beautifully at herzpiratenblog ordered the book and had it sent (parcel post) all the way to AUSTRIA and, in a little correspondence after we admired the setting-with-ballet-shoes, said (in an excerpt below):

oh yes…*blush* straight from austria these days but with the good intention to spread the word not only in the “Alpenrepublik” but taking it even further up north to Norway with me on my next trip back up there next week. And jetsetter as we are, we might even take it further and let it see the rest of Europe, too. ;-)

isn’t that glorious? The ALPS!

doesn’t that remind you of the Chalet School? *shivers* (there’s a nice essay here if you’re not familiar with this reference of hearty sports and snow-bound teen angst in pinafores and woolly caps).

back to (the United States of) America now for our 2nd 인증샷  of the day.



#howtostaysaneinacrazyworld appears to be a Biker Chick.



the book is also going to slip into a bubble bath with one of the young gods of mobile technology….SA

and is already languishing wantonly on a bed of grapes in SOUTH AFRICA (thank you Colleen!)silverlakeand Rosie in Silver Lake is protecting her copy from potential invaders.

you may recall that Rosie is one of our favo(u)rite silent screen actresses, along with her late companion Jake. 

and in other news.

let’s see.

we went to sip mineral water with Doree Shafrir for Los Angeles I’m Yours.


there’s been a lot of (nice) driving east and west in the past few days (today is the one day a week where we do NOT get in the car – happily keeping who-we-are-in-RL company as she completes the edits on her piece for ELLE CHINA).


one of the trips *saidvaguely* was all the way over there to the virtual bungalow on the Studio Lot to visit Miss Vickie Lester (who has a wickedly funny post on her site that Just went Live *smiles*) as who-we-are-in-RL was doing a digital check up (we curled up quietly on the lovely chaise looking out through the picture window and flicked idly through a vintage copy of Variety of course).

we digress.

because En Route we stopped for a little breather at a Most charming Armenian cafe where we saw this poster for a hopefully not-forgotten rock band.

armenianow THAT’s a moustache and no mistake.

the men sitting in the cafe drinking harsh coffee (the sort in tiny cups with grounds at the bottom that probably are very bitter unless one adds sugar and we hear people still do that in certain parts of the world) looked Up as we gazed with curious smiles at the poster and got chatting (because we always stop to find out someone’s story) as the kind cafe owner made our skim latte-to-go but did not meet our eye (we have a feeling it was a male refuge of a cafe for men to talk about the Old Days in Armenia so we did not interrupt).

but there was one chap with a moustache and he looked slightly shy as we looked back at the poster so you never know (ever, actually, which makes everything So Refreshing).

and then, later that day, we ended up somewhere we have not been for a while.


it was a regular check up.

but still, we are Not Fond of these places having spent far too much time there while researching the book, if you know what we mean.

the Charming part (because if one looks carefully and diligently enough there is Always a charming part to every situation) was that we followed the (rather Viking-like) lab technician into the room with waiting test tubes and before he could say anything, we slipped into the (quite comfy actually) seat and pulled down the arm rest and rolled up the slim-fit-black-ballet-teacher-like-long-sleeved-top (almost mesh but not quite) and offered the left (slightly dotted with freckles) arm.

you’ve done this before

he smiled, a tiny bit tinged with sadness.

hell, yeah.

we said.

pointing to the scar (which Adores a mention from time to time).


got it.

he said, nodding (with some respect we feel, which was Ever so nice because if one is going to carry a slain-across-the-throat-scar, one Does enjoy Respect for one’s inner Russian gangster circa 1941 soul).

and so we proceeded to carry on with our day.

while the scar preened.

more Sightings Please!

we’re Ever so excited over here (if you couldn’t tell – *ironic_moue*)

in fact we heard the book is going to take a few Flights (in the cabin and not inside a mr. amazon box in the Hold this time).

Screen Shot 2014-03-06 at 9.01.13 AM

we’re not sure the book drinks, but it probably enjoys a contact high and if placed by the window, will be Thrilled to see the View.

because the View from here is certainly glorious.

publish and be hugged.


as we lie back on the movie starlet counterpane….

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAwe’ve been thinking a lot (always a slightly dangerous activity)OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA about Why People want to be published.

because there seem to be Quite a few people around us who, well, might have Wanted to have written a book (too) and, well, haven’t quite got round to it (yet). so when they see a copy of the book SOMETIMES (and only sometimes) there’s a – how can we put this – rueful smile when they see IT.


of course Morrissey sang it wickedly at his best (and with a lovely slightly shiny blue blouse)

it doesn’t matter at all.

we wish them well.

in fact we wish they’d just get on with it and write the bloody book and publish it.



they CAN.

what’s that?


well there’s a Big difference between wanting-to-write-and-communicate-with-the-World and what’s perhaps the True Reason:

wanting to be Validated by the Establishment

(book deal, critics, cocktail parties, protection from poverty, escaping from one’s Past)


for a start: not sure if you’ve noticed, but the Establishment doesn’t run things anymore (and it stopped throwing really big parties when the accountants became mgmt and started looking at the “numbers”).the court(ship) of public opinion (and direct to consumer publishing via mr. amazon and the like, blogs, sharing, social feeds) is Us.

(and are Ever so grateful to Miss French Navy for sending us this clipping about our article in Harper’s Bazaar Australia)OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAwhich is DELICIOUS.

so there you go – we’ve said our piece.

publish and be hugged.

nobody’s stopping you (but you – as the sages say).

and we’ll be the 1st to buy a copy. but you knew that. OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAin other news:

Screen Shot 2014-02-15 at 8.17.52 AMthe DIVINE Miss Vickie Lester has written a blog post featuring the Scar (which is ever so happy to be mentioned, it’s been a while)


htssiacw_p104-2now just in case you’re Very Young, Miss Vickie Lester’s Post features a picture at the top (providing Context and Hollywood deliciousness) of the divine Elizabeth Taylor (not who-we-are-in-RL).

co-in-ci-dent-ally – we have a Quote (about) Miss. E. Taylor framed on our wall from a vintage copy (1981, we believe) of Interview magazine where Mr. Warhol talks about how famous people have this entree to each other that brooks no need to stand on ceremony. 
OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAhaving been around a few famous people in our Time, we can confirm this is True.

there’s a subtle nod of recognition – just like in the corridors at a particularly grand school – between the chosen beauties and those-who-will-run-corporations (while those-who-will-write furiously take in the Scene). 

talking of Fame and wanting-to-reach the Top, we happened to catch Stage Door (1937) last night (that’s a slightly understated allusion – we deliberately picked up the DVD while retrieving the latest cache of Requested Materials at the library). 

have you seen it?

the snappy dialog(ue) is Genius.

I see that, in addition to your other charms, you have that insolence generated by an inferior upbringing.

Hmm! Fancy clothes, fancy language and everything!

Unfortunately, I learned to speak English correctly.

That won’t be of much use to you here. We all talk pig latin.

And I use the right knife and fork. I hope you don’t mind.

All you need’s the knife.


If you were a little more considerate of your elders, maybe Mr. Powell would send his car for you someday. Of course, he would probably take one look at you and send you right back again, but then you have to expect that.

Is that so?

Do you know, I think I could fix you up with Mr. Powell’s chauffeur. The chauffeur has a very nice car too.

Yes, but I understand Mr. Powell’s chauffeur doesn’t go as far in his car as Mr. Powell does.


now that’s writing. 

there were two men’s names on the screenwriter credits (although you know that only the last people who touch a script get credited, right?) but there was something so Heartfelt and dirty (in a good way) and Real that we KNEW the person who wrote the Original words *must* have lived in a boarding house (or similar) for theatrical “girls” in the late 1920s in the sniper fire of midtown manhattan.



“The writer is a writer because [she] cannot help it. It is a compulsion. Sometimes it is called a gift, but actually it is an urge for expression that simply cannot be denied.”
Edna Ferber. 

“Is this, they ask, the story of your life?…Yes. My inner life. The life of imagination and creative ability. Writing is a lonely work but the creative writer is rarely alone. The room in which one works is peopled with the men and women and children in the writer’s imagination. Often they are difficult—but rarely boring—company. This is a fortunate thing, for they are with one day and night, they never leave while the book or play is in progress…” (A Kind of Magic, 1963)

darlings – will you excuse us?

we simply *must* click over to the Los Angeles County Library Requested Materials department to request EVERYTHING by Edna Ferber.

we shall return.

with pictures.

looking awfully Lady-Mary takes a job at the BBC, today.

we just caught sight of ourselves in the posh elevators at the Day Job en route back to our Desk (having rushed out with a bag containing our swimsuit and hiding behind some Large Dark Glasses for “Lunch”) and realized we had a very specific “look” today –

it’s rather Lady-Mary takes-a-job-at-the-BBC – don’t you think?

or perhaps a spymaster general-turned-Dame

or the New ambassador in Paris (actually any of those would be lovely).

the original shot captured the Scar rather well but we felt a bit tearful so decided to Crop (the joy of Modern digital photography, darlings).

moving swiftly on…..(gulp)

our surgeon has decided we’re not getting well enough in the time allotted (he didn’t share That information with us before now…) so we’ve had to move our time-to-take-meds from early morning to just before bedtime.

in order to spur our memory and Avoid awkwardness we have been reduced to leaving little Alice in Wonderland notes around the house…..like this:

you see we can become Very Distracted when we fall in love with a new author, darlings.

when we were at Chelsea Market yesterday, with lady-of-letters and the sprite (in her mini cloche hat), we stopped in at Posman Books and the clerk recommended Simon Van Booy‘s collection of short stories – it’s beautiful and haunting and captivating and we’ve just tumbled into a new obsession (always fun).

you can read a little for yourself here:

of course we still have Lots of books waiting for us to return home after the Day Job (and something of a social outing first – must remember to nourish RL relationships, not just Those In Books although those are very important and enriching in themselves as you know).

late night, buying Lacroix (and McQueen)

It’s almost as if the Scar has a different personality of its own.

For last night – after the Day Job, after we Swam and steamed and ate a little spicy food and read in a restaurant and thought about what’s next and what’s now and why and how to cope and all that – we found ourselves Buying Lacroix.

Yes, you read that right.

We thought a walk after supper was a Good Idea and our hair was all swept up in a sort-of-a-chignon and clipped back, still wet from the Pool (too tired to blow-dry, too many corporate-warriors-in-expensive-tiny-non-matching-underwear waiting for the available mirrors/dryers – we gave up) and we thought “oh! A new soft throw cushion might be nice” but the interiors shop was having a private event so we kept walking……

……….and found ourselves in one of those large discount stores where designers would Pale to know their last unsold season merchandise goes to rest.

Now we don’t Like Shopping.

We’re not That Sort of a Lady.

In fact we shop like a man – infrequently, replenishing and cautiously. (well, like a straight man, to be exact, we expect).

But the cloud of satin-y dresses (?!!) floated and sang like exotic birds and we moved through the racks stroking the gorgeous prettiness and musing “this is Rather Fun”.

How Odd.

The items we held up against us were Most curiously Different to our usual strict Mode and for a split second we considered a Baby Blue Satin 40s Dress (quelle Bizarre, darlings) but then we realized we only communed with it because the label said Isaac Mizrahi and we Adore Isaac as you might recall……

We realized we’d never wear it.

It was far too Watching The Polo Match and we have zero interest in sporting participation (which is odd as we’ve dated several Rather Sporty types in our time, darlings).

Then something black (aha!) and Very Pigalle just hung there, taunting us – an Alexander McQueen – slim fitting, slightly naughty and Terribly Bold.

We bought it.

We have No idea if we’ll wear it.

But it certainly looks mighty fine and sassy hanging in our wardrobe/closet/receptacle-of-clothing and we might Tame it with ballet shoes (black) and a long Helmut Lang (black) fine knit jersey that almost stretches to the floor. The naughty skirt will Peek out and Shock momentarily.

Quelle fun, come to think of it.

But to the point of Our Story.



Like a gorgeous Rare Avis it sang Diva-like from the scarf section (which we have Never visited before – people tend to give us soft dove grey/gray/Dior-shade cashmere or blocked eau-de-nil scarves and we’re not sure we’ve ever bought one or considered wearing one, not of the Parisian Lady en route to The Saloniste anyway).

Without thinking (and we do Nothing without Deep contemplation, darlings) we Bought It.

The discount shop teller girls (all very young) looked Shocked that their store contained such naughtiness as the McQueen and rare Beauty as the Lacroix – perhaps it didn’t. Maybe those items Just Happened to be there for us.

Yes, we Do think like that.

We’re going to take the Lacroix to the Day Job.

There are a few lovely people who spend time in our office on the odd occasion who will Swoop on the Lacroix, perhaps as evidence we’re changing and Lightening and blossoming……….

We don’t think we’ll wear it.

But we feel a Need to be Near it.

Perhaps it will live draped on a chair, lying elegantly as if on a chaise, awaiting some fine white chocolate bon bons with creme vanille inside and a suitor or two or three (it seems like That sort of a scarf).

These things happen to us.

And we have a suspicion that the Scar contains much of our French heritage and is starting to make decisions that our Celtic blood (which most certainly picked the McQueen) finds shocking and the bit that remains english is wringing its hands, worried that Everyone Needs to lie down until this All passes.

The Scar is taking over……………..

dear me.

What Fun.

sniper fire and scars and pots of tea


have you noticed how sweet the sunsets are after a cRaZY day?

have you taken a moment during lunch to take a walk in the Park and look up into the soaring trees and see the first whispers of spring in the cool lofty branches?

and when the scar twinges – which it does – especially during metaphorical sniper fire, for some curious reason, we are Most grateful to look forward to a Long Conversation about Art, popular Culture, love, Paris, Adventurers and their tales of glory, and other glorious Glorias and Packing for New trips and writing – especially writing – oh and so much More.

All this happened today.

In its own beautiful way.

and to an evening slipped by quietly with friends to a soft soundtrack, created and curated by Someone Very knowledgeable and Gifted with music.

and long phonecalls. And reconnecting emails.

All this made today possible.

In the Most Elegant Way.


when in doubt…..Le Caprice, darlings.

an odd day – full of Missed Connections and Misinformation – but alleviated by breakfast at Le Caprice, a walk across the FREEZING manhattan morning across central park, the Day Job achievements (many, said modestly) and a vigorous Swim at lunchtime, followed by a Raw Juice (who have we Become?!) before returning to work for Very important stuff.

early morning sunshine peeking over the trees and sky-scape of Gotham beyond the Park (yes, we were on the upper east side again – strangely enough)

the ante-room between the Pierre hotel and Le Caprice is Ever so Versailles, non?

as we waited in the prime position of the central booth (hair must be working today, we thought as we shrugged off our winter layers and pulled the cashmere blonde cardigan closer around our shoulders and felt Terribly Glam) for our guest, we perused the wide selection of International Newsprint so generously offered.

and waited.

and waited.

and called our guest:

everything ok, lovely person?

it went to voicemail so we left the message above and then got an email a few moments later.

oh gawd. NEXT friday!


a Bonus breakfast at Le Caprice. we ordered, hastily.

and then virtually Ran (so COLD!) across the park and down into the sniper fire of midtown manhattan to our first meeting of the day.

starting with a lovely breakfast, tout seul, was actually Rather Nice.

especially as it’s Friday.

note to self: too early to wear a turtleneck. the scar from you-know-what was not happy. it got a little itchy and cross.

or maybe it was annoyed that the turtleneck obscured its vision.

yes. that’s exactly how we think…….

don’t you, darlings?


satin, steinway, swimming – and a chandelier #teamgloriaday #delicious


am Rushing Out the Door (to catch a movie or something diverting to re-focus our cultural brains on something nourishing….)

here’s our day in pictures. it was delicious. and, although Tis Dark outside – the night has not ended…

today’s entry to the #photoadaychallenge (“where we sleep”)

we Adore a Chandelier (as you know) and the The Peninsula on Fifth Avenue has a lovely example of a Rather Grand one – yes, another splendid Business Breakfast took place..

twas still Early following breakfast so we popped on a warm cloche hat (very Chic – agnes b – bought in Paris, naturellement, cherie/cheri/darlings) and soft gloves and took a stroll back to the Day Job past Steinway on 57th.

we also had a business meeting later on, at a lovely Italian cafe – isn’t the jaunty young blade on a Vespa rather Splendid?

yes. two business meals in one day and you can bet your bottom dollar (wasn’t that a 1950s musical number in a Hollywood movie?) that we Swam Lengths during the afternoon at the new club.

most refreshing.

isn’t that a very new York executive day?

the scar drew a little attention in the changing room at the Club as we threw back our (lustrous head of) hair to make sure it was dry before returning to work.

it didn’t seem to mind.

in fact, the scar is rather happy when it gains notoriety.

in a James Bond throat slit sort of a way.


Ingredients for a rainy day

darlings, we have escaped from the hideous rain (both real and chemically- induced by Scary Synthroid).



therapy was good today. In a questioning our-whole-life-and-sexual-identity sort of a way.

Big Stuff.

Most definitely for Another Time, darlings ;)

No action required at this time (this is what we write on fwd/emails to our Most Helpful deputy or our Executive Assistant at the Day Job – v grown up)

On the subject of the Day Job (ED: careful, love) we are struggling to keep it together on the ever fluctuating moods cycle induced by the hideous Synthroid. We wake up feeling So Old (and cranky) and the hair loss side effect is no picnic. Luckily we have a lustrous mane. But post-blow-dry the bathroom is a sorry sight. The solution will not appear for months apparently (quelle joy) as they switch the dosage and the new Bumper Pack of Vitamin D kicks in (we also asked if we could re-introduce the adrenal combo as rec by a friendly healer – no, they’re not always nice, some are Cross) of triple ginseng, B6, tyrosine, pantothenic acid and Vit C (putting in this level of detail as we appear to have attracted quite a crowd recently so assume people are finding our journey useful).

Or perhaps it is just our delicious eye?

If it IS…….enjoy these, darlings.

We went to Brooklyn yesterday for a Very Important Work Meeting and took these shots en route to the Assignation.


Still in soho at this point – Ruben Toledo (Love! As Isaac Mizrahi would say) painted the lift/elevator at Treasure + Bond.





And this seductive little shop was spotted this morning on Prince near Wooster.


medical day 12: a day of small simple tasks

we can’t remember what the television program/programme was (was it the original series of Fame? perhaps it was). but we DO remember the phrase:

take it down a thousand.

so if it was in a series set inside the high school of performing arts with some very highly strung performers, that would make sense.

we remember it best because, we’re sure you saw this coming……people used to say it to US when we were at University (dreaming spires – yes – Oxbridge, no – London, actually, closer to the Dr. Marten’s supplier up at Camden Market, love).

so today we took that advice (after yesterday’s depths of despair).

we took it down a thousand.

and did some very small simple tasks. and It Helped.

we posted some letters (walking very slowly – but a block further each time and resting lots).

we loved this machine. it took us a minute to stop thinking we were crazy (what’s new) and realize it really did say that on the screen. so we had to deal with a real person – which is hard (for so many reasons) and we have to lean forward so they can hear us and do lots of eye contact so they don’t bark at us and say “speak up!” like some sergeant major and then they catch sight of the inky black scar on our throat under the “steri-strips” and you can see the double-take. “tattoo gone wrong?” (then they look doubtfully at our big blue eyes and hair (natural, darlings) loosely pulled back in a clip and very sort of someone’s french-aunt-who-writes and the black cashmere sweater (clearly earns her own living) “had her neck done?” (yeah, sort of). and we say “thank you” (mostly with the eyes) and put the big black shades on again and drift out into the early autumnal sunshine on our way.

we have been known to, yes.

mt came for tea. we talked about Everything. especially magical things. mt is a bit of a magical being himself.

and we read a lot of newspapers (such a rare treat.) without giving too much away – we started our career on newspapers – actually That’s Not True. we started our career in RADIO. age 4. yes, you read that right.

come again?

yup. 4.

we wrote at 4. we were (this cannot come as a surprise to you darlings – Very Precocious).

we – um – performed – on Brighton Beach (the one in England) in one of those (probably seriously dubious in provenance) “seafront variety shows” where children are encouraged by (probably a rather creepy old guy) old shoe-shufflers from the boards to get up and sing a song.

we had no interest, even in those days, for doing What Everyone Else Does.

so – apparently – we got up on stage and started doing an extraneous sort of a jazz/spoken word/partly sung solo piece of our own making. god knows if we’d practiced. or whether it was divinely inspired.

anyway. it thoroughly impressed a certain Friend of our parents who was at that time married to one of their friends. he was a young up and coming “DJ” on the local radio station (which had just become a BBC station – we do like to start with the best ;-)

and we ended up writing jingles for him.


so there you go.

our first job was age 4 and we wrote jingles (and sang them) for a BBC radio show.

not telling you which year but we’re pretty sure we were in a very nice pair of cord trousers and something in a shiny daisy yellow on the top.

it all starts somewhere.

today it started with posting a letter and moved into various small simple tasks like getting a coffee, reading a newspaper, buying stamps and talking on the sofa with a friend and falling asleep and taking the pills as prescribed and sleeping some more and making a simple lunch.

because that’s all we are capable of doing.

it was a pretty good day.

we know we’re still not responding to your lovely emails and comments. but we want to let you know that we Are Reading Them (and crying and smiling and being Very Grateful).

sleep well, darlings.