The patient and efficient Lucy Beer came to help clean up blogging messes, bad formats and why won't things just line up properly. It's been a wonderful guess as to where pictures will end up and why the preview doesn't always show the post as it will be sent out. It's a mystery to me but she had it all fixed rather quickly.
I had lots of ideas and couldn't wait to begin posting. A tiny little cough had begun and by morning when I stayed in bed, all my ideas were gone. I hoped and I hoped but couldn't hope a cold away.
Sleeping a few days away and then coffee and email catch-up. Sunny and 80 degrees and Happy Spring. Good day for a car wash, getting rid of all those rainy polka dots and windy day grime, hearts and please wash me lazily swirled into the mix. Laundry too, always a good time to remember the sultry fragrances of sun and lemon, fresh washed and maybe dragged past lavender.
I remember the big galvanized tubs of lavender at Joseph's in London and how breathtaking it was against good wood floors and seriously pretty designer clothing. I remember how kind Joseph was, helping a younger Kenzo Takada with his displays and taking pictures. Joseph Ettedgui, with his brothers Franklin and Maurice helping, was everywhere. Shops in Paris, London, New York and a small wholesale collection. He shipped beautifully and maybe his twelve-ply cashmeres sold out in a heartbeat because of his hand. Not that hand knits and winter weight cashmere was essential for Sunset Plaza but his things were. I guiltily kept one, a black oversized cardigan. It was inches thick when I folded it - a 2,000. heirloom.
Angelo DiBiase was in New York for Thanksgiving and his almost unintelligible command "Mad Darling, it's cold here. Come." There was a seat on an early Thanksgiving flight and it was really cold. I wore my Joseph cashmere over black leggings, Manolo black kid ankle boots that had colored gemstones sewn on the cuff, a black LeGarage chiffon mans shirt over a Wolford black bodysuit.
Angelo and I skipped in the cold and dashed into Empire Diner, his fave. A quick coffee and a short walk to his friend's loft. A garlicky wine smell as we walked in, kiss kiss and children on little trikes rampaging. We ended the night with Bougelais Nouvelle and hugs and happiness. I flew home the next day, too happy to be tired.
Joseph would have laughed.