a weekday at the waldorf.

sadly Ginger wasn’t there during our weekday (not weekend) at the waldorf but some Terribly important people were there from Latin America, judging by the conference signs and the paparazzi outside (plus they were deeply intense Parisian reporters it seems, not the usual popular cultural fare in scruffy jeans and dark blue sweaters with holes in the arms with yellow stained fingers and a glare at anyone who interrupts their shot/thought/intensity that we recall so Fondly from our days as a British journalist).

yes, we did have a waldorf salad.

but we were Terribly disappointed that the Tour could not take in the delights of the Starlight Lounge (not so starlight now – the retractable roof is covered by the AC unit these days).

and we were Desperate to see 42R with the murano chandelier (we adore a chandelier) and the blue fortuny silk love seats – but not the pug cushions) done to you-know-which lady’s Most Precise specifications.

Or the suite where both Cole Porter and Frank Sinatra lived: 33A. (but not at the same time, darlings).

and when we’re on a Tour, we prefer to hear about one’s grandchildren only if one is actually a member of the Astor Family.

just saying.

but here’s what we Did see – the hotel is now restored to its original splendour/splendor/magnificence of the opening day – Oct 1st, 1931, to be precise.


bien sur.

this one is NOT from the homage to Oct 1st, 1931 but Kenneth needs to be remembered and revered for the Big Hair and swish-y falls.

as we emerged into the daylight we completely forgot we were in 2012.

because if you close your eyes ever so slightly, you don’t have to be.

or it could be 1957, if you’ve been watching The Hour (and do – it is Utterly Glorious), and in the mood for some Feisty dialog(ue) at the venerable BBC.

we appeared on a BBC Radio program(me) in the early (or was it mid?) 90s (yes, a Long Time before we became teamgloria, darlings).

wish we could find a copy in the Archives.

although we’re Not Convinced we said anything useful or illuminating as we were a tiny bit self-involved (sigh, tis true) and Rather Young. And probably Naive to a fault. but if our memory serves us well, we did wear a Marvel(l)ous leather coat straight out of homage to Withnail and I. so there. not all was lost to the winds of time without a useful memory.

Memories (yes, we can hear her soaring voice too) are sometimes deceptive.

but luckily a Lot of ours were recorded (by us) and tinted in either sepia (by hand, in those days – and it took Ages to dry – now it’s a flick of a button on the trusty Macintosh) or stark yet beautiful black-and-white.

like these.

if you’re reading these and looking at these and you’re in the pictures and saying:

dear god(s) – what on earth is she doing dragging That out of the archives…..!

do let us know.

we’ll happily remove it.

but you do look beautiful/sultry/charming/delicious.

you know that, right?

and there are a few more pictures we’ve just scanned in but we know some of those lovely people to this day so we promise to send a few emails to ask permission.

pretty please.

it’s ever so much Fun finding all this material……

and someone Awfully wise said that one needs to find out where one has been, before one knows where one is heading. Or something like that.


we got a little deep for a second.

but it’s true.

we are definitely trying to piece together who we were (and what exactly happened) before we can start anew on a path to Hollywood once more.


any thoughts on the matter?

have you done the same?

we’re Completely open to reading material and most especially movie suggestions.

like a Weekend at the Waldorf.

Dan: Blair I told you I loved you and you pretended like you didn’t even hear me.
Blair: Dan, let’s just put all that behind us.
Dan: See, you’re doing it again. Do you even want to be in this relationship?
Blair: Of course!
Dan: Is the reason you can’t say you love me because you’re still in love with Chuck?
Blair: No.
Dan: Then I need to know how you feel about me. By tonight.
Blair: Dan—
Dan: We’re supposed to be spending the summer in Italy together and I don’t want you coming unless we know where we stand.



wrong Waldorf. 


medical day 11: entering our blue period: waiting for cancer results. #frightened

if you need any proof how debilitating, frustrating, exhausting and downright irritating (see – we Are English and can Get Cross) illness and recovery from illness and medical leave confinement can be – read yesterday’s post.

today we are entering our blue period (but there are two lovely shots below – we hope you agree) while we wait to see if we have cancer (we’ve stopped calling it C powers, just for today. it felt too cute for what, in effect, is very serious – See! blue period. very blue).

one of the best things about being a (little) older and earning the kind of money that a Day Job like ours pays (why does it feel like a pound of flesh all of a sudden?) is that one can concentrate on having the essentials of a good life: proper tea pot, cups and saucers, elegant surroundings, photographs (framed with a good-sized border) and a well-dressed boudoir with Lots of Pillows, soft blankets, crisp sheets and two throw pillows made from the most silky satin (one was once an old butterscotch slip – we never liked the trim – and had it whipped up into a pillow – we ALWAYS wanted to be the kind of team gloria that walked over to the seamstress – actually a man, now we come to think of it – and said “Juan, would you make us up a pillow from this slip, darling?” and he did a Lovely Job).

in this area of our life we are most inspired (and quite distracted) by Barbara Barry (style crush alert)

“I believe that beauty is healing and inspiring; I want to help others see beauty in all areas of their lives.” – Barbara Barry.

Barbara also influenced us greatly (note how she wears her pearls so elegantly too) in the purchase of our large(ish – we do live in manhattan – in a relatively small apartment) french farmhouse table and bench.

the autumn schedule for (one of the four!) local art-house cinemas has just arrived and we are eagerly planning our movie dates for the next season (one has to book everything early in a town once dominated by the students of Woody Allen’s oeuvre).


are we really planning a post-medical-leave-wellness?

or are we just waiting for the NEXT STAGE?

we assumed (dangerous to do so but we did, based on evidence of good faith) that we would know by now whether we have Cancer.

but we don’t.

apparently when they opened us up (Shudder!) it was “such a mess in there” (and we are So Tidy in RL so that was an indication of Inner Turmoil to be sure) that it took five hours (!!) to remove and replace and respond. we could tell it was hard by the victorian gothic look we were sporting with a neck brace and small’ish bottle of our blood draining away from the wound for 12 or so hours after.


so we don’t yet know.

we Are Prepared (naturally).

we’ve read “all the books”. our fridge is full of leafy greens. we are taking all the minerals they told us to take (because our body isn’t producing them). we are doing everything we’ve been told to do (mostly – see “not taking opiates” in earlier posts).

and still we don’t know.

because as soon as we Do Know – we can do something about it (probably cry in a cab across town to the Waldorf Astoria but this time, not binge on cake, just sit and meet with a quiet and understanding friend who says all the right things and drink tea – lots of tea).

1. scenario A: let’s say we do have cancer. we can join a group (we’re Very Good at that now). get support. clear the decks for healing. ask for help. book all the nuking our body appointments that will undoubtedly follow (we hear the radioactive iodine is no picnic) and we can join the C team and get support and love and probably undergo a Radical Life Change (like leaving NYC at some point – doesn’t everyone in Those Books) and – you know – write the novel, the screenplay, publish a lovely set of photographs, maybe design a range of scarves (we do have a lovely High Forehead and a big set of baby blues) – you know – get into action (we Do live in the USA for a Reason).

2. scenario B: we don’t have cancer (or they removed anything that looked like it might have once been or was about to be).

then what?

apparently then we get tested every six months for years to see if scenario A is on the horizon.

yeah. our life changed already. we are charting a completely new course.

where’s the horizon.

because we can’t see it today.