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Tuesday, 30 August 2011

"If You Go Down to Harrods Today...you're in for a BIG surprise..."

These bears have been hired to keep Mohammed Al Fayed OUT of Harrods.
His waxwork effigy that once stood proud in the Menswear dept. can now be seen standing outside the locked doors of Madame Tussauds.
I guess the only place for him is on Celebrity Big Brother...he can bond with Jedward. And for all you out there who don't know who Jedward are....consider yourselves lucky.

Tuesday, 23 August 2011

From the Sublime to the Ridiculous...

Gerard Depardieu, France's pride and joy and best export actor, a man who is a far cry from decorum and chi chi values....decided that he needed to relieve himself there and then on a flight from Paris to Dublin. By there, I mean on the much trodden carpet of the plane and then, well simply that.... and not the 15mns after take off the stewardess asked him to do. Apparently it was done with as much tack and sophistication as possible...he simply stood up and peed.....
If you can't hold your alcohol,you can't hold your pee....thanks to Mr Depardieu ,both  issues have been tried and tested in front of a live audience.

My friend whose husband is a pilot for a well known airline, told me a fascinating tale about the sunny Kate Hudson. The lovely young actress know for her romcom roles and easy manner  kicked up a fuss on a flight from London to Los Angeles . The reason for her unease? The gentleman sitting across from her in First class was talking on his cellphone.......in Arabic.
Yes, the Lebanese passenger was talking in his mother tongue and Ms Hudson took  immediate affront and sought umbrage with the staff , demanding that the passenger be immediately removed from the plane.
When the message was relayed to the pilot, he asked the stewardess to relay the following message to his valued passenger :" Please tell Ms Hudson that she should rest assured, her pilot is himself Lebanese and has never had any problem getting his passengers to their destination. Now if she feels that she cannot  remain on this flight , then he would be happy to take the necessary measures to have her  disembark at her leisure and continue her journey on another flight."
Ms Hudson's luggage was removed from the plane and left on the tarmac...for as long as it took to clear them and her..... for her next flight.

P.Middy's every move is documented ad nauseum. Yes, today she was papped in Chelsea coming out from her beautician's after having had a wax..yes, even the illustrious P.Middy gets a wax from her local beautician. What I find bewildering is the unnecessary need to proclaim her  "fashionista du jour".
Her mid drift mack may be "trendy"  and yes, nude maxis are in style and yes...she happened to pair it all up with a mustard coloured handbag...I say kudos! Today she has actually come close to dressing like a woman of her age .
Let us really address the "Fashion Police" issue:those horrendous "auntie" peeptoe canvas slingbacks she insists on wearing.

What is up with those? They are so beyond fashion they have actually left this hemisphere and moved on to planet Mumsy. They simply do not figure in any fashion lexicon as something remotely considered as fashionable or dare I say it : sexy footwear. Check the celebs and fashion forward people around you....Daphne Guinness? Angelina Jolie? Even British Kate Winslet?... Hmm ?.....seen anyone of them wearing that particular model of sheer mumsiness?
I didn't think so.
Can we kindly take it down a notch and revere her simply for her bottom.

Now for the ridiculous......

Yes, don't adjust your sets...this is Mohammed Al Fayed in the celluloid flesh on....Celebrity Big Brother.
He was doing a guest appearance and as well as making a royal "Asp" of himself. 

Monday, 15 August 2011

The Polka Dot Dress.

Once upon a time, in rented ground floor flat in Queensgate, London lived a budding dreamer and fashionista who wanted to be all things great but suffered from bouts of extreme shyness which would incapacitate her. That and the fact that she was always taught to respect her elders and bite her tongue kept her from speaking up from a tender age. What she feared most was confrontation and this is why, on that fateful day, she was pushed to her wee limits. Her younger sister, the tomboy of the two who preferred to drive over her Barbie’s rather than drive them around, always managed to voice her opinions loud and clear in her beat up trainers and short skirts. On that afternoon, she was busy with her Tonka truck and headless Cindy doll, so she did not witness my undoing.

Our gorgeous and temperamental mother, whose love for her older brothers sometimes bordered on adoration, had given away something of mine in an instant that stuck with me a lifetime and when invoked,the memory of it still is like a finger repeatedly poking my shoulder.
It was a day like any other and I was happily doing my bit for childhood somewhere in my room when my uncle popped in for a visit on the way home to the States from a business trip. Family visits were always a treat in our family, an opportunity for old and young to rally round and listen to tall tales relayed by not so tall men. One minute my mother and uncle were in the living room and the next... before me in the room I shared with my sister. They were gazing into out closet and before I could piece their conversation together, my mother had pulled out my prized possession: my navy blue “Flamenco”style, polka dot dress. Brand new, I was saving this marvel for the next birthday party invitation and my grand” Sunset Boulevard” entrance (I lived for the dramatic and any opportunity to project).
This was 1970 after all, I was testing my fashion waters and apart from the dreaded and itchy Viyella dresses our mother made us wear, this dress was my attempt at being avantgarde and fashion forward. And there it was, held up to my uncle for inspection before it was whisked away. It was then that I figured out their exchange and what it boiled down to is this: “You can kiss your dress goodbye now Reem, your uncle needs a gift for his daughter ....”
In that brief exchange, my dress was no longer my own, my feelings were confetti and my uncle wore the triumphant smile of the cat who got the bloody flamenco dress and wouldn’t get a bollocking from his wife.

“But it’s mine!” I screamed humiliating myself and breaking the code of family ethics: “Thou shalt not reclaim your property once it has exchanged hands.”
“Reem, how rude! Apologize to your uncle immediately!” exclaimed my mother happy that she had found favour with her brother while bailing him out.
 I was inconsolable until my father came home and I ran into his arms, explaining the reason for my distress. He could have promised me as many toys from Hamleys as I liked...nothing could replace that dress in my eyes.

Fast forward many years later, dresses have come and gone, my uncle now divorced was free to fully embrace his new title of playboy and charmer.He always had a beautiful woman on his arm and a libido as large as his kingdom sized bed.... (The bed in his London pad was so big that a hand full of kids could play freeze tag on it and never fall off...)
He paraded around his conquests and kept us entertained with his endless supply of stories. Soon the demands of these lovelies and the upkeep of this lifestyle began to take its toll on his wallet; style and substance costs money so do gifts and restaurants.He was saved the day he stumbled across “Pandora”: the luxury second hand boutique in Knightsbridge that sold gently used designer garments, accessories and as luck would have it.... my cast offs! His hapless girlfriends got gifts, as well as his friends and family, my uncle’s wallet got a reprieve and I ......got satisfaction.

Wednesday, 10 August 2011

My Poster Girl for Summer 2011

This is my poster girl for Summer 2011: my dear friend's daughter and my fresh faced sweetie: Mael.
Glasses by : Ray ban
Denim shorts by: True Religion
Chunky watch by:G Shock
Shirt : Zara
And my favourite sandals ....Giuseppe Zanotti.

Nail polish by :Dior "Silver"
White gold toe ring:...bought in Saint Lucia by her mom...

Janet and I both bought and wore our toe rings on our trip to the beautiful island and it now belongs to Mael. I wore mine for a while until winter came round and the unsightly bump from the toe ring made wearing shoes and boots impossible. 

Phone : Blackberry....
BBM-ing her beloved: " Jorge.... la gente esta muy loca...."

Tuesday, 9 August 2011

Champagne Breakfast & "Paloma" or Bust...

Another wet weekend,but it didn't ruin our plans: Saturday was a ladies only "Champagne Breakfast": mimosas for everyone!
Apparently a couple of husbands couldn't quite grasp this concept and were quite undone:
"Women only? Why? What are you going to do?" As if naked waiters would be circulating drinks while we pole danced for them! Seriously ?
For starters...we 'll get a word in then.... we'll drink, eat , kick back and talk, laugh, hell...even cuss a little,then drink and laugh some more.
 Then we can come home and do laundry....
Actually to be fair my BF simply said:" Have a good time and Reem?...Don't come home drunk..."

Thank you Karen...a perfect hostess and a lovely gathering.

 Sunday rolled in as did the clouds and thwarted our well layed plans to go boating and lunching on "Anjuna beach". Once the storm died down, we reconfigurated and went ahead with lunch via road and traffic. 
Our destination: St. Jean Cap Ferrat and the vertiginous walk down to "Paloma Beach".
Two couples convoyed through the winding roads from Nice and the busy Promenade d'Anglais while the third very astute couple (my sister and her husband) came from Monaco via motorcycle .If you are familiar with this neck of the woods take my advice :do not go via Nice...you will spend an inordinate amount of time stuck on the Promenade while chewing on your cuticles and wishing to God there was an alternate route to the Cap Ferrat( There is!)... other than meandering through the gorgeous and scenic Villefranche before missing the turn 3 times....to the small,glamorous St. Jean.

*My foot on the ghost peddle,urging us on...*
Take the highway, exit at Monaco then make your way via Cap D'ail and the Moyenne corniche...you will thank me for it.You will also thank me for warning you that the steps down to the beach are steep and long, the people are a plenty and no one wants to see you hurtling down at breakneck speed because you insisted on wearing plateforms.
 The heat was taxing, once we got over the drive but the Mojitos....divine.

Paloma beach does not take reservations for the restaurant...but we chilled with pre lunch  drinks until our beeper went off ...( you are given beepers while you wait for your table and we didn't have to wait long). The service was prompt and efficient: we were never ignored, snapped at or left without food or wine.
The waiters are professional and friendly,the food is good,clean Mediterranean fayre: I recommend the  artichoke and parmesan salad as well as the fresh fish : the Saint Pierre en papillote was delicious.

*MY BF looking like the cat who got the Chablis premier Crus...*
NB: Beach toilets are usually the bane of my life especially come mid day...but here it is maned by a delightful lady who swabs the decks each time someone comes out of the toilets. Spotless.

*The pebble beach from on high and the clear waters*

Monday, 8 August 2011

Adele - Set Fire to the Rain Lyrics

 The weather has been chronically bad here; storms with thunder so loud it makes you burrow your way into your mattress when it hits in the wee hours of the morning.... rain drops the size of golf balls and just as destructive,my awning has been folded in like origami by the sheer weight of the water...and the mosquito's? There are mozzy raids at dawn and dusk...it is all very "Apocalypse Now".

So what happened to summer? Who knows but I'll just " Set Fire to the Rain"....

Wednesday, 3 August 2011


To all you car buffs out there,I am proud to present my sister's new blog : Flappy Paddles.
If you drive a flash car... wished you drove a flash car or simply love all things car and avidly watch"Top Gear", I urge you to check it out.
 The title is explained, I was relieved to find out that it had nothing to do with a particular ailment: a new term for hemorroides... or body malformation like "bingo wings"!
If anything, you get to read up about the latest and sometimes not so greatest, cars out there and check out some fun moments and pictures.
It is serious, well informed and  funny.... it is written by my sister after all...so it has to be good!


Jeremy Clarkson beware...there is a new kid on the block.