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| Early evening outing in Central Park. 7:00 PM. Photo: Jeffrey Hirsch. |
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| Wednesday, August 7, 2013. Another beautiful Summer day, yesterday in New York. Perfect weather. The Perfect Distractions. A friend of mine sent me a copy of “Serving Victoria; Life in the Royal Household” by Kate Hubbard. You’ll like it, he said when he told me about just having read it. I didn’t tell him that it didn’t sound interesting to me. I don’t have a fascination for old Victoria per se, although the era to which she gave her name, is a fascination since we’re its great-grandchildren though eons from its Victorian upbringing.
Then I read the Vidal interviews which I wrote about, and then the “Orson Lunches…” which, to borrow from Dorothy Parker was of such sweet hell (to read about) that I still kinda wisht it were longer. God knows Orson Welles could talk on into the next lifetime. Before those two books, I read Linda Fairstein’s new crime novel, “Dark Angel” about a crime that took place in Central Park. A friend of mine who just finished it reminded me of all that we learned about Central Park and its hidden spaces and secret treasure pockets, besides the Alex Cooper mystery. Linda knows every nook and cranny. And before “Dark Angel,” I’d read George Packer’s excellent and affecting “The Unwinding; An Inner History of the New America.” The “Unwinding” is a powerful account of contemporary American history. You are well aware of much of what Packer writes about the state of life in America today. But he sets it out in a montage of characters, places and situations. Like a documentary, and as effective. I know people who won’t read it because they think it will depress them. I can understand that. Because if they’re averting their attention from what’s in front of us, it will. But there’s more to it than that. There’s the possibility of renaissance if enough of us will look at ourselves and our situation realistically. How that would come about, I do not know. That’s always a challenge in all our lives. So. Having gone through the aforementioned volumes entirely for pleasure, and come through with a lot of other thoughts and ideas also, I was actually anxious to read something else. Something far away from Now and Us and We and They. So I picked up my friend’s gift about Queen Victoria. He was right. It’s quietly compelling. This real person emerges in this weird sort of life, so far from anything like our own. Maybe not the Empress of China. What an odd strange existence did have the Queen. |
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She was nineteen or twenty when she came to the throne. There was no Regent for the girl who had been aware for awhile that she would succeed her uncle William IV. She seems like a rather simple girl, in the middle of a political swarm which included her mother’s ADC, an Irishman named John Conroy. Victoria hated Conroy. Ironically there exists among British historians that Conroy might have been the actual father of Victoria – her assumed father, the Duke of Kent having been quite well along when the Duchess got pregnant with Victoria. Furthermore he was not so inclined by his nature.
When asked to serve the Queen, it was not something that one turned down lightly. After all, she was their Soveriegn and it was policy, drummed into their heads that “Your first duty is to God; your second to your Sovereign; your third yourself.” Such thoughts would jam any engine nowadays. They were paid rather well. But they had to be with the lady and her husband and her children all the time. They often lunched and dined with them and shared après diner in conversation or at games, although they had decent hours as they were not considered Staff but rather Her Majesty’s appointments. They had nice rooms and sitting rooms of their own and were waited on by the palace staff (that numbered in the hundreds). They also served for specific periods of time interspersed by periods of a month or several weeks when they could see their families. Many of these women were married and so it meant they were separated from their own loved ones for long periods of time. It was very prestigious, however. And they did get to know Her Majesty and his nibs, the Prince (whom Her Majesty adored, and deferred to), the same way we all get to know the people live with day in and day out year after year. |
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| But it was work. Work. And massively dull dull dull after awhile (for those who had any imagination at all). The Queen was not a bundle of laughs. Also, she was always Your Majesty which tends to subdue one’s natural ebullience or opinion. Because the Royal Household was conducted like a machine. Every part worked meticulously (when successful). And the Queen sat at the top of all these worker bees. And such is life in the hive, any hive that’s worth its honey. And such is the wonderfully intriguing document that author Kate Ubbard constructed of the way she lived -- Queen and Empress of the greatest empire in the world of her time and shortly thereafter. And the behavior that it elicited, that it demanded, that was displayed clarifies everything about that time and place. Always the behavior, for me; there’s the key. |
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| Meanwhile, speaking of Linda Fairstein, she’s out there somewhere finishing up her book tour and promotion for the book that was published July 30. She started out here in the city last week and her interviews and TV appearances were capped off with a party in the private dining room of PATROON, which if you follow the adventures of Alex Cooper, often figures in the story. The real Alex Cooper– world renowned architect – was also in attendance. The party was hosted by Patroon's owners, Ken Aretsky and Diana Lyne. Among the guests were Manhattan District Attorney Cyrus Vance, powerhouse literary agent Esther Newberg, Barbara Lyne and Mel Immergut, AOL's Susan Lyne, Louise Grunwald, Lisa Fairstein and Alex de Lucena, Linda’s website designer, graphic artist Marc Fairstein and Linda's publishing team at Dutton Ben Sevier, Christine Ball, and Jamie McDonald. Linda left the next day on her national tour and any minute now she’s going to set down in Martha’s Vineyard where she and her late husband Justin Feldman have summered for years. |
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| While we’re on the subject, (and a little late with this one), a few weeks ago, our Shanghai and San Francisco Diarist, Jeanne Lawrence held a book party for Rochelle Ohrstrom and her new book – her first: “Ponzi & Picasso: Finance, Fraud, and Fine Art.” A novel. A roman a clef. Gail Blanke ,best-selling author of In My Wildest Dreams and Between Trapezes, wrote the following about it: “Fasten your seat belt and brace yourself for a wild romp through the best and worst of the art netherworld.” And you know there’s a lot of both in that part of the forest. Jeanne’s guests were already into “who” is “who” and what they didn’t know about that particular “who.” |
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| Ponzi & Picasso is available at the Whitney Museum, New York's Crawford Doyle Bookstore on Madison Avenue, and online at Amazon and Barnes and Noble. It has been chosen as the October selection for the Yale Book Club. Ohrstrom will be speaking at the Redwood Library in Newport in August. |
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| And now for something entire sunny and bright as well as wistful nostalia. My friend Beverley Jackson (also mother of my friend and NYSD contributor Tracey Jackson) sent me some snaps she took last week of Bullocks Wilshire, the former department store in Los Angeles that is now a national historic landmark as well as the Southwestern Law School. Beverley, who lives in Montecito is a born and bred Los Angeleno, had attended an “annual historic tour” there, and sent them to me knowing how much I love looking at pictures of Los Angeles. I asked her to tell us about the experience of that day, and here is what she wrote: A Summer Day at Bullocks Wilshire is an annual event here in Los Angeles, hosted by the Southwestern Law School who now own the legendary Art Deco former department store on the 3000 block of Wilshire Boulevard.
Gripping my mother’s hand, all I could think of was the luncheon and fashion show in the Tea Room that would follow the shopping. For those of us who didn't like having our hair cut Bullocks Wilshire Barber Shop for children supplied small carousel animals for us to sit on during the ordeal. As the years passed, my Westlake School for Girls uniforms came from BW — as did the oxfords on my feet and my plain cotton underwear as well. Later when I graduated to lacey lingerie it came from BW as did the gowns I wore to the Bachelor's Ball and other galas. I remember particularly one peppermint stick ice cream-pink satin and silk tulle creation I felt like a royal princess in. Eventually my wedding gown came from Bullocks Wilshire and later my maternity clothes followed by my baby daughter Tracey's baby clothes. |
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| Seeing the store again last week I was thrilled to see the Art Deco-with-hints-of-Bauhaus elevator doors still in place. I did miss the friendly uniformed gentleman who directed us to the waiting elevators and the elevator operators in uniforms and white gloves. They called me Miss Beverley from three years old until that wedding gown went down the aisle. After that my old friends who had taken me on hundreds of trips up and down in those elevators insisted on Mrs. Jackson. Stopping on the second floor brought so many memories of my late mother. The elegant French Room where models paraded the gowns she had requested to view has been kept very much as it was. Now it is available for rental for weddings and other events. Designer Irene's salon is much as I remember it. I spent long hours on fancy little chairs in these rooms swinging my Mary Jane clad feet back and forth as I waited for the trip to the tea room. |
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| A fashion show always went on during luncheon, and I gulped down my hot popovers while admiring the gowns. The ladies at lunch all looked so nice in tailored suits, hats, gloves and of course the two strands of pearls around the neck. For dessert I always skipped the traditional lemon chiffon pie — which they served us again at our tour luncheon 2013. I always had a big dish of vanilla ice cream with hot fudge, whipped cream and cherries. Slivered almonds too. It was truly a trip down memory lane for me: so much of my life interwoven with Bullocks Wilshire; so many memories came alive triggered by elevator doors, green porcelain 1940's pedestal sinks in the ladies room, and cactus in an Art Deco container. |
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Photographs by Teresa Lok (Ponzi & Picasso) | Contact DPC here. |