Author Archive for Beverley – Page 6

A Colorful But Rather Self Indulgent Life

by Beverley
December 14th, 2011

It was bigger news in Paris and London than in Santa Barbara, California but I read with interest the obits in the European papers about the recent death of la Baronne de Cabrol. Born Marguerite d’Harcourt the daughter

of Etienne, Marquis d’Harcourt, she was known throughout her life as Daisy. Reading these obits la Baronne emerges as one of the very last of an era of French aristocratic society who swirled in a seemingly glamorous whirl in living their lives. I met her only once, casually, when a group of us shared a chartered plane to fly from Paris to Bordeaux for a Rothschild wedding in the 1980’s. She was part of a very colorful group of fellow passengers including the wife of the President of France, Mme. Jacques Chirac, designer Pierre Cardin, the glamorous Vicomtesse de Ribe among others. But I’ve read quite a bit about Daisy Cabrol through the years.

It appears her years of marriage to Baron Fred de Cabrol de Moute were happy years, colorful years. Her late husband was a talented amateur artist and interior designer who not only did work for homes and chateaux for many of their group but also for such places as the Hotel George V in Paris. He was particularly known for intriguing scrapbooks he kept of photographs, newspaper clippings and his own delightful water colors that visually documented their world.

Daisy loved parties and society columns were filled with pictures of her during the era of great balls in Paris, during the 1950’s in particular. She especially liked costume balls and hosted many herself. It should be explained that these extravaganza galas were not the parties we call balls in this country which are generally glorified dinner dances. They were great events with the most famous haute couture designers in Paris doing the costumes, entertainment produced by famous name entertainers or the entire troop of the Ballet Russe or the Cuevas Ballet performing, and on occasion complete dramatic temporary buildings were built to stage the galas.

As the obits go the London Telegraph gets into the sexier part of Daisy Cabrol’s life more than the parties. British papers are prone to do that! They bring up the story that in 1945 the British Ambassador to France, Duff Cooper, (the paper calls him the Lothario Ambassador to Paris!) took an interest in Daisy which upset his then mistress Louise de Vilmorin to the point that his wife Lady Diana Cooper had to console de Vilmirin and assure her that Duff really loved her. The British and French are inclined to be more understanding in such situations than Americans. Cooper, in writing about the incident in his fascinating letters now out in book form edited by his son the Viscount Norwich. described her as “sweet but not very clever girl. She is very proud of being the only one in Paris who is faithful to her husband and says she intends to remain so. I really don’t mind.” Fred de Cabrol died in 1997 and I haven’t been able to verify if she kept her word on this!

I have found one incidence of her not being very clever. That is when she attended a 1951 ball with theme of costumes of 1900, hosted by Vicomtesse Marie-Laure de Noailles, dressed as an armless and legless woman! This in my mind brought the theatrical self indulgent way of life for many in her group to a new low. La Baronne’s life wasn’t really a life that contributed much to her fellow man but it has given those of us who are ancient enough to remember and/or read books about the European world following WWII some amusing reading. Speaking of which I’m deep into a new British book West End Front by Matthew Sweet on what went on during World War II in London’s grand Hotels such as the Ritz, Dorchester, and Claridge’s where many of the famous and infamous took refuge during the Nazi bombings of London. Fascinating to read of leading political figures, movie stars, courtesans, Nazi spies, sharing limited space in underground shelters beneath the hotels during bombing raids and living down the halls from each other on a full time basis. And most interesting to me I’m reading incidents involving people I actually knew, in a few cases quite well. So there is bound to be a blog forthcoming on this book eventually!

By The Way
This blog was started to sell my new book and I keep going off on other topics. Please do check out The Beautiful Lady Was A Palace Eunuch at Amazon.com
Acknowledgement:
Kathleen Fetner, Technical Advisor and Friend
Categories Editorial, My Life

Thank Heavens for Julia Child and Trader Joe’s

by Beverley
December 8th, 2011

Bamboo steamersHave you ever had that experience of walking into the kitchen one sunny morning and it’s suddenly very obvious that it has been 20 years since you’d repainted and it shows?  Well maybe you haven’t, your home is probably newer than mine. But it can happen. Yes, it has happened to me. “Okay ” I said to myself and Rennie (my spoiled miniature wirehair daschund). “We get it painted.” I called a perfectionist friend and secured the name of marvelous painters and I’m going going to have a clean neat kitchen. “We’ll be there at 8:00 promptly,” they said happily. Not my best time of day but I didn’t say a word. “And please have everything cleared out.”

Cleared out started with seven different bottles of assorted soy sauces, four kinds of vinegars, three olive oils, bottles of sherry, Madeira, Marsala wine, and all the “use them all the time spices” taking up the whole right side of the stove top.  I cook basically salt free now but out in case salt is needed there is regular salt, Lawry’s seasoning salt, salt in a cute grinder, Himilayan and Dead Sea rock salt with a miniature grater as well as grinder jars of plain black pepper, five color pepper, lemon pepper and white pepper. Hanging above to be removed is my collection of antique copper pots and in the other corner waiting to be carted to card tables in the dining room my blender, Cuisinart, toaster oven, electric tea pot, coffee grinder for golden flax, big bag of dog food, bowls of lemons, limes, and bananas. Potassium you know, bananas that is. And tucked in very back a brown paper bag with avocados ripening in it. On the shelf over the sink there is the cute wooden mushroom shaped thing and round of wood I use for crushing garlic, a bunch of lemons ripening, pomegranites my neighbors brought from their ranch and a 10 year old jar of honey in case of burns. The fire extinguisher is on the floor but leaning against a wall to be painted so that has to be schlepped into the dining room as well. And can’t forget the items on top of the refrigerator — Chinese bamboo steamers and lids of every size from 4″ diameter to 14″ with one lid you wouldn’t believe.  Customs insisted it was a hat as I came through on one trip en route home from remote parts of China. “It’s a lid for my bamboo steamer!” I’d argued. They listed it as a taxable hat.

But this was just the beginning. The book shelves of cook books lay waiting. Two shelves of Chinese, one shelf each for Italian, French, and “assorted countries” — not sure Charlie Trotter would like his five very good cook books thrown into other assorted countries but then Charlie isn’t French, Italian or Chinese now is he. But its the very top shelf that got to me — first with an allergy attack because dust had been gathering up there for at least 30 years. The other way it got to me was what was there, mainly sort of ancient pamphlets and booklets given out by various companies with recipes. You know, Jello Company on how to make 20 kinds of fruit jello molds. I realized that pre-Julia Child we actually used those things.

Before my EBay seller gets them I’ll go into a bit of detail for you:

True Grits Cookbook

True Grits by Rosa Tusa and Sam C. Rawls is a book for “Yankees who don’t know a ‘Limping Susan’ from a ‘Hopping John’, and for Southerners too, who always wanted to know but were afraid to ask.” I wanted to know how to make a Hopping John? I can’t believe it. Even at my youngest most unsophisticated I could never have wanted to make a Hopping John.  But he’s been up there waiting for me. One pound dried black-eyed peas, 1/2 pound salt pork sliced, 1 teaspoon Tabasco….No I don’t think so.

The Best of Kahlua has some stains on it and I can see why. Kahlua Chocolate Pralines, Black Russian Brownies, Kahlua Eggnog Pie. Yes, this one might have a second life with me. Rennie of course being a little dog can’t have chocolate — not that she hasn’t tried.

"Well if I can't have chocolate a girl's got to have some fun!"

"Well if I can't have chocolate a girl's got to have some fun!"

The James River Plantations Cookbook: A Glimpse Into the Homes and Kitchens of Old Virginia. Berkeley Pecan Pie served with Shirley Sauce: 1/2 pound butter, 10 tablespoons brown sugar, yolks of 2 eggs, 10 wineglasses of wine, 1 glass brandy. I think not. I like my guests able to carry on some sort of conversation with dessert not pass out from the sauce. Aunt Lucy’s Fat Pie is even worse for you than Shirley’s sauce. But the riverside homes are lovely.

James River Plantation Cookbook

Shirley Plantation color photo: On the mahogany sideboard in the dining room of Shirley rests the silver saucepan in which the Wine Sauce always was made.

James River Plantations Cookbook

James River Plantations Cookbook

Crepes and Other Flaming Desserts: Reminds me of night long ago when my best friend, the late Consuelo Courtright La Cava’s father Hernando Courtright was opening a very fancy new dining room at the Beverly Hills Hotel he called the Persian Room. I think he was influenced by the cabaret of the same name in the old Plaza Hotel where a singer named Hildegard offered dramatic love songs nightly while she peeled off her opera length gloves and waved a huge silk handkerchief. We had been through course after course of flaming soup, flaming shish kebab, cherries jubilee made at our tables, when I looked up and saw a waiter rushing by with a dish we hadn’t been served. I stopped the waiter and said, “We haven’t had one of those!” He called back over his shoulder as he dashed on, “You don’t want it. The bread tray caught fire!”

A dusty little book The Big Spread – an Encylopedia of Hors d’oeuvres and Canapes by Ruth Chier Rosen. First page I turned to was Chopped Liver Pineapple. No I think I’ll pass.  Thousand Island Dip? No. Bacon wrapped around Watermelon pickles.

Next booklet…

The Seven day Milk Diet for Women doesn’t even specify non-fat? Next…

The Zodiac Diet Cook Book 1970. Okay I’m Scorpio. Scorpio – You are the most passionate of any othe zodiacal sign… Alright but what should I eat on my diet? Tomato Aspic. I thought that went out with dinosaurs. But in fairness looking back it was kind of good.

Wick and Lick – A Gazette of Chafing Dish Specialties; This was probably a necessity considering when I got married in 1956 Sterling silver chafing dishes were a gift of choice. I got nine of them and two copper. Well there’s a recipe for Cherries Jubilee. I do have three of the chafing dishes packed away somewhere. Maybe worth a try. Oh but last chapter is Menu for Safety and that cautions more than 1/3 of injuries from home accidents occur in the kitchen. One more thing good about Trader Joe’s pop ’em in the oven and heat as opposed to flaming in a chafing dish.

Here’s one Cointreau – The Slow Glow: Well not so slow if they use Shirley’s Sauce proportions.

A collection of Choice Recipes by St. Jude Hospital Guild 1963-1964; Even a children’s hospital guild can’t get off the alcohol kick. Grasshoppers for Eight takes 1 quart vanilla ice cream, 1 cup green Creme de Menthe, 2 cups milk, 1 cup Vodka. But I have to admit I used to drink things like that long ago. Oh those late late nights when the night clubs on the Sunset Strip closed and we gathered at a small place on lower La Cienega to hear a wonderful young Afro-American pianist and singer name Bobby Short. We’d sit at the piano bar enraptured drinking things like Pink Squirrels. I get nauseaus even writing the name now.

Here’s an old yellowed booklet A Cook’s Tour – Plantation Recipes from the Bayou. The drawings of homes are enchanting. Oreilles de Cochon or Pigs Ears that starts with a heaping teaspoon of lard not so appealing. Rabbit Sauce Piquant which calls for 3 wild rabbits cut in serving pieces could be easily supplied in Santa Barbara the last couple of years. We’ve had rabbit epidemic but oh those tiny bunnies munching on our lawns and leaves are so adorable who could possibly…

Now here’s one I’ll hang on to because there is a blog brewing about a trip I took long before Castro to Cuba with my parents.

Cuna Del Daiquiri Cocktail – La Habana Cuba. You have to wait for that one. So does Ebay.

How to Dress, Ship and Cook Wild Game 1945 Remington Arms Company Inc. Didn’t expect to find them in the cookbook business! It covers everything from opossum, raccoon, woodchuck to mountain sheep, caribou, moose and elk. EBay gets that one.

The Hawaiian Homemaker’s Favorite Island Recipes 1956. But what’s an Hawaiian recipe booklet without a recipe for Poi. They have a Poi Cocktail that calls for 4 cups milk, sugar, salt, nutmeg, vanilla, rum and 2/3 cup poi. But how do you make poi? I never liked it really but Hawaii without poi? Ebay.

Well this gives you an idea. There are at least 50 more. In conclusion I’ll say one thing “Thank heavens for Julia Child… and Trader Joe’s!”

Beverley Jackson and Julia Child

One of nights I was a participant in Julia's TV show that was filmed in a Hope Ranch home in Santa Barbara

By The Way
This blog was started to sell my new book and I keep going off on other topics. Please do check out The Beautiful Lady Was A Palace Eunuch at Amazon.com
Acknowledgement:
Kathleen Fetner, Technical Advisor and Friend
Categories My Life

What Svetlana Stalin and I had in Common

by Beverley
December 5th, 2011

A friend asked me, “Did you ever know Svetlana Stalin Peters who just died?” And my answer was “No, but I read her first book and I did have a one-evening indirect contact with her. “That indirect contact with her was I had her ex-husband, the late William Wesley Peters, as my dinner partner at Frank Lloyd Wright’s Taliesin West on one occasion. His widow Olgivanna Lloyd Wright, a former Serb Montenegrin dancer, had learned my beau Dwight Hart was in Phoenix, Arizona where Taliesin West is located. Mrs. Wright had been quite attracted to Dwight during her stays at the Clift Hotel in San Francisco which he ran for Bob Odell who owned the Clift and the Santa Barbara Biltmore. So upon hearing he was visiting near her Taliesin West she immediately called and invited him to dine. Dwight informed her he could come if he was able to bring the friend he was traveling with and she said he could bring the friend.

Mrs. Wright, having expected a male friend was amazingly rude to me the entire evening. After being introduced she immediately turned me over to architect Wes Peters who had been married for 20 months to the daughter of Josef Stalin. A wedding Mrs. Wright had arranged. The handover to Peters was fine with me. Wes Peters proved to be a charming, very intelligent and amusing gentleman. He showed me some of the more hidden fascinating areas of Taliesin West before we went in to dine. Not surprisingly he turned out to be my dinner partner with my date Dwight far away at the end of the very long table next to the hostess. Dinner was good though uninspired. What surprised me was we were waited on by young men who were students at Taliesin West. All wore expensive perfectly fitted evening clothes. Dwight had been informed that dinner was black tie and fortunately I had packed a very pretty long gown for another event in Phoenix. I was told that the young future architects serving us paid at least $50,000 a year to study at Taliesin West in those days, study and wait table for Mrs. Wright! That was a great deal of money in the 1970’s! The other dinner guests were all male, basically the top men at Taliesin West. After Frank Lloyd Wright’s death it obviously was a male operation run by a matriarch.

Wes made a fascinating dinner partner. I plied him with questions about Falling Waters in Mill Run, PA, one of Wright’s most famous commissions, as well as the Guggenheim Museum in New York City which Wes also worked on. And I told him the saga of my mother deciding when I was about eight that I had a speaking voice that needed improving. I mumbled! She found a retired British Shakespearean actor named Guy Bates Post and once a week I was deposited at a fascinating Frank Lloyd Wright home in the Los Feliz area where he rented a room for teaching. The fascinating luxury home had been reduced to a sort of Frank Lloyd Wright boarding house! It wasn’t the huge Ennis House on the hill recently purchased by Ron Burkle, nor Wright’s famous Hollyhock House, but a small residence on Franklin Avenue basically unknown today in the shadow of the other two. To me it was rather Persian more than Mayan in concept and once inside there was a long narrow courtyard surrounded by the long narrow house. And there was a long narrow pool with water lilies just inside the courtyard. I remember it well because once I wasn’t paying attention and I fell into it. I don’t remember a lot about Mr. Post except he was very dramatic and smelled of alcohol most of the time. But I guess he did his job because my mother was very satisfied with my speaking voice when the lessons concluded, no more mumbling, and I ended up winning lots of debating contests in high school. I sometimes thought however that these were based more upon my speaking voice than my logic!!

Well while I’m on this subject… A few years ago I was in Los Angeles with some time to spare and went exploring the Los Felix area where I grew up. And I swung by the Wright house where I learned not to mumble. The exterior looked the same. Some men were hauling out furniture that had been used inside for a just concluded photo shoot. I asked one of them if there was anyone in charge inside and he said the property manager. I went in and the very nice gentleman showed me around. Not much was changed except no sign of the pool. He told me that investigators had been curious about the house because the main suspect for the Black Dahlia murders, a doctor, had rented rooms there at one time. He told me it was suspected there might be other bodies buried somewhere. At that point I said had anyone checked where the original pool was. “What pool?” Well I’ve never heard if they checked but the Philip Marlow in me says that’s where the bodies are!!!

Now back to Taliesin West: Following dinner we all piled into golf carts to go from the dining room to the theatre for a movie. Dwight was whisked off first with our hostess and I went in another one with Wes. And Dwight and I were further separated by all possible distance in the theatre. However I couldn’t have been sent into Siberia for a total evening with a more delightful partner than the late William Wesley Peters, sadly known mainly for having been married for 20 months to dreaded dictator Josef Stalin’s daughter who has just died at the age of 85.

Incidentally what film did we see that night? Expecting something intellectual I was most surprised when the Beatles came on in “A Hard Day’s Night”. Dwight slept through the film to Mrs. Wright’s very obvious annoyance.

In one of the obits I’ve read Lana Peters, as Stalin’s daughter chose to be called in America, had one comment for the press when she divorced Wes Peters and left Taliesin West: “I came away less than glowingly impressed by the matriach and management of Taliesin.” So while I never met Stalin’s daughter, we really did have something in common!

And while I’m into to things Russian, the great Danish ballet dancer David Hallberg, who recently left New York Ballet to become a principle dancer in Moscow to dance with the famed Bolshoi company and particularly to partner Natalia Osipova, hasn’t gotten off to such a great start as you might or might not have read. Before they could dance together Osipova accepted a too tempting to turn down invitation to join the Mikhailovsky Theater in St. Petersburg. And even worse, although his opening night reviews at the Bolshoi dancing Sleeping Beauty were greatest raves possible, it turns out he sprained his ankle near the very beginning of the performance. But the show of perfection went on! Interviewed a few days later he confessed he told no one of his accident until the performance was over. “Russians love that kind of drama in the theater. It would have been really dramatic, but nothing would have been accomplished. When stress sets in and pressure, I focus. Had it (sprained ankle) happened two days before it would have been a catastrophe because now I can’t dance. I can barely walk right now.”

Well from now on every time I wake up in the morning with aches and pains instead of complaining I’ll think of David Hallberg and the show going on achieving greatness in the world of dance.

Darci Kistler and Beverley Jackson

Darci Kistler and Beverley Jackson at USCB Faculty Club. The interesting wood paneling behind us was part of a ceiling purchased for UCSB Faculty Club from William Randolph Hearst’s San Simeon.

Speaking of great ballet dancers, beautiful sweet magnificent dancer Darci Kistler, now retired at age 47 from the New York City Ballet, was in Santa Barbara several weeks ago. And I had the great fortune to be one of a very small group invited to watch a Master Class she conducted with ballet students at University of California Santa Barbara. It was quite wonderful to watch her turn shy, frightened or untalented or both, students into glowing performers. Her kind encouraging words were there for all. “Beautiful!” she exclaimed when a step was finally performed correctly after some very bad mistakes. Again and again she instilled if not confidence at least momentary pride. Not all Master Classes are conducted so graciously.

Following the event Darci, Annette Caleel, Dilling Yang (wife of UCSB Chancellor Henry Yang) and several others and I enjoyed luncheon together in the Faculty Club. Darci confessed that when she was young she wanted to be a singer but she had no voice so she turned to dance. Good choice! And now her 15 year old daughter wants to sing. And she has a fine voice. Well two great dancers in a family are really enough. Darci is married to Peter Martins, Ballet Master in Chief of New York City Ballet where he danced from 1967 until he retired 1983. Maybe it is time for a singer in the Martins family…

By The Way
This blog was started to sell my new book and I keep going off on other topics. Please do check out The Beautiful Lady Was A Palace Eunuch at Amazon.com
Acknowledgement:
Kathleen Fetner, Technical Advisor and Friend
Categories Editorial, My Life

Are your Penguins Warmly Dressed in Case of an Oil Spill?

by Beverley
November 26th, 2011

I have to thank a favorite blog Fashionista.com for the following story, just too cute not to pass along. After all, how many of us could know that a cozy wool sweater could save the lives of adorable little penguins caught in an oil spill? New Zealanders found out during a recent disastrous oil spill off their coast the value of little wool sweaters. They prevented the penguins from preening their feather and ingesting the oil that could kill them. Penguins coated in oil, when quickly tucked into warm sweaters, were able to survive until rescue workers could get them cleaned up.

According to Fashionista.com an independent green news site GIST put out a call for knitters to quickly come to the penguin’s rescue and New Zealanders heeded the call. In fact they heeded so well ultimately the word had to go out no more sweaters needed.

A yarn company Skeinz published a pattern for knitters. You need a pair of 3.25mm needles, 1 pair of 3.75mm needles and a set of 3.25mm. dpn’s or circular. You must use 100% wool yarn. Cast on 36 stitches using 3.25 needle. K1, P1 to end of row and repeat this row seven times. Change to 3.25mm needles… Well, why don’t you just email me if you really want to make this sweater for your penguin.

And while I’m talking about cute things, look at a birthday present I received from brilliant costume jewelry designer in Paris Natalie Bernhard. Absolutely adorable. I had asked Natalie if she’d seen these brand new Karl Lagerfeld eyeshadows made in his shape in Paris. They have just come out but are only for sale in Europe and Singapore. America won’t have them for many months.

Being so far away Natalie didn’t know my standard procedure for birthday presents for me. They are supposed to be new toys to be given as gifts at Christmas to children of families living at Transition House, children who have very little since their parents have lost their jobs and homes.

So in her innocence Natalie sent me this delightful gift, the most wonderful surprise. She actually sent her mother off searching for them so it was a family project.

There is one problem however, they are really too adorable to use. But I certainly am enjoying looking at them on my dressing table!

By The Way
This blog was started to sell my new book and I keep going off on other topics. Please do check out The Beautiful Lady Was A Palace Eunuch at Amazon.com
Acknowledgement:
Kathleen Fetner, Technical Advisor and Friend
Categories My Life

Good Can Be Followed Closely By Bad As I’ve Experienced This Past Week

by Beverley
November 21st, 2011

Since I try to keep this blog positive and up and hopefully interesting I’ll start with the good first. I had a wonderful 83rd birthday with all sorts of celebrations with real family as well as three of my adopted families. I of course wish it had been my 50th birthday but I’m not complaining. I may be slowed down a bit by health problems but I’m still having a wonderful life and still able to contribute to those in need and other such things that have always been of major importance to me!!! Speaking of which, everyone brought a huge number of gifts which was very heartwarming since the only gifts I allowed had to be new toys to be delivered to Transition House for Christmas gifts for children there. Transition House is a very worthwhile organization in Santa Barbara that helps families who have lost their jobs and homes until they can get back on their feet.

The bad was the loss of three people I tremendously admired and in two cases truly loved very much. First was wonderful Evelyn Lauder who has been a dear friend for so many years. I’m sure you have been reading endless articles on this fabulous woman the world has just lost. Her great work for breast cancer research, the pink ribbon project she started that grew to world wide proportions, the parks she and Leonard donated for underprivileged areas — these and so much more that was done very privately. So I’ll just say a bit about personal reasons for my love and respect of her. Evelyn was always there as a friend. Not just fun lunches at Le Cirque when I was in New York. She was there when I had a frightening medical diagnosis and within a half hour after a call to her in New York she had set me up with the finest doctor in the USA in the field I needed. A man otherwise impossible to get an appoint with in less than a year or more. When my daughter was trying to get my granddaughter into a New York kindergarten, more difficult than being accepted at Harvard or Princeton or Yale!!! I went to Evelyn though I hated to ask such favors. I knew the demands on her were endless. But knowing how major it was to my daughter I did and Evelyn not only wrote a letter of recommendation but hand carried it and personally presented it to the headmistress. She was also responsible for kickstarting my daughter’s career as a scriptwriter. After going with me to a reading of a play my daughter had written and hearing my tale of woe about the difficulties she was having finding an agent Evelyn sent a copy of the script to her close friend, a leading theatrical agent in New York, and a successful career was off and running. Evelyn Lauder was not only a wonderful friend to thousands, she was a miracle maker and a magnificent human being.

Then I lost a dear friend of more than 40 years, artist Jack Baker. I first met Jack when we moved to Santa Barbara in 1963 and I became active in the Art Affiliates of UCSB where he was a major participant. Jack and I worked together for the group and his then wife Lynn and Jack became dear friends.

Jack was the most wonderfully UP person. He thought life was beautiful and if it wasn’t he helped make it so both physically and with his glorious colorful paintings. His travels were an inspiration to others to be more adventurous in their travels. And he brought back so much color from his travels which showed up in his paintings and his tales of travel. After a trip to India with the late Hattie von Breton and Guy and Sylvia Roop he and Lynn recreated a two story tall beautifully lighted replica of the Taj Mahal over the dressing rooms for their swimming pool at their downtown Santa Barbara home. This was for their Indian themed “we’re back in Santa Barbara” party where he taught us Indian dances in the early morning hours. Jack gave great parties! The years he spent in Ethiopia tutoring Emperor Haile Selassie children and grandchildren influenced some his greatest paintings. He loved his gardens and flowers and he created magic with both. Color was everywhere in his far from conventional home. I remember one dreary Christmas eve driving down to Rincon in horrendous rain. But entering the house we found springtime. Instead of Christmas decorations the house and dinner table were filled with crates of brightly colored primrose. And somewhere he had found great branches of fruit tree blossoms in December.

I could tell so many Jack Baker stories. The time I went to visit Jack and Fred Gowland in Jack’s house on a tiny remote peninsula in Maine where he lived for some years during a sabbatical from Santa Barbara. One day Fred had gone out lobstering at five in the morning and came back with 15 live lobsters. So Jack prepared a real Maine lobster dinner. He did a great table for the three of us covered with white paper as was done for lobster feasts in Maine so you could really make a big mess and enjoy them to the fullest. But being Jack he created a wonderous shipwreck scene of rocks and sand and a small boat replica on one end of the table. I was standing in the kitchen being no help at one point when Jack, busy slicing tomatoes, said, “Bev would you please get me some lettuce out of the bottom crisper in the refrigerator.” I jumped to be of service, opened the refrigerator door, started to open the crisper to reach in when claws of 15 live lobsters anxious to escape came after me. They roared with laughter. I didn’t!!! I’ve always thought it was Fred’s idea, but if he had asked me to do it I might have been suspicious. But Jack I trusted!

Sadly serious cancer struck a few years back leaving Jack’s speech impaired and he became very reclusive, seeing almost no one except Fred and occasional visits from his daughters who both live far away. However he lived the life he loved as best he could, walking his beloved Rincon Beach finding treasures in the sand — shells, rocks, tide-worn glass, all of which would end in some decorative fashion in his home; caring for his incredible fern forest and gardens. Gardens and flowers were magic in Jack’s hands.

But he did come out to my 80th Great Gatsby birthday party at the 1929 estate Val Verde to everyone’s amazement and was the hit of the party. I was so happy to relinquish the spotlight to dear Jack who truly shone that night. Except for impaired speech and less hair he was again the Jack of Art Affiliate and party giving and traveling days. See the photograph attached. Sadly it was the last time most of us saw Jack in person as he went back into hiding. But I know he’ll be there right with us at his “bon voyage party” at the Santa Barbara Zoo. He’ll want it to be a colorful happy laughing time. And I hope he and Fred haven’t pre-planned another lobster surprise for any of us with some of the zoo animals to divert us from being sad he isn’t there in person!

Jack Baker and Fred Gowland

Jack Baker in cap and Fred Gowland at my 80th birthday party. My adopted granddaughter Alix de Gramont watching with amusement in the background.

The third loss was someone I’ve been proud to call a friend again for over 40 years, the late Jon Lovelace. He and wife Lillian are people I have known and respected but sadly haven’t seen enough of during the years. They have been quiet family people who contributed tremendous amounts of money anonymously to almost every important cause. I knew in some cases how big their donation was because it was to charities where I was a board member. But they never wanted it known publically. They’ve never wanted their names on plaques or on buildings. There were times at charity benefits where they did show up and I watched them quietly in the background, frequently being ignored by new money people in town making their donations very public. Donations generally SO much less than the Lovelace secret donations. I chuckled thinking if those people only knew. But I have to admit, although I knew John administered the Capital Group mutual fund company his father founded in Los Angeles in 1931 and it handled billions of dollars when there wasn’t even a Forbes billionaire list, only millionaire list, I admit I was pretty surprised reading the large New York Times obituary on Jon to read his company now oversees one trillion dollars in their 40 funds. I wonder what that group who considered their own money was there to be flaunted, and on occasion ignored Jon Lovelace, are making of this figure. I’ll bet Jon is up there chuckling quietly to himself now that his secret is out!

And to end with a laugh, the following was sent to me by Susie Mitchell whose son J.J. is one of my “sort of adopted” children and grand children. J.J. has a really hot/cool, I guess both words work, vintage “Muscle car” in which he just drove Aunt Bubbly (which he’s called me since he was two and still does in his twenties) up to Santa Ynez to visit a friend of mine who has just arrived from Hyderabad. It was indeed an experience!!! Just getting me in and out from a seat practically dragging on the highway is an event. All I can say is when we reached our destination my friend said “What did you arrive in? We heard you coming from half way down the hill!”

DETROIT, Nov. 21, 2011 “The muscle car could only happen in the U.S. because we’re the only ones crazy enough to stuff a V8 into the smallest possible car and scare the hell out of mothers everywhere.”

By The Way
This blog was started to sell my new book and I keep going off on other topics. Please do check out The Beautiful Lady Was A Palace Eunuch at Amazon.com
Acknowledgement:
Kathleen Fetner, Technical Advisor and Friend
Categories My Life

Il Teatro Alla Moda Comes To Beverly Hills

by Beverley
November 14th, 2011

People who love beautiful costumes, appreciate textile creativity and superb workmanship, should head straight to this special exhibition (Theater in Fashion translated from the Italian). Wallis Annenberg has brought the exhibition to Beverly Hills in connection with the Wallis Annenberg Center for the Performing Arts in the historic Italianate style 1933 Beverly Hills Post Office currently being restored. The Center won’t be ready for opening until the fall of 2013, but that didn’t stop Wallis. She found a wonderful site on North Beverly Drive where the exhibition has been installed. It was scheduled to be in Beverly Hills for only one month, then back to Italy to a museum in Venice but it has just been announced it will be staying in Beverly Hills until December 15th now.

This perfectly spectacular exhibition consists of costumes designed by the greatest Italian haute couture designers for opera, ballet and concert soloists. It has previously been shown in Rome and Milan, and as I mentioned above heads back to Italy and the city of canals and gondolas from California. The curator of this exhibition, Massimiliano Capella, has assembled the most colorful assortment of costumes that explore the relationship between the performing arts and the great Italian designers. Those designers are Armani, Capucci, Coveri, Ferretti, Fendi, Gigli, Marras, Missoni, Ungaro, Valentino and Versace.

There is one exception to Italians in this exhibition, French Coco Chanel. She does show up everywhere doesn’t she. Another new book about her, films, documentaries. And now she’s found her way into an all Italian exhibition! But she really deserves to be there for the important part she had in Serge Diaghilev’s Ballet Russe production of Jean Cocteau‘s Le Tren Bleu in 1924. This production took place at the Theatre of the Champs-Elysees which has special meaning for me. The theatre was built by the late Madame Ganna Walska whom I had the honor of having a correspondence with for some years and meeting just once. It was a very emotional meeting at her famous Santa Barbara Lotusland gardens and home. But that is a very special story I’ll share with you all one day. Fortunately my good friend Hania Tallmadge, Madame’s niece, was there with a camera and there is a photograph to document the momentous meeting with tiny Madame in her nineties and me hugging and crying. About the Theatre, after singing not too successfully in an opera she produced in the fine theatre she’d built, Madame gave the theatre to the City of Paris.

Oh dear, there I go straying again! Back to Coco! Her representation in the Italian exhibition is a marvelous bathing suit made of jersey, a fabric previously only worn by the working class in France. Over it was a striking Japanese style white kimono printed in black that I truly coveted. The curator has found a drawing of one of the other bathing suits for Le Tren Bleu which is pictured here. One highlight of this great ballet in 1924 Wallis wasn’t able to bring over was the famous curtain Pablo Picasso designed for the Theatre de Champs Elysee. The curtain stretches to over 34 feet by 38 feet. Serge Diaghilev always did think big! After spending most of last 80 years in storage it was taken out and shown at the Victoria and Albert Museum in London in the autumn of 2010.

Now let’s look at some pictures of the costumes in the exhibition: I was particularly delighted by Gianni Versace’s Bavarian costumes for the 1989 production of Doktor Faustus. Spectacular in black and white basically, but one with a Mondrian like design in color on one side. Here you see front and side view plus one of the original designs by Versace. Another of the Bavarian costumes in all black and white that really caught the eye is also pictured.

One of most striking gowns in the exhibition was a red georgette Capucci design with cascading double ruffles made for Katia Riccarelli to wear for a Paris concert. And since we usually associate the opera Salome with seven veils and things like that Gianni Versace’s design for Helga Dernesch to wear playing Herodias in Salome comes as a major surprise! It’s very up to date black silk crepe de chine, pleated and draped with a sensational black velvet skirt. A design for this gown is also shown here.

Missoni costumes for a production of Lucia di Lammermoor performed in Milan’s Teatro all Scala are also a major surprise. This opera was the second opera I ever saw when I was very young and my memories are of Lily Pons in something chiffony swirling around her, not Scottish plaids and kilt. But Missoni saw kilt in tartans of orange and blue. He dressed Luciano Pavarotti singing the role of Sir Edgardo di Ravenswood in pants of big tartan geometric pattern of blue, burgundy and black with burgundy leather cloak and gray wool tam with pom pom. I’d love to have seen that! Sadly I don’t even have a photo to show, only a description. But we can use our imaginations can’t we!

By The Way
This blog was started to sell my new book and I keep going off on other topics. Please do check out The Beautiful Lady Was A Palace Eunuch at Amazon.com
Acknowledgement:
Kathleen Fetner, Technical Advisor and Friend
Categories Editorial

Life Was More Glamorous Then

by Beverley
November 8th, 2011

All the most colorful people showed up in Santa Barbara in the 1970’s and 1980’s. Here is an article in W Magazine January 4-11, 1980. The very well known Clare Boothe Luce came to town and the great philanthropist and fun hostess Gladys Knapp gave a party for her. Since the article may be difficult to read I’ll tell you what it says:

Santa Barbara — Clare Boothe Luce was her old opinionated self as she discussed a variety of topics that ranged from politics to power and the decline of elegance. It was during a party here hosted by Gladys Knapp.

Many of Santa Barbara’s BP [beautiful people – a popular term then] were in attendance, including Hall and Leonore Adams [Oprah Winfrey has since bought their charming home next door to her big estate to house her trainer!], Mary and Gordon Douglas, Stewart and Katherine Abercrombie, Barbara and Robert Straus and Beverley Jackson.

‘It looks delicious,’ said Virginia Martini, but she avoided the venison flown in for the dinner and picked at the whipped potatoes and sorrel between anecdotes about her former husband Cary Grant and her life as the Countess of Jersey.

There was applause as David Knapp introduced Luce as ‘a woman for all seasons’, and she responded with, ‘I love old things — old wine, old books and most of all old friends.’ She then toasted the guests with ‘Here’s to the elite, before it disappears off the face of the earth.’

Luce (in town as honorary chairman of the St. Francis Hospital charity benefit set for next spring) lamented today’s loss of elegance. ‘Everything is ground down to one comfortable mediocrity,’ she observed.

Would Luce consider another political stint? ‘I resigned. I wasn’t beaten,’ she quickly pointed out. ‘The thought of being in politics again turns my blood cold. Politics is a terribly non-creative thing, a scrimmage and a place for second rate talents.'”

The young readers probably don’t know much about Clare Booth Luce. She was a very colorful woman. Many will remember her as the author of the great play and movie “The Women”. Others will remember her as the wife of powerful Henry Luce, owner and publisher of Life, Fortune and Time Magazines. Some remember her as a very involved convert to Catholicism in 1946 following the death of her daughter, a Stanford University student in an auto accident. There was a joke that went around — Mrs. Luce was having an audience with the Pope. She kept going on and on about the value of being a Catholic. Finally the Pope interjected, “But Mrs. Luce. I’m already a Catholic!” During WWII she served as a foreign correspondent for her husband’s magazines on the frontlines in Netherlands, France, Italy and Belgium. She served as a Congresswoman from Fairfield County, CT. And with her husband was a great promoter of Generalissimo Chiang Kai-Shek and his wife Mei-ling Soong, neither of whom have ended great favorites of mine after my 35 years of research on China, Chinese history and Chinese custom. Clare Booth Luce died in 1987, still very active at age 84.

If you can’t read the captions under the pictures that is Mrs. Luce and Leigh Block of Montecito and Chicago. Leigh and wife Mary had a great collection of Impressionist paintings that were left to Chicago Art Institute, a museum of which he was head of the board at one time. Mary’s father Albert Lasker had one of greatest collections of Impressionist paintings in the United States. Luce is hugging the hostess in the next photo. That’s beautiful Loretta Young with interior designer Guy Roop. His book on Palladian Villas has become a sought after out-of-print treasure. Mary and Gordon Douglas who owned the lovely Montecito estate Il Brolino where they created great topiary gardens which are still maintained by present owners Bui and Herb Simon. Penny Williams whose grandfather Sam Mosher owned Signal Oil. I’m wearing an antique Chinese coat talking to Barbara Straus whose husband Bobby Straus (Macy’s family) was one of Santa Barbara’s most loved men, a war hero, a great gentleman, the grandson of Ida and Isador Straus who went down with the Titanic with great dignity. Then there is marvelous Virginia Martini and last Gladys Knapp with Dr. Don Patterson. Mary Douglas now lives in Charleston, SC. Last I heard Penny Williams and her family were in Australia I think it was. Sadly only the three of us are still alive. Even lovely old St. Francis Hospital has been torn down to make space for affordable housing for nursing staff at the Cottage Hospital.

By The Way
This blog was started to sell my new book and I keep going off on other topics. Please do check out The Beautiful Lady Was A Palace Eunuch at Amazon.com
Acknowledgement:
Kathleen Fetner, Technical Advisor and Friend
Categories My Life

Bouncing in a Bubble

by Beverley
October 31st, 2011
Kathy and Alain Clenet and I in front of a row of his 14 vintage Clenet cars.

Kathy and Alain Clenet and I in front of a row of his 14 vintage Clenet cars.

The Concours d’Elegance came to Santa Barbara and I couldn’t resist attending. It was a lovely autumn day. As always a wonderful assortment of cars were being shown — old cars, rare cars, “Woodies” one of which, a two seat convertible, I  coveted. But what really caught my interest was “Bubble Fun”. Maybe you’ve seen it but I never have. It was something to keep the children amused once they’d had their fill of antique Rolls, Packards, Ferraris, etc.

The concession consisted of an area with a big pile of plastic forms that will blow up into giant see through balls and a very large plastic pool of water.  The children, one at a time, climb into one of these transparent plastic forms and a man blows them up with I presume oxygen because no one was gasping for breath. Once blown up to proper size they get zipped tight and rolled into the big plastic water-filled pool. A woman standing near me comented “Just like my hamsters” as we watched the children running in the balls as they rolled over and over in the water. Actually a friend has just told me her grandson has a plastic bubble he blows up to put his hamster in at night to keep the family cat from getting it while they sleep. And the hamster seems totally comfortable in his bubble she reported. It looked like such fun! The friend I was with watched my enthusiasm cautiously and finally said, “Don’t get any ideas!” He was right. It was for children.

 
 

Another highlight of this Concours was seeing my dear very long time friends Kathy and Alain Clenet and their children and grandchildren. And their extended family that included 14 of Alain’s legendary Clenet cars on display. An entire Clenet Car Club was represented. In 1975 Alain started building these fabulous cars in a garage in Santa Barbara. Ultimately he outgrew the garage and went on to airplane hangers. The cars were sheer luxury in every detail and were bought by customers like Silverster Stallone, King Husssein of Jordan and I remember one man from Saudi Arabia who ordered about 20 of the to give as gifts. Very expensive gifts! Alain later was designing cars in China and now he is… well he’s such an interesting man I’m going to let you Google him and get the whole story!

Another friend Michael Gross has a brand new book out Unreal Estate that really captures the reader and holds them, especially anyone who knows the Los Angeles area. Having made a big success with his most recent book 740 Park Avenue telling the stories behind the billionaires who lived and live in this New York building at 740 Park Avenue, he is now telling all about the history of a group of old mansions in Beverly Hills, Bel Air, and Holmby Hills and all the gossip on the developers, oil millionaires and silent film stars who originally built them. He goes right through the various owners to the billionaires who now call these places home.  Home does seem like much too cozy a word for me to use here. Don’t get ideas of a happy little house filled with happy people please.

There was a small amount of information I was able to give Michael for this riveting new book and he very graciously acknowledged this in the book as my friend Lisa See acknowledged me in her best seller Snow Flower and the Secret Fan. I mention this because all I have to do is Google “Chinese Footbinding” and I can about 50 pages of sites for papers, articles and books now out on the subject I wrote the first complete book on in 1998 that have taken the majority of their material from my book. And no sign of any acknowledgement there! So I am most grateful to Michael and Lisa. But then they are big time authors with manners.

We read about the books that sell over a million copies like these two authors but one wonders realistically how many copies do most books sell? I’ve always been pleased with how many tens of thousands my Splendid Slippers has sold since 1998, and still going strong in latest Random House printing. My other books have done as expected since two of them were expensive very focused books meant only for collectors, museum libraries, auction house libraries etc. One of these Kingfisher Blue with only 2,000 printed sold out and last year there were two used copies for sale for $1,350 each on Amazon. And they sold!! I called my publisher and asked if I was dead and didn’t know it.  I didn’t know books of living authors could demand such a price. Now the $50 book can be bought used for about $300.  Incidentally I made $4.70 a copy for this book! Well there was a decent advance too.

But again what do most books sell? I started checking it out and found 500 copies is a good average.  And now I discover that of the six shortlisted books for the coveted 2011 British Booker Award the best seller of the six was A. D. Miller’s Snowdrops. And this book sold only 11,800 copies!

So if many of you think you are going to write a best seller and make millions of dollars, maybe you’d better spend that time doing something more promising!

By The Way
This blog was started to sell my new book and I keep going off on other topics. Please do check out The Beautiful Lady Was A Palace Eunuch at Amazon.com
Acknowledgement:
Kathleen Fetner, Technical Advisor and Friend
Categories My Life

Some Moan and Groan, Some Try to Do Something  About Problems

by Beverley
October 24th, 2011

I write a lot about yesterdays. And maybe I imply yesterday was better. It probably was if only because I was younger and more able to cope. Sometimes coping takes a tremendous amount of control and sometimes imagination. For instance yesterday when I was approaching emotional liftoff after more than half an hour of pushing numbers which a robot voice on United Air phone line kept dictating I push, as well as  listening to George Gershwin’s Rhapsody in Blue, United Air version, for at least thousandth time. Suddenly I got inventive. How would I be conducting this Gershwin treasure if I were Alan Gilbert as compared to how the late Leopold Stokowski might have conducted it. The telephone receiver became Gilbert’s violin. Yes I was on my old fashioned landline. I live in an area where power outages are frequent and we need one. My pen became Stokowski’s baton. A little small but I was improvising.   I tossed my hair wildly as Leopold got into full motion, my baton slashing the air with tremendous force. You know the part — da, da, DAH, da…. Luckily I was clutching Alan’s violin near my ear with my left hand when unbelievably a live person announced herself on his violin, well, my landline receiver, and asked most serenely if she could assist me — that was just before she disconnected us.

But this is leading somewhere. To a very interesting article in Sunday October 23rd New York Times Art & Leisure section. The Worlds Poor: Rescued by Design by Michael Kimmelman to be exact. Mr. Kimmelman writes about an exhibition in the United Nations visitor’s lobby organized by the Cooper-Hewitt National Design Museum.

The exhibition is all about simple ideas to help the poorest people in the world. Tackling the problem of schools for children of frequently moving migrant construction workers in the booming area of Pune, Indian school buses, but not the usual ones, proved an ideal solution. These are schools in buses — buses equipped with classrooms for 25 children who are picked  up where they live. And when parents must move to another location they are connected with school room buses in their new area. This system is now fortunately being brought into the frighteningly crowded slum areas of Mumbai, New Delhi and other cities.  Hopefully this is just the beginning of a project that will spread throughout India.

In Kibera, Naurobi, Kenya someone designed a huge square “stove” with areas for many cooking pots heated by a central unit fueled by refuse the women collect as payment for using the community stove. Brilliant idea. Rural Chinese should have similar to eliminate all the small coal stoves spewing toxic fumes into their tiny huts.

The statistics are frightening in Mr. Kimmelman’s article. Over a billon people live in horrifying slums today. I’ve seen the favelas in Rio myself, one area mentioned. What is really frightening however is the prediction that by 2050 One in three people on the planet will be living in favelas or chapros in Nepal or barrios in Ecuador etc. And we have areas in this country too that are nothing to be proud of.

The seemingly small creative projects featured in this exhibition become big when you look at them as a beginning in solving momentous problems. A beginning indicates moving forward not just ignoring and accepting. More power to the creative minds moving us forward.

By The Way
This blog was started to sell my new book and I keep going off on other topics. Please do check out The Beautiful Lady Was A Palace Eunuch at Amazon.com
Acknowledgement:
Kathleen Fetner, Technical Advisor and Friend
Categories Editorial

Sharing a Bumpy Bathroom With President Jack Kennedy’s Sisters & Nieces

by Beverley
October 18th, 2011

There was an aura of an Agatha Christie mystery brewing when one boarded the newly restored glamorous Venice Simplon-Orient Express in 1983. The abandoned 1920’s Pullman cars that James Sherwood had located around the world had been restored to their original elegance. Every detail from the Lalique glass panels and intricate wood marquetry to the uniforms worn by the porters and dining room attendants was exactly like the original.

Five of us were on this train journey in September 1983, having first spent three nights in London at Claridge’s. Our trip was a fancy press junket arranged by prestigious PR representative Mary Homi who handled the Savoy Group Hotels (Claridge’s, Berkeley, Connaught, Savoy, Lancaster in Paris) as well as the as all James Sherwood’s 5 star hotels and his Simplon-Orient Express train. The group was made up of society columnists from New York, Palm Beach, Palm Springs and Santa Barbara. Mary made five. And it was glamour all the way! While we were in London I noted in the morning paper that the exciting Night of 100 Stars charity theatre event would take place the night we returned from Venice. Among the stars performing was Charles Dance. I was and still am a tremendous fan of this English actor. Reading about the event I decided I simply had to see him perform in person. Fellow traveler, my long time friend Gloria Greer the Palm Springs representative, was all for it too so we purchased VIP tickets including the after performance reception before taking off on our rail adventure. Something to look forward at the end of our journey.

Paris station Orient Express Gloria Greer

Gloria Greer second from right facing camera at the Paris stop.

Excitement was high as we boarded the train in London. The “All Aboard” call sounded loud and clear and we clamored aboard and found our compartments with childlike enthusiasm. Our luggage, having last been seen in our rooms at Claridge’s, awaited us in our compartments. That’s the way travel was then but I’ve already told you about that in my blog on sailing the Atlantic on the S.S. United States in 1953. And believe me those memories are kept alive any time I venture out of Santa Barbara dragging bags on wheels and backpacks and purses hanging from my shoulders with no one to lend a hand.

The train compartments were small but most comfortable. Linens on the beds were fine perfectly ironed Irish linen. All was perfection especially the service of all the train employees. Bathrooms were a bit of a drawback however. In those days you didn’t have bathroom facilities attached to your compartments. You marched in nightgown, bathrobe and bedroom slippers down to the end of the car to the one bathroom per railroad car, tooth brush and towels in hand. Now this was perfectly fine going to Venice as there men occupying the other compartments in my car and they got in there, brushed there teeth and did whatever else needed doing and got out. It was on the return trip, Venice to London that my bathroom problems arose. On that return somewhere in the middle of the night at a small stop in the Italian Alps four American skiers boarded, Patricia Kennedy Lawford and her daughter, and Jeanne Kennedy Smith and her daughter, sisters and nieces of the president of the United States Jack Kennedy.

Orient Express. Pat Kennedy Lawford and daughter 9/83

Pat Kennedy Lawford center in short fox coat talking to her daughter Victoria left pushing cart.

I met the Kennedy clan early the next morning standing in line waiting to get into the bathroom. Pat Lawford had gotten there first. I’d known her casually in the days when she dated my good friend Alfredo de la Vega, but I didn’t know her bathroom habits. “She takes forever once she gets in there,” Victoria Lawford moaned. Her aunt Jeanne nodded in agreement. What didn’t come out was Jeanne Smith’s daughter didn’t exactly rush through teeth brushing, make up applying etc. either. All I can say is Jeanne Smith and I were practically lifetime friends by the time we left the bumpy hallway and got our turns in that one bathroom.

As I read newspapers today of the wonderful things Jeanne Smith has achieved, Ambassador to Ireland from the United States, her tireless work for the disabled etc. and receiving the Presidential Medal of Freedom, the highest civilian honor given in our country, I remember our brief friendship balancing on the fast moving train with firm grip on our toothbrushes and tooth paste waiting anxiously to get into the bathroom early one morning as our splendid vintage train clicky clacked its way to Paris, then London.

Dinner on the train was true dining in style. Wonderful silk damask cloths and gigantic napkins and shining vintage silver ware dressed the tables. The menu choices were fantastic and the products the kitchen produced were superb. Dining was a very special event on this jaunt. Everyone in the diner was in evening clothes except the Kennedy family who had only ski attire. But it was sweet to notice Jeanne Smith’s daughter, after glancing around the elegantly dressed guests in the dining room, slipped a few small flowers out of the vase of fresh flowers on their dinner table and tucked them into her hair to look more dressed up.

Upon our return to London following the glorious train ride and a 3 day stay at Jim Sherwood’s Hotel Cipriani in Venice, Gloria and I had our tickets for the great charity theatre waiting. It was a most thrilling event. All the biggest names in English theatre, movies, TV, rock stars performed. Interestingly each one did the opposite of what they were known for. A famous opera star sang Rock ‘n Roll. A leading TV comedy star performed a scene from Shakespeare’s King Lear. Charles Dance, known as a serious actor, came out in a tight black tee shirt and jeans and sang Noel Coward’s “Only mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the noon day sun.” Following the performance there was the reception on stage. The Royal Patron for the event, the Duchess of Kent, was the center of attention. But I kept looking for Charles Dance. He finally appeared looking very special in black tie after the black tee shirt. I suddenly became shy so Gloria approached him and asked if she could take a photo of him and me. He was very gracious about it. A few days after her return to Palm Springs I got a call from Gloria, “I have the greatest photo of you and Charles Dance. Will get you a print soon.” That was 1983. I’m still waiting. She still can’t find the negative. But I still have hopes! And memories.

By The Way
This blog was started to sell my new book and I keep going off on other topics. Please do check out The Beautiful Lady Was A Palace Eunuch at Amazon.com
Acknowledgement:
Kathleen Fetner, Technical Advisor and Friend
Categories My Life
« Previous Page
Next Page »
Beverley Jackson
Copyright © 2025 All Rights Reserved
iThemes Builder by iThemes
Powered by WordPress