Princess Style

HRH Princess Alexandra photographed by Norman Parkinson © Norman Parkinson Limited/Corbis

The life of Princess Diana overshadowed some of the lesser known royal princesses. If you thought she was beautiful, you should see images of HM The Queen's younger sister, HRH Princess Margaret as a young woman. I will feature her next but meanwhile HRH Princess Alexandra is a beacon of discreet style, elegance and charm. She is the granddaughter of King George V and Queen Mary, born on Christmas Day 1936. Her mother was Princess Marina of Greece and Denmark, who was incredibly beautiful, and her father was Prince George, The Duke of Kent. Serving in the Royal Air Force, he was killed in an aeroplane crash when Alexandra was six. Princess Alexandra of Kent married the second son of the Earl of Airlie, the Hon. Angus Ogilvy in 1963.

Family group with Princess Marina and her brothers Prince Michael of Kent and The Duke of Kent © Corbis

Aged 17 at her family home Coppins, Buckinghamshire. Queen Magazine April 1963

With Princess Marina at the Duke of Kent's wedding 1961 Queen Magazine April 1963




A portrait by Cecil Beaton © www.allposters.com



Marriage to the Hon Angus Ogilvy 1963 courtesy www.royal.gov.uk



Leaving the Federal Palace Hotel, Lagos, Nigeria for the independence celebrations.
Queen Magazine April 1963




A visit to Lancaster University 1968 courtesy www.lancs.ac.uk




A portrait by Norman Parkinson in 18th C dress © Norman Parkinson Limited/Corbis




Growing older gracefully courtesy http://www.flickr.com/photos/jonlucas

La Divine Comtesse de Castiglioni

Would that we could all construct our image for posterity like the fabled Virginia Oloini born into an aristocratic family from La Spezia in 1837. Feted for her beauty from childhood she was intelligent, capricious and a gifted linguist. At seventeen she married the Count di Castiglioni but that did not prevent her from having an affair with Vittorio Emmanuele II who was later to unify Italy. During the Congress of Paris which opened in 1856 she used her wiles, her glamour and her astute political instincts to promote Italian interests and she always believed that she played a key role in the eventual establishment of the Kingdom of Italy in 1861.

Although she led a quixotic life in the highest social circles of Paris and Italy, she was never to regain the same political influence. However her true legacy lies in a remarkable series of portraits taken by the Parisian photographer Pierre-Louis Pierson which were sought after by collectors in her lifetime. They demonstrate her creativity and her narcissism, her shameless self-absorption and her constant need for admiration. Not surprisingly she came to mourn the loss of her beauty, grew increasingly reclusive and died alone in Paris in November 1899.

A couple of paragraphs here hardly do justice to her high octane life, played out in a fascinating and complicated period of European history. Her story and what now may be seen as her 'performance art' is being revisited and reassessed by feminists and art historians, and comparisons drawn with the work of Cindy Sherman and Yasumasa Morimura.

I have been reading 'La Divine Comtesse' Photographs of the Countess de Castiglione by Pierre Apraxine and Xavier Demange, Yale University Press in association with The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York 2000 from which the images are taken.

My Li'l Pony

I was one of those girls who longed for a pony but had to make do with an imaginary horsey friend and a lot of sound effects. Unlike some sympathetic parents I knew who actually built authentic jumps in the garden for their daughter and her phantom pony, I just fantasised about a clear round at a gymkhana. When I grew up I took a few riding lessons but to be honest, I'm pretty frightened of the real thing. After the first session, I came home with a breathless account of how they left alone me in the stableyard with my new mount. Asked if I was 'up', it seemed to cause amusement when I confessed that no, I was only standing there holding the flipping reins. I persevered and managed to trot without stirrups (what's the point of that?) and then something interrupted the whole business, like finding I was expecting a baby. So that's moreorless the size of it but somehow I'm determined not to go to my grave without managing a canter.

Meanwhile the safer option was back at the drawing board. Here I have worked from images of serious horsewomen and infantilised them somewhat by the use of colour to express that longing that so many girls never have a chance to fulfill.














All images, both digital and acrylic on canvas, are the copyright of Rosie West

Advanced Platecraft

The Ultimate Dog's Breakfast featured at http://sharefood.ning.com


One spin off from the current economic problems might just be that certain Michelin-starry-eyed restaurants start serving food that satisfies the appetites of their customers rather than the vanity of their chefs. I am not against food that is carefully sourced and exquisitely cooked; nor even do I condemn the absurdist kitchen that serves confit of scorpion and Swarfega flavoured icecream. What drives me to pick up a Sabatier knife and wave it at a telly programme like Masterchef is the fetishisation of what used to be known as ‘plating up’ but what I suppose we should now call ‘presentation’ with a French accent.

Nobody wants a bowl of bread and butter pudding drowning in custard to the rim as a certain London gentleman’s club served me up one lunchtime. I agree food should be appealingly presented but the more that chefs try to out-garnish each other, the more naff and preposterous it becomes. I laughed over the pancake twizzles that one Masterchef contestant wrestled with, wasting in my opinion valuable galley time spent cooking real food to fill real stomachs.

I guess my primary bete noir is plate painting. The art of Advanced Platecraft is surely overrated and even primary school kids could master the mechanics of it with a teaspoon, a cookie cutter and some poster paint. It was the final of Masterchef where the talented amateurs were thrown into selected continental Michelin starred restaurants and beasted with this form of twiddling. The programme producers focused on the jeopardy of one young hopeful stamping some labour-intensive gloop in circles all over the plates. (Ikea eat your heart out) Then more sleight of hand with half a teaspoonful of red stuff and sighs of relief that he hadn’t cocked it up. Nobody filmed the hapless diner who had to make the choice between being polite and licking his plate.

The point is that the fabled sauce is often advertised on the menu and one has a reasonable expectation of eating it. I once chose a hot chocolate pudding for its caramel sauce at a Conran restaurant. I did not expect the caramel to reside in a series of polka dots alongside. (On that same occasion the blini to partner my smoked salmon was 4 cm in diameter, except that it was boat shaped so I’ve over-estimated its size. The potatoes were three medallions that would fit in a slot machine, and the wilted leeks a half a mouthful. I wrote and complained that they had a 'cavalier attitude' towards vegetables but they didn't care.) Call me old fashioned.

Does anybody else want to call for this posturing to stop? I don’t wish redundancies on any restaurant, but too many chefs can wreck a square meal. Cut out the fiddling whilst the diners starve and I for one will feel satisfied.

Please click here for the ne plus ultra of stupid food.

Sunday Supplement : My Sketchbook

Auto Interview No. 2

Hi Pompom, how's it going?

It's feeling good.  I'm now self-medicating with my blog instead of Battenberg cakes. I've got a few posts up here which has surprised me.

I'm confused about the Pompom thing

Me too, I got in a bit of a mess with the technology.  My original google account was Pompom but I've changed it to Rose C'est La Vie now, which seems sensible in the circumstances.  But pompom is one of my favourite words.

Have you got many subscribers?

No, not enough really. Well, if you don't count my loving family and a few pals. I need more.

Is the eclectic mix working?

I don't know. I panic sometimes but it's a reflection of my butterfly mind.  My life's mission statement has always been 'I was put on this earth to be enjoyed and not to be judged'  I didn't make that up and it's a bit of a cheek but what the hell.

Managed to fit the housework in around the blogging?

No.

Men and Shirtsleeves

photo from http://semiobama.blogspot.com

Are short-sleeved shirts naff? Should a gentleman simply roll up his sleeves when he's hot? I think we have the answer here. This was such a good look for Barack Obama on the campaign trail but I'm keeping out of the debate whether it's suitable for the Oval Office.

I hope it catches on because a proper shirt with truncated arms tends to smack of an unwanted Christmas present. To go with a pair of polyester slacks or pleat-fronted chinos. I don't know about naff. Just too well-behaved. And it's not a good look with the sleeves of your singlet poking out. Why would you do that?



Uniforms are different, aren't they? I was in a motorcade in Santiago and utterly transfixed by the motorbike cop ahead in tight cord breeches and tight little shirt and gorgeous brown arms. He was in magnificent command of the traffic flow. Approaching a crossroads he would stand on the foot rests and hold his arms out in crucifix mode, a sight that I could only treasure. Later on, in slow moving traffic a motorist of the female variety collided with him and knocked him straight into my door of the car. I loved him even more for the fact he just exchanged a few words with her and sent her on her way. What was I saying about shirts?

Hmm, I think my argument is beginning to unravel. I adore this geek in his Marc Jacobs s/s shirt. He looks well-behaved in rather a dangerous way.

Dorothy Draper Rules

I bought two versions of Dorothy Draper's Decorating is Fun from e-bay a while ago. The first is a bit of a mystery . Why is the cover green and not pink? Definitely a very early edition, 1939 published by Doubleday Doran & Co New York price $2.79

A revised edition came out in 1962 and I'm guessing mine could be a first edition? Stamped inside the front cover is a message from Doubleday & Company " A personal reading copy for our bookseller friends, whose opinions and criticisms we welcome and value" This was rather more pricey at the time, $4.95

The point is, it's interesting to compare the two. There are no photographic illustrations in the later version and it's on the whole rather disappointing. Dorothy Draper's advice on hanging pictures is always welcome, but she appears to have changed her tune by 1962:

We used to believe that pictures had to be hung so that they were all the same distance from the ceiling, and it was against the rule to hang a large picture and a small one on the same wall. Now pictures are hung in a much more casual manner. A feeling of balance is always important, of course, but it can be achieved by what is under the pictures. A picture should always be an integral part of the group of furniture and accessories over which it hangs. I'll admit that obtaining this sort of balance is not nearly as easy as having all your pictures the same size..

1939

1962

Search me if I can see much difference in her hanging strategy but it certainly looks a lot more convincing in the later version.

PINK. Every girl's favourite colour or is it?

'That Pinking Feeling' Acrylic on canvas 30 x 24 ins

If you are around growing up girls, do you feel mildly nauseated by the sickly pink worlds they build around themselves? The 'tween' market is bombarded by pink merchandising reinforcing a gender stereotype that is becoming increasingly toxic. I love pink too but it would be nice if they had other choices. I attempted to critique this in a recent exhibition called Pet.

If I offend dog lovers by dressing up pooches in frocks, it's only a metaphor for what we are increasingly doing to our daughters.


'Pink Frock Candy' Acrylic on canvas 30 x 24 ins



'Are you sure you love me?' Acrylic on canvas 24 x 30 ins

Do they have to grow up so fast? Like lambs to the slaughter, perhaps.


'Candy Lamb' Acrylic on canvas 30 x 24 ins




'Babe' Acrylic on canvas 10 x 12 ins

Mad As A Hatter

I visited London's V & A Hats exhibition yesterday, a Monday lunchtime. It was fairly packed and as I made drawings from the showcases, I was joined by a crowd of schoolgirls with their sketchbooks. "So where's your mother's hat then?" asked one. "I've no idea" she replied modestly. If it'd been me I'd have made damn sure I knew. Overhearing women enthusing about the hundreds of glorious confections on show is half the fun. "See that one on the left, it's just like what I wore on my honeymoon in the 50s" I pressed my nose against the glass too. It was a little velvet platter strewn with flowers and some veiling; must have gone with a neat costume when she was waved off in a vintage Austin. Those were the days! Now brides tend to stay in their wedding dresses and does anyone notice when they finally disappear to bed?

The V & A stages costume very well and my favourite showcase is dedicated to Cecil Beaton - black and white regency stripes and pink hydrangeas, oh. Another case is lined with grey silk button padding that I long to line my bedroom with. For those mad moments, ha. Many of the hats are crazy, whimsical or surreal as chosen by doyen of the couture millinery world Stephen Jones. I am glad we're reminded of his brilliance when so much attention is given to society milliner Philip Treacy. I am simply bored of all his 'fascinators' that are in danger of hitting overhead power cables. Come on ladies, get over it. Get a proper hat, and one that fits - somehow. Considering how many are made for the British market, they all come in one size. A lovely summer event becomes a tragi-comedy of self-conscious women trying to make eye contact from under a shed of banana straw. That's why others plump for the headband option and look like a troupe of middle-aged chorus girls or heritage-breed hens. I suggest the mass-market milliners visit this latest exhibition and get some fresh ideas.

Here are some of my favourite mad hats.

A new version of the New Romantics by Vivien Westwood 2008

Philip Treacy, here far more fascinating, a black silk brocade tricorne with integral velvet mask

Tipped up and pointing down over one eye with black and white silk ribbon trim by John Boyd 1996

Joan with a hat' by Jean Barthet, Paris 1953

The young Halston places a hat on actress Anita Colby at Bergdorf Goodman, NY 1965





The exhibition Hats: An Anthology by Stephen Jones runs at London's V & A Museum until 31 May 2009

There is a great book to go with it



[V & A Publishing 2009 $26.37 from Amazon.com]


and delicious merchandising. Who could resist this cut out paper hat?

Photos at head of this post:
Christian Dior haute couture 2007

Stephen Jones 'Wash and Go' 1999, acrylic

All images courtesy The V & A

The adventures of a Lulu Guinness handbag

Is this the farthest South a Lulu Guinness bag has ever been? (51º45´ South of the Equator) Visiting the Falkland Islands in January 2006, we landed on Saunders Island, a remote and uninhabited nature reserve. Although it was summer down there, the weather is capricious and you'd best have a sleeping bag and a packed meal no matter how short your intended visit. So imagine that sinking feeling when my other lovely half and I looked at each other and said ' You took the gear off the helicopter didn't you?' 'No.' As it puttered off skywards we found ourselves with my Lulu Guinness bag and a point-n-shoot camera. Our companions, in their Rohan systems clothing tended to have a rucksack and an SLR with the mother of all zoom lenses. The only thing left was to walk off in the opposite direction and give the bag a fashion shoot. Here it is.






Lulu and the Kings










Lulu and the Rockhoppers



Lulu and the Elephant Seals which make rude wuffly noises behind your back

Auto Interview with PomPom

Hi Pompom, when did you start this blog?
Yesterday, help!

Why?
Because I am supposed to be a serious artist but I've the attention span of a circus flea

Where did you find out about Google Blogspot?
I stumbled on the sublime Peak of Chic and have been ricocheting around the shelter blogs
and lots more since

What do you want to do with your blog?
Mess about with my own drawings and freewheel

Freewheel where?
Around design, dress (not really fashion), fine art, cartoons, my i-photo scrapbook

Why did you call it Rose C'est La Vie?
My real name is Rosie and it's a smart-ass pun on Marcel Duchamp's alter ego Rrose Selavy

How old are you?
Old enough to know better. Try and guess.

A Nice Gesture