Ten things that made me happy in the cruellest month

According to T.S. Eliot, April is the cruellest month, and that is certainly true for those parts of the world which are being tormented by the overweening ambitions of old men, but in West Dorset spring is busting out all over and as I have no idea how many springs I have left I am determined to enjoy this one.

It was raining the day I went to see the new Hockney Exhibition at the Serpentine Gallery and I had no umbrella. But nothing could mar the rush of pleasure I felt seeing Hockney’s glowing mural of a year in his Normandy home drawn on his iPad. Each wall has its season but they blend seamlessly into one another, the apple tree has bare branches, then blossom, then leaves and finally ripe fruit. The timbered farmhouse stands starkly against the snow on one wall and then reappears festooned with foliage in another. Hockney has also made portraits of people who visited him at the farmhouse, all sitting in the same chair at the same table. My favourite is the one of his carer, who wears a badge that Hockney designed which reads, “ End Bossiness Soon.” I was delighted to see that these badges are available in the gift shop for the princely sum of £2. I bought five. Irresistible sentiment. What’s more the Serpentine exhibition is free.

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It was raining too the day I saw the Schiaparelli exhibition at the V&A, but this time I was prepared with a Norwegian raincoat with a hood which is made by a brand called BRGN after the town ( minus the vowels) where it rains every day of the year. It is dark green, made of what feels like gaberdine, has a belt and a hood and is COMPLETELY waterproof without being sweaty. Practical and stylish, what more could a woman in the prime of life want? Well the answer to that is a hat that looks like a shoe.

I wish I had been alive in the days of ironic hats. The Schiaparelli exhibition was a reminder that fashion doesn’t have to be serious. I infinitely prefer this exhibition to the Chanel one a few years back. I hated all those Chanel suits with their BCBG school uniform vibe. Schiaparelli’s designs were female friendly, beautiful and witty. The Duchess of Windsor isn’t my favourite person in the world but I have to give her credit for wearing the Schiapp lobster dress which has the crustacean’s body planted on her groin. Schiaparelli was charming - who could resist these acrobat buttons on this jacket from her circus collection?

And why would anyone care about the perfect white t shirt, or buttery leather, or ruched loafers if they could wear a coat like this magnificent harlequin number?

The only thing I didn’t like about the show were the modern iterations of the House of Schiaparelli which felt heavy handed compared to the droll lightness of the original. The perfect film to watch after such a show is Ninotchka starring Greta Garbo and directed by Ernst Lubitsch, particularly the scene where Garbo as the earnest Soviet commissar is seduced by the frivolity of a Schiaparelli like Parisian hat. If you have never seen it, you have such a treat in store.

My Ninotchka moment came earlier this week when I succumbed to utter frivolity and had a bespoke lipstick made at Code8. My lipstick was blended by Eli who is an artist as well as a makeup artist and she concocted a shade for me that I have to say is the most flattering thing I have ever worn. It is quite close to my natural lip colour but different enough to add sparkle and élan. I have named my shade American Heiress after my first novel ( and possible tv series.. watch this space) and it makes me feel frisky in a very Schiaparelli sort of way. If I was in the market for a hen night or some such girly celebration I would very much prefer a session at Code 8 to an evening with Magic Mike.

The Schiaparelli show had a whole cabinet of brooches or as the Americans say, pins. I have definitely entered my brooch years . Nothing makes me happier than pinning a diamanté hedgehog or a an ostrich with real feathers to my navy blue jumper or white shirt. A good brooch is a manifesto. The late queen Elizabeth II was a master of the art of brooch semiotics. She had a brooch for every nuance : such as the jewelled shamrock she wore for the first ever state visit by a British monarch to the Irish Republic. More poignantly there was the enormous diamond brooch pinned to her black coat at the funeral of her husband the Duke of Edinburgh. It was there to sparkle for the cameras in the gloom of St. George’s Chapel Windsor. Elizabeth’s brooch game was exemplary.

I am with her that size matters, brooch wise. A big one, or lots of small ones - but don’t be shy. Vinted is full of brilliant brooches at silly prices. Now that I have my forever lipstick I will be fulfilling my fashion whims by ordering Venus Fly trap brooches.

I am sniffy usually when it comes to fantasy in literature, but I started reading Nonsuch by Francis Spufford before I realised that it trespassed into the realms of the supernatural via Denis Wheatley, and I have to say that I am so glad I did. The heroine Irish Hawkins, a clerk in a city firm in 1939 who like Melanie Griffiths in Working Girl ‘ has a brain for numbers and a bod for sin,’ is a brilliantly engaging character. I was hooked by her refusal to be daunted by snobbery, fascist blondes, or nosy landladies even before I read about her courage in the face of malevolent spirits. It might feel a little YA were it not for Spufford’s wonderful prose and emotional complexity. I was captivated by the stuttering, passionate relationship between Iris and Geoff the signals engineer. The most enjoyable book I have read this year.

I read The Other Bennet Girl by Janice Hadlow when it first came out and adored it. The tv series is of the few novelistic adaptations that actually does its subject justice. I loved the combination of Austenian wit, very un Austenian empathy for underdogs, and sly meta jokes about men in wet linen shirts. I can’t believe that there is anyone on Substack who hasn’t seen it, but I would really recommend reading the book, and also Hadlow’s new novel The Rules of the Heart based on a true story which is has the same combination of Regency ruthlessness and Romantic emotion.

As my brooches get bigger, sadly my capacity to drink has dwindled. I have recently developed a peculiar allergy to white wine which means that after three sips my nose starts to run which is not chic. But I recently discovered River Cottage Redstart rose which has been blended by Hugh Fearnley Whittingstall. This wine is organic and not only tastes wonderful ( better that Whispering Angel IMHO) but I can drink it happily without a handkerchief to hand. What’s more I find myself waking up the next morning headache free. God forbid that I should encourage anyone to drink more, but this wine makes for a memorable summer afternoon.

But the biggest thrill of the past few weeks for me has been the joy of working with the wonderful cast and crew of my play Victoria, a Queen Unbound at the glorious Watermill Theatre. Everyone at the Watermill from the Front of house staff to the press department seems to love their work, it really is a special place. I think the sound of running water from the mill stream must send out negative ions which makes everyone happier. I have written novels, screenplays and newspapers colums, but being in the theatre listening to an audience react to your words is the most fun this writer has ever had. There is still time to catch the show which is playing till May 9th.