GOLDIE Life's a beach

magazine

STYLE

FASHION

CULTURE

LIFE

LOVE

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BEHIND THE SCENES

Sammy Baxter photographer If you were a stick of rock It would say ADAPTABLE. In any life situation from a young age until the present day I adapt very quickly Personal fashion moment Being invited to photograph behind scenes and catwalk in the amazing entrance of the Natural History Museum in London. The clothes were the most outlandish and original designs I’d ever seen.

What would your oldest piece of clothing say about you? “OMG Sam you’ve had an amazing life, travelled and partied with me all over the world and kept me going all this time. You were terribly naughty at times but you opened my eyes to how to live a full life with no regrets.”

I want fashion to... be a word that doesn’t exist anymore. Everyone should be able to wear exactly what they want and not be judged.

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Alie Findlay model If you were a stick of rock I’m a huge advocate of leaping out of one’s comfort zone, and challenging oneself. With that in mind, I think my core would read: TRY Personal fashion moment Was it landing my first cover? A beauty campaign?

Being on the catwalk for my favourite designer?

There have been many.

Probably the most rewarding was wearing a ball gown I had sewn myself.

What would your oldest piece of clothing say about you? My wardrobe is full of classic pieces, but the oldest is a woolly jumper I first wore when I was 16. I fear it might complain about the cramped living conditions.

I want fashion to... be more sustainable but that’s a fashionable opinion these days isn’t it?

Paris MUA and general assistant – as in: get coffee and chips, reflector holder!

If you were a stick of rock I’d have the word SMILE through the core so that every bite makes you grin!

Then you can offer the rock to someone else and make them smile too!

Personal fashion moment When I put on an outfit to go out and it’s actually the one I decide to go with, because I usually have to change into about five outfits before I decide.

What would your oldest piece of clothing say about you? My oldest piece of clothing would say, “blimey, make up your mind girl!”

I want fashion to... allow people to feel comfortable and beautiful, even if they aren’t yet comfortable in their skin. It takes time to feel sexy, but a silky black dress always does it for me.

Evon Brennan model If you were a stick of rock Mine would read PLIABLE, because this suggests flexibility. Being open and in the moment is not always easy.

Personal fashion moment It was when I casted for underwear for M&S, and my swimwear shoot for Goldie A year ago I could not have imagined myself doing this, a great way of getting rid of shyness.

What would your oldest piece of clothing say about you? I have a beautiful dress designed by a friend many years ago, it is hoping, wondering, maybe one day I will wear it again. The dress symbolises a past when I loved to dress up.

I want fashion to... come down from its high horse and open the doors to a wealth of society who seem to think it is inaccessible to them.

Bryanna Angel Allen Makeup Artist If you were a stick of rock My core would scream UNIQUE. I create what I love not what I see, my passion is art and I live it.

Personal fashion moment Watching a colleague cry because their vision (dream) came through, it was the most touching personal thing I’ve seen and something I will never forget.

What would your oldest piece of clothing say about you? It would say: “I don’t fit but I’m glad she still doesn’t either.”

I want fashion to... have creative freedom, be emotionally expressive, individual and to be made by creatives not by machines.

Danijela Farrell Hair Assistant to Joseph Koniak If you were a stick of rock They say “HARD as rock”, and that’s at my core: strength and endurance.

Personal fashion moment Let the clothing speak for you. Every colour speaks from it’s own dimension and style has its own vibration.

What would your oldest piece of clothing say about you? My self made red satin jacket would say: “Speak with attitude and pride Queen of the Wardrobe.”

I want fashion to... help people express themselves. Fashion is art, an expression, a signature and, most beautifully, it connects people.

Joseph Koniak Hair Designer represented by the Milton Agency If you were a stick of rock The word running through my core would read: KAIZEN - (Japanese for small change. A philosophy of continuous improvement where small ongoing positive changes help improve personal efficiency) Personal fashion moment Most definitely the collaboration with “Goldie” What would your oldest piece of clothing say about you?

“Believe in yourself. You will be skinny enough again to wear me.”

I want fashion to… express who I am and brighten the world we live in.

Marissa Charles photographer If you were a stick of rock MARISTAR which is my instagram model name.

We are all stars shining a little light on earth.

Personal fashion moment I have many little wardrobe triumphs I can’t pick out one in particular.

What would your oldest piece of clothing say about you? I still have my PE shorts that are now the perfect knickers. They are probably saying, “why does this woman wear me but doesn’t even play sports?”

I want fashion to... come from real people, style to re-emerge and for it to start a movement which includes art and music

Kimberley Watson model If you were a stick of rock Mine would read, INSPIRED BY NATURE because I’m besotted by the natural beauty of the creatures, flowers, light and shadow all around us.

Personal fashion moment Realising it was OK to wear colours and patterns mixed with my vintage collections without feeling self conscious.

Colour makes people smile and lifts the spirits.

What would your oldest piece of clothing say about you?

“You’re so lucky you kept me all these years as I’m even more unique and special to you.”

I want fashion to... represent peoples’ personalities and

fill their minds with more confidence to experiment and find their comfort zone through the ages.

who manifest as moths, but has huge emotional value, “Nostalgic?”

I want fashion to... continue but I would like the industry to change. Imagine if fashion was less disposable, slowed down, was fair, what effect would this have in other areas of our lives?

2018. She’s nearly 80 and had never been to any of my shows before - she got a front row seat and I saw her beaming as I came out with two models. I spontaneously grabbed her to join me - we got an enormous applause.

What would your oldest piece of clothing say about you? My Katherine Hamnett white shirt from the late 80’s, that I don’t wear anymore, but can’t bear to part with would say: “This person likes clothes and is very stylish but a white shirt isn’t him anymore so I’ve become a bit redundant.”

I want fashion to... be more about style than trends, to be fun and to see ‘tribes’ again or new ones to emerge. I want more joy in fashion and dressing with personality.

Eliot Young model If I were a stick of rock My core would be QUESTION EVERYTHING, Taken from seeing a NY street artist painting junk with those 2 words.

My favourite personal fashion moment The joy when they offered Me The Job; that was repeated on an almost daily basis for the best part of 10 years.

What would your oldest piece of clothing say about you?

An Armani coat that I’ve had since 1986. It’s has had its fights with the devil

Samson Soboye fashion stylist If you were a stick of rock I’m a natural giver and a loyal friend. I’m a people person,I’’m intrigued to know what makes people tick. I’d like mine to read: GENEROSITY Personal fashion moment Taking my catwalk bow with my Mum at the end of my fashion show for Africa Fashion Week, London

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CONTENTS

C O N T R I B U T O R S Regular contributors

Photographers this issue

Writers this issue

Andrew Harvey Angela Kennedy Fiona Carter Gill Manly Jämes Rïgby Louise Pendry Martin Preston Rohan Spencer Sharon Eden Sue Plumtree

Diana Frances Gerald Wilhelm Ian Macauley Laurent Lo Marissa Charles Richard Kaby Sammy Baxter

Amanda Chapman-Bruce Beate Howitt Jacynth Bassett Jane Jennsion Jo Moseley Nigel Summerley Sue Wheat Susan Muncey

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THIS ISSUE 4 Behind the Scenes 6 Contents and Contributors 9 Editors letter

LIFES A BEACH 32 Surfer Girl Jo Moseley cleans up the beach 38 Fifty shades of blue no, not the colour of Nigel Summerley’s holiday wardrobe 47 Remember Great Yarmouth?

Susan Muncey shares her childhood trips 50 A beach is not just for summer Jane Jennsion loves a beach for all seasons 54 48 hours in Palma – you may well wish you’d booked a longer trip!

58 Marc Fosh shares his Mediterranean gastro style with Rebecca Weef Smith

STYLE 60 Closet Confidential Angela Kennedy chats to the ultimate summer designer Juilet Dunn 100 Amanda Chapmen-Bruce T-shirts to proclaim ageing activism 108 The Powder Room Get Lippie with me - beach bright make-up to cheer any day.

111 Cuttin’ Edge Rohan Spencer has a few tips up his sleeve for beach body boys 112 Anarcho Dandy Jämes Rïgby life’s a bike, at least it is now!

116 Haggify me – disrupt the narrative and reclaim the right to be an old bag

FASHION 62 Beach Babes why don’t you treat the beach as your own personal catwalk this summer?

74 Don’t BUY it DIY it make our cover sunglasses tonight to wear tomorrow 78 The new seekers...

We are all looking for something aren’t we?

94 The Scene on the catwalk or on the street this has grabbed GOLDIE’s attention of late

CULTURE 10 The Goldie Interview Rebecca Weef Smith meets Dutch artist Isabelle van Zeijl 18 Lucille Lewin tells Angela Kennedy on life after fashion and reinvention through art 24 Micheal Eavis The Glastonbury hero interviewed by Sue Wheat

LIFE 106 Age barriers are so last season aren’t they? Asks Jacynth Bassett 120 Silver Psychologist Louise Pendry is talking about my generation 122 Life Lessons

n Walter Gammie

n Lorna Ives 124 Grey Mattters Gill Manly undresses for the naked truth 132 Pub Talk Andrew Harvey asks fundamental questions at the bar 133 What’s your problem?

Ask Agony Aunt, Sharon Eden 134 Signing off Beate Howitt with her parting requests

LOVE 76 GOLDIE loves … these are a few of our favourite’s things 124 The Good Life Fiona Carter’s take on sustainable choices we can all be inspired by 126 Green Planet Martin Preston is the Bees’ Knees 130 Getting On Sue Plumtree wants you to infuse your love live with warmth

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SAMMY BAXTER

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EDITOR’S LETTER

Life’s a beach

C

ome rain or shine, I think a day at the beach is one of life’s little pleasures.

No matter how old you are, feeling the crunch of sand beneath your feet turns us all into excited children, doesn’t it. Doesn’t it? It seems I’m wrong. Apparently the beach isn’t everyone’s cup of tea. Some people just don’t know what’s good for them.

Well, I’m pleased to say we had a glorious day in Bournemouth for our cover shoot. Our two models were amazing and like any seaside visit worth it’s weight in gold, it involved fish and chips, candy-striped deckchairs, persistent (slightly aggressive) seagulls and a car full of sand on arrival home. It’s a bloody good job I like the stuff!

There’s often a sense of nostalgia associated with beach trips. Possibly due to lingering memories of our favourite childhood haunts with their freedom and exploration. This might be why when it came to styling the cover and editorial for Beach Babes I evoked the spirit of 1978. More specifically the glamour of Studio 54. It was a big year for me. I turned thirteen and was allowed to go to Mallorca with my older sister. Saturday Night Fever was the hit film at the time and I remember being driven about in her white BMW convertible with the soundtrack blaring. She had the most fabulous sense of style.

Pairing her bikini with layers of jewellery, she’d break hearts everywhere she went. Her summer look still inspires me to this day.

I have warm, fuzzy memories of my early solo adventures which involved lots of topless sunbathing and flirting with local boys. Those late teens/ early twenties travels have instilled my lifelong hankering for any beach where I can strip to my bikini bottoms and feel free, unencumbered by convention or clothes.

Childhood holidays crop up in our Life’s A Beach section with both Susan Muncey and Jane Jennison sharing their memories. And clearly Nigel Summerley is a man after my own heart when it comes to beach attire.

Maybe your summer memories involve festivals? Can you believe that Glastonbury will be fifty next year? We were so excited that Sue Wheat was able to grab an interview with the inimitable Michael Eavis. I’m already plotting how to overcome my distaste for chemical loos as I really want to be there next year. Having never been before, 55 seems the perfect age to give Glasto a go. Michael is well known for his views on peace, love and the common good, a set of values we share here at GOLDIE. Did you know about our commitment to sustainability, inclusivity and diversity? We don’t shout about it because we take it for granted that you do. Whether it’s Green Planet columnist, Martin Preston buzzing about bees; Fiona Carter exploring the possibility of growing her own textiles in Good Life; or us simply encouraging you to buy secondhand. We believe that even the smallest actions add up to make a big difference.

That’s the thing with activism. It takes many forms. It might be a full on protest like Extinction Rebellion, we love Richard Kaby’s photos; or wearable messages of revolt courtesy of designers like the brilliant Amanda Chapman-Bruce and Suzi Warren.

Equally it could be a personal act of taking charge of your own life. Gill Manly takes the plunge and addresses an audience without any clothes to protect her vulnerability – we all have ways of being bolder, braver, stronger.

To return to fashion editorial for a minute, we also rarely mention that all our models are over 40 and we don’t tinker with beauty where we find it. We love fashion collaborations that are able to transform an idea from a handful of clothes, a suitcase of props and endless emails into a story which conveys a message of hope. Magic happens when people come together with an intention to share happiness. That’s what my experience of working with fashion teams has bought me over the years. Not bland fast consumerism but slow, deliberate creative energy to share messages of universal beauty.

It may not get us advertising, it may mean we struggle to pay bills, but our DIY disruptive attitude based on a vision of a fanzine past, combined with a love of everydayness and a hope for a bright future is what keeps us going.

Our life is just Beachy, hope yours is too.

THE TEAM Editor: Rebecca Weef Smith rebecca@goldiemediagroup.co.uk Art Director: Weef weef@goldiemediagroup.co.uk Commercial & marketing: Rhoda Idoniboye rhoda@goldiemediagroup.co.uk Sub editors: Mark Barber John Clarke Walter Gammie Nigel Summerley Hannah Wilkinson

Models: Evon Brennan, Alie Findlay both @Mrs Robinson Photographer: Sammy Baxter Stylist: Rebecca Weef smith Make-up: Paris Swimwear: Collectif

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T H E

GOLDIE INTERVIEW

ISABELLE VAN ZEIJL Rebecca Weef Smith meets Dutch artist and photographer, Isabelle van Zeijl, to talk about her striking photographic self-portraits ahead of her first solo London show.

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his summer in London, Isabelle van Zeijl showed ‘The Camouflaged Beauty of Fashion’, a collection of large scale photographic pieces in which she is both model and creator, subject and object. Isabelle’s work draws on the themes of fashion, nature and time, resulting in images that raise questions about what it means to be

a woman always on view and what it means to take control of the gaze and subvert, or even sabotage, the significance of femininity.

At first glance, her portraits could be mistaken for subversive portrayals of noblewomen painted by Dutch Golden Age Masters. Yet Isabelle’s process of making these works is both complex and very modern: a multi layered, reworking practice utilising digital techniques to enhance and manipulate the highly styled and curated original photos.

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From the costume design and make-up, to the lighting and editing, Isabelle controls every aspect. The resulting portraits can be seen as the ultimate selfies, serving to remind us that in the age of Instagram we are still able to control how we are seen and what we reveal to the world.

In this way she simultaneously references the past, recreates the language of the old masters and then disrupts the visual landscape with a knowing glance. If transformation is key to the camouflaged beauty of fashion, from the metamorphic transition of a child into a woman (and with that the acknowledgement of one’s true value and self-worth), then it is no coincidence that butterflies are a theme Isabelle returns to again and again.

The creative process that she employs to achieve this is highly self-reflective, requiring constant mental and visual reinvention; some of the self-portraits illustrate a supreme strength of character, while in others she appears fragile and ready to break. Then there are those which do not fit into either category, where she confronts the notion that women must be presented as vulnerable or strong, an either / or option that hems us in to fit societal norms.

As a woman, Isabelle has experienced prejudice, misogyny, discrimination, violence and objectification. As an artist she works her way through the resulting emotional debris by turning the gaze on herself and questioning how it is to be a woman in charge of her own beauty. She reinvents constantly through her work, each autobiographical narrative painstakingly controlled with meticulous attention to detail.

Her experiences in life are mixed with universal subjects of womanhood and take on a timeless quality with more than a hint of a quiet rebel beauty. I find her take on what it means to be a woman unnerving but I know that many others see innocence. I ask Isabelle if she sees herself as manipulating her viewers and she laughs her hugely infectious sexy laugh and deftly side steps the question.

Listening to Isabelle is like being told an intimate story. “The truth about where my work comes from isn’t easy,” she begins. “I thought it was only about creating beauty but behind that visual prettiness is my truth and the truth comes from my childhood.”

I lean in, intrigued. “I started to portray myself when I was very young. I grew up in an emotionally unsafe environment. My

INTERVIEW

ISABELLE VAN ZEIJL

art teacher advised me to draw myself as a way to hold a mirror up to my emotions, to understand the turbulence I was going through. My self-portraits became an anchor for me.”

Isabelle’s self-portraits developed from pencil sketches but she didn’t dare to believe she was good enough to be an artist. She grew up in a home with fashion magazines and art books given equal validity. “I saw the Botticelli Venus and the Vogue cover girl as one and the same, they were both my heroes, I wanted to be like them, to be viewed as beautiful. It seemed to me they were escaping and I wanted to join them.”

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T H E

GOLDIE INTERVIEW

ISABELLE VAN ZEIJL

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T H E

GOLDIE INTERVIEW

ISABELLE VAN ZEIJL

“I know when I’m done with a piece and that is when I totally love that girl, when she lets me know she is enough”

Later, she asked her husband to take photos of her so that she could have a canvas to work on. His portrayal of her never satisfied what she needed; he had his own vision of who she was. Isabelle tells me that she was convinced that she needed him to take the images, to really see her, but he was never happy to do so. “From that situation my technique was born, I took his photos of me and started to create a digital technique, born out the limitations I had accepted. I didn’t know how to take photos so I had no choice.”

When they divorced, she no longer had anyone to take the photos. “So I bought a camera and learnt to do it for myself,” she explains. “I was always seeking and searching for love and attention from outside myself but after my divorce I had to go inside and find it there.”

As a self-taught artist, Isabelle played until she got the results she required. “I met a lady who had these gorgeous antique lace pieces and I wanted to use them to become a Renaissance Woman. So I put flour on my face and got rid of my eyebrows; it was all very instinctive.”

Isabelle gives a lot of herself in her work and since it has been represented by Cynthia Corbett, it has become highly sought after and much-admired by collectors. The rewards are “tremendous”, she explains: “I have finally 16 | GOLDIE magazine

created my own safety. I am who I am; that is what my work is about. It can be viewed as beautiful surface design but underneath that, if you let it; it gets under your skin. It is about you as the viewer. Your response is about you, the mirror that you are looking for.

I don’t ask it to mean anything to you, but I am more aware of all the levels of meaning that I both reveal and conceal.”

Isabelle ends with telling me about the new project she is undertaking. “l love working with nature, I am focusing on a new piece at the moment using orchid roots,” she explains.

“It’s a tough shelter, complicated and gnarly.

It’s a bit different for me and I’m not sure it will it be seen as beautiful. But I am sharing a new vulnerability and it is quite raw.”

I get the sense that there is always this doubt in the middle of Isabelle’s process, that in order to transcend the rawness she goes with it; she is able to trust her instinct and work until as she decides: “the piece is done.”

“I trust myself now,” she agrees. “It is the right thing to do. I am okay. The more I follow my intuition, the more I get my rewards… it’s nice to be right. I like to look at my work and think ‘that’s me, I did that,’ and it’s good. I can be an artist now. I know when I’m done with a piece and that is when I totally love that girl, when she lets me know she is enough.” n

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SCULPTING WITH Founder of legendary fashion label, Whistles, brain tumour survivor and award-winning sculptor, Lucille Lewin is only just getting started.

Angela Kennedy meets an inspirational woman who has refashioned a whole new career for herself

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STYLE

PHOTOGRAPHS BY IAN MACAULEY

ucille and her husband Richard founded the aspirational fashion chain Whistles in 1976. It was a forerunner of what is now appreciated as a concept store and it achieved phenomenal success. They sold it in 2001 and after a year as creative director at Liberty, the allure of fashion faded for Lucille and she embarked on a journey to pursue her love of art, starting a second career as a sculptor.

following. Many original customers are still our friends today.

When we sold it in 2001, we had 40 stores countrywide. But I was never personally into that whole fashion world for myself. I didn’t want Whistles to be known as a fashion brand, it was more about a curated concept.

Fashion and art have always been a big part of my life, I suppose it was more about me fulfilling something creative, aligning fashion and art.

In the beginning I was born in South Africa and studied fine art and anthropology briefly, before I met and married Richard when I was 21, but back then you just got married.

He got offered a place at Harvard Business School so we went off to the States and then came to London where I sort of fell into fashion by accident.

I started as an assistant to the merchandiser at Harvey Nichols before becoming a buyer.

I could see that there was an opening for clothes that filled a gap between high street and designer, which led to us launching our own shop, Whistles. The first one was on George Street in Marylebone and it just grew from there.

What was the trigger for starting a new career?

I had a benign brain tumour that was operated on successfully in 2009. It had been a stressful time selling Whistles, which could have been the trigger.

There had been warning signs, but I was always so busy, I didn’t heed them. It has left me slightly deaf in one ear and my face is not as expressive as it was, but otherwise I am absolutely fine and so grateful it was noncancerous.

I appreciate how lucky I have been and to have such a supportive family - Richard and my two sons, who all helped with my lengthy rehabilitation.

One son is a doctor, the other a lawyer and I now have a one-year old grandson.

Did you become disillusioned with fashion?

We started Whistles in 1976 and it quickly became successful. We wanted to create something different and we had a loyal

How come you chose to engage with ceramics and sculpture?

It was purely by chance! Not long after my recovery, I was meeting a friend who was taking a pottery class in East London.

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Lucille Lewin in her courtyard garden

While I was watching I just felt an immediate connection with the craft, the smell, the ritual and intensity, so I enrolled for evening classes which led to me taking up ceramics full time.

I just got hooked and studied Fine Art and Ceramics at City Lit college in Holborn.

My tutors encouraged me and I went on to complete a two year post grad degree at The Royal College of Art, receiving an MA in 2017.

What was it like being a mature student going back to college?

I’ve always worked with young people and loved being in a position to do so at college, where I was surrounded by younger students and made many friends.

The hardest thing was applying myself to the written course work, especially the dissertation. It was all consuming. There were lots of late nights.

And of course, adapting to computer technology was a big challenge but I love learning new things and I am a naturally curious person.

Are you an artist, ceramicist or sculptor?

A bit of all three but I prefer to be called a sculptor. Having come to it later in life, my respect for artists is enormous. It is so hard to make something unique and to make it work as a living. Everything has had its time in my life and happened as it should and everything u has taught me something.

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Lucille Lewin in her studio

“I’m driven by my curiosity, I am continually looking, searching, discovering” GOLDIE magazine | 21

Lucille at work in her Marylebone studio 22 | GOLDIE magazine

“Having come to it late in life, I have a new found respect for artists. It is hard to make something totally unique and make a living”

u How much of you is in your work?

My work is very autobiographical. I pour everything into what I do, it reflects my emotional state. Some days I can create something easily, others days the clay just won’t perform and I respect that.

I am a product of having grown up in South Africa and feel very connected to the earth.

That organic landscape is so much part of my thought process, that link to nature, it comes from deep inside and has to be authentic. My pieces make themselves in a way and are very intricate and layered.

What inspires you?

Everything, but especially the raw beauty of nature. I am driven by my curiosity, I am continually looking, searching, discovering I must have been an irritating child.

Growing up in South Africa, I still have an ingrained love of the beach and landscape and all the natural plant forms you find there.

It emphatically influences my work now. We have a house in Plettenberg Bay which we visit at least once a year.

As a child I used to collect bits of drift wood and shells and store them away in boxes. I still do collect fragments of things I find everywhere, my work is made up of lots of little individual components.

Whose work do you admire?

I love the work of Karl Blossfeldt, the German sculptor, photographer and artist who was inspired by nature and the way plants grow, it resonates with today’s move towards a more organic lifestyle.

Of course, I love the writer and artist Edmund de Waal’s work, and admire Phoebe Cummings (who won the Woman’s Hour Craft Prize).

Where was your first solo show At Connolly in Mayfair. My friend Isabel Ettedgui has created something very special with Connolly, she curates an eclectic mix of fashion and art in a beautiful town house that resonates with my aesthetic.

I showed my first solo show of 14 pieces in porcelain and glass there last year. It was called The Time Between the Time: A Journey to Obsolescence, and the works

were based upon how humans find ourselves in this chaotic world.

How important was it to win the Young Masters Prize It gave me a real sense of achievement. I was thrilled to win the Young Masters Maylis Grand Ceramics Prize in 2017, and at my age to be called a Young Master!

The judges said that my work was, “experimental, beautifully made and totally original”.

The collection was inspired by the alchemists who invented 18th century European porcelain, the early microscopic photographs of the natural world by Karl Blossfeldt, and worked in a combination of porcelain, glass and salt crystals.

Describe your creative process My work often starts with the title and evolves from there. I often wake up with a title in my head, they leap off the page from a book, radio programme or a poem and that’s my starting point.

Some are very organic, like Forest of No Consequences or The Complicity of Silence.

My studio and kiln is in my home in Marylebone so I can work at any time of the day. Each piece takes at least three months to make. Sometimes I start something, leave it and go back months later.

There’s always admin to sort, it can take me over, ordering supplies and sorting out exhibitions. Often the work is very physical, so I do call in some extra help, heaving boxes and materials about.

How do you relax?

I love silence and relaxing in my courtyard garden which a friend Geraldine Casey helped me design. I get a creative buzz from reading, visiting galleries and museums and could spend days at the V&A (and did while researching as a student).

I like the opera but most of all I love cooking for family and friends and enjoy being with my grandson who is such a joy.

Does fashion still interest you?

I’m not really interested in fashion trends as such but I am interested in observing the

move towards sustainability. I know what I like - simple minimalist shapes - and buy from Cos and Uniqlo and, for special occasions, my good friend Anna Valentine, who makes beautiful clothes. I also like a little individual boutique, Mouki Mou in Chiltern Street, who source unusual things.

Do you participate in London Craft Week?

I was involved in two talks, focusing on, “The Resurgence of Ceramics: Taking Over the Fine Art World”. It’s always stimulating to chat with like-minded enthusiasts and to meet new artists.

London Craft Week is a great initiative and show case for crafts in general. That can only be good thing.

I am open and curious and it’s good to share.

I like the sharing of images on Instagram for example, everyone can be creative.

Where do you sell?

Collectors from all over the world buy my work. Sculptures range in price, generally from £1,200 to £7,000, but I always tend to keep a few pieces that were pivotal moments in my journey, for sentimental reasons.

And what is next?

I went to China recently to research the wonderful Dehua white porcelain, known in the west as Blanc de Chine, and I’m currently working with this extraordinary white clay to produce an exciting display which will be held at the V&A in autumn.

It will be all about the artists who have been inspired by the white clay in their work.

The first vessel brought to Europe by Marco Polo from China was made from Blanc de Chine and it’s inspired European artists ever since.

I went to Dehua, where it is mined, to work with the clay with ceramicist Peter Ting who has put the exhibition together and it will have his beautiful work in the show.

It will be held from September 2019 until May 2020 in the Ceramics Galleries of the V&A and is called Blanc de Chine, A Continuous Conversation. n www.lucillelewin.com GOLDIE magazine | 23

MICHAEL EAVIS

One of the most amiable, non-threatening, non-macho and well-loved action heros you could find

The Somerset dairy farmer who went to Bath Blues Festival in 1970 and loved the music so much he decided to set up his own festival on his family farm in Glastonbury, and created something so big, so special, and so well-loved, that even 49 years later he still seems surprised and utterly delighted. This year, a quarter of a million people made the journey to Worthy Farm to enjoy a vast array of music, performances, talks and creativity. From Stormzy to Kylie, Vampire Weekend to The Cure, poetry to circus, yoga classes to environmental talks, and comedy to permaculture sessions. With some of the biggest international music acts and some of the most inspiring creative performances, ethical stalls and political inspiration, it’s one of the most loved and successful festivals WORDS SUE WHEAT on the planet. avis’s favourite band in 1970 was the Kinks, who inspired him that day at Bath Festival. “I played their single ‘Lola’ to the cows every day through a sound system I’d rigged up through a sewer pipe wired into an amplifier with no knobs, just wires - it sounds crazy, doesn’t it?

But to this day I’d say there’s never been a better sound than that.”

He called the venue the next day, got the Kinks’ number from the receptionist and booked them for £500. “Little did she know now that she gave me the phone call that made all the difference to my life. I wonder if she’s still alive?”

The Kinks pulled out when Melody Maker wrote a story saying 24 | GOLDIE magazine

they were playing ‘a mini festival’ - “that was so embarrassing… but who can blame them? – they were number one at the time and I didn’t know what the hell I was doing”. Then Marc Bolan saved the day, passing the farm on his way to play Butlins in Minehead with T-Rex. Eavis persuaded Bolan to drive down Worthy Farm’s mud, thorn-strewn track in his wide, velvet-lined, swanky American car.

“Marc said ‘I’m not going down there!’ And I said ‘well that’s where the show is, and it gets wider as you go down’ - which was not strictly true…” And to this day he was the best artist of all time - even though he was cross – and he gave me a chance didn’t he? He gave me the faith to carry on actually.”

It was John Martin in 1979 who was his u

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COURTESY OF EXTINCTION REBELLION

u absolute favourite though. “I couldn’t love you more… oh it was a real tear jerker that one.” Then there was Bowie in his 1971 glam-rock hey-day, playing on a solstice morning at 4am with the sun rising over the Glastonbury Tor, “He was so good, with all his lovely long hair, dressed like a duchess or something.”

It would be hard to find anyone else on the planet (and certainly not an 84-year-old who also has a day-job as a dairy farmer the rest of the year) with such an impressive array of celebrity stories up their sleeve and who tells them with such humility and admiration.

“We’re hoping for Fleetwood Mac one day. We can’t afford them at the moment.

Apparently they really do want to do it and if they don’t do it before they die they said they’re going to hell - they said that not me!”

Like any good action hero, Eavis is pretty fearless but in a gentle, rather vicarly-like way. His stories reveal he seems to deal with hostility from the community, councils, court cases, the media, politicians and even criminals - all in the same way - with disarming, jocular rationality.

In the ‘80s someone pulled a knife on him wanting the biscuit tin of money he was carrying. “I wasn’t afraid. I said ‘you wouldn’t do that to me would you?’ And he said ‘no I don’t suppose I would,’ and walked away. It’s an attitude of mind. These people aren’t any different to you and me – we’re all the same.”

He loves telling the story that Michael Heseltine (nicknamed Tarzan at the time) evicted 30,000 people from Stonehenge in the 80s “because they were a threat to the nation – can you believe that? And he was Minister of Defence! Then they all promptly came down the road to Glastonbury Festival, made themselves incredibly useful, and helped me make the festival into the success it is today. So Tarzan turned it around for me really,” and again, he laughs.

“The lesson from that is I had trust in people and I’ve kept the Stonehenge people on ever since. And how much did that cost do you think? I don’t care. Because they’ve got the talent and can deliver and they were so skilled and so able. I learnt a lot from those kids actually. I owe them a huge debt. And there’s around 20 still going strong here now.”

His love of, and faith in people comes through constantly. He loves the ecologicallyfocused Green Futures field and gives an intimate talk there to a packed tent. He reels off names of people who’ve run things over the years, including Penny Kemp, who despite being crippled by Parkinson’s and unable to speak, he insists takes her place on the stage with him. “Thank you Penny, thank you,” he says. And while he’s making speeches to the crowd he constantly asks if people are there, and then thanks them whether they are or not.

Later, when I ask him what he’s most proud of at the Festival, he answers: “Understanding people.” Trust, it seems, is something he has 26 | GOLDIE magazine

lots of. He reels off people who’ve worked with him through the years… Arabella Churchill, granddaughter of Winston and a wild-child of the 70s who worked with him for 34 years managing the theatre field. “She brought all the hippies with her and left me with a footprint that’s lasted all through the years which was the green, ecology message.”

Paul Charles, the only agent that phoned him back and who he rewarded with a life-long commitment to run the Acoustic stage. “He believed in me and got me Van Morrison and Jackson Brown on the same bill in 1982 – that was a real miracle for me.”

But the music, he says (although he was really looking forward to the Killers), “is the least important part of the festival – it’s all the stuff that goes on around the edges.” This year he was most proud of the Glastonbury Pier, the new Arcadia show and Shakespeare in the woods. “This really is the best one ever….” And he gives away that there is likely to be a 50th celebration next year, even though they normally have a year off in between.

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ther festivals don’t compare, he says. “I saw a TV programme about Ibiza – there’s no moral compass to those corporate festivals. We’re slightly different aren’t we?”

More than 3 million people try to book to come here, he says, which is almost 5 per cent of the entire UK population. “People come to us because they trust us, plus they like what we do with the money…” (Glastonbury donates to numerous local and international charities every year - in 2017 that totalled £3m.)

“I’m driven by my Methodist upbringing.

I feel like I’ve got to do as much as I can do for humanity. That’s what keeps me going. I don’t want a new car or yacht or anything. My dear mother said the best thing I’d done was to buy 50 houses in Pilton village and make them into social housing, never mind the festival. They’ll never be sold, they’ll always be affordable. I like to invest in society - local clubs, Oxfam, WaterAid and Greenpeace. I don’t want to be a moron.”

His financial support of CND nearly bankrupted him in 1982, when the festival sold out and he gave away 50 per cent of his profits to them, but hadn’t realised he’d have to pay tax on the donation, as peacemongering goes against the definition of charity. The nuclear threat is still the thing that keeps him awake at night, he admits.

This year, driven by his daughter Emily who now co-runs the festival with him “We’re a dream team – we each do what the other doesn’t want to” - Glastonbury Festival threw themselves behind the new movement campaigning on the climate and ecological emergency, Extinction Rebellion (XR). “All the best people I know are involved in it,” he says.

International elders spoke from the Park Stage and took a procession of thousands u

MICHAEL EAVIS

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MICHAEL EAVIS

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SUE WHEAT

u to the now iconic XR pink boat in Kings Meadow near the sacred stones. Messages about the emergency were on posters, bags, screens and information signs all weekend.

Single use plastic bottles were banned, the largest temporary recycling plant was set up on site for cans, plastic and compost, and Sir David Attenborough came and congratulated the crowds for being part of a new wave of environmental activism.

Environmentalism is in Eavis’s bones.

He clearly loves the West Country, nature, his cows and the land. I ask what he’s most proud of in terms of site management and he talks about simple things like letting the hedges grow into trees, or improving the drainage, but then divulges something much more exciting - that they’re turning 80kw of methane from the cow’s slurry into electricity every hour with a biodigester all day and night. “That’s a lot of electric from the methane in the cow dung and it’s all going into the national grid. There’s a future there isn’t there? And it’s cut my electricity bills down from £3000 a month to £21,” he laughs.

This helps with the ‘elephant in the room question’ about the impact of being a dairy farmer, but it can’t quite resolve it, given the contribution of livestock farming to the climate emergency. “I don’t know what to do about that really…. My family have been doing it for 200 years and we provide food to people in all corners of the earth… beautiful cheese, butter, milk… we’re feeding millions of people with essential food - that’s got to be a good thing right? But Emily’s not really into it, so it will probably die with me, so people haven’t got long to go!”

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© Sue Wheat @SooStow

ould Glastonbury Festival be a trailblazer and become carbon neutral any time soon? He brings it back to going step-bystep, trusting in capable people, action and positivity. He wants electric vehicles, more renewable energy, more water fountains, more rented, pre-erected tents – and one day, the use of human waste to generate power. “I tried to use it on the land 35 years ago… I nearly got sent to prison for that you know.”

When I tell him how many people have told me that he – and the festival – have inspired them into environmental activism - he takes the compliment happily. “Yes… it does seem that way doesn’t it? I must have done something right! There’s no political pressure here, it’s a free state of mind, people can do whatever they want to do.”

Worthy farm is “the University of Life”, he says. “That’s what it’s all about really.

Living together, working together, liking each other, falling in love, having babies all those wonderful things that can carry on in a normal society. Hardly any need for police, hardly any violence, there’s not much stealing going on any more is there? Isn’t that amazing? It’s the perfect society really, and it’s how the whole world should be living I think.” n

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SURFER GIRL

Jo Moseley rides the crest of a wave and finds new inner strength and joy in being alive

ou’re too old for this action woman stuff, Jo,” she says. I look up to see a family friend watching as I walk slowly but surely up from the beach.

“No, I’m just a bit tired,” I reply, smiling. “It’s my second time out on the waves today.” I continue on my way, board and paddle in one hand, a bag of plastic litter in the other. The final steps up the steep hill from the sand to the cottage are the slowest. I walk past the bustling pub as holidaymakers enjoy a Yorkshire pint, admiring the spectacular sea view.

It is the long Easter weekend and summer has come early. I’ve spent the past three days in my swimsuit, wetsuit or rash vest and leggings.

I feel like I did as a little girl – free, confident in my body, joyful.

There is sand between my toes, and tiny strands of seaweed in my uncombed hair.

In the bright morning sunshine and warm evening glow, I’ve paddleboarded out on the North Sea. I’ve watched oystercatchers swoop overhead, spotted an inquisitive seal and collected plastic from a secluded beach. Dancing in the waves eased my aching muscles, and I ran back with chattering teeth for a warm shower and hot tea.

I’m training for my summer adventure and relishing every moment.

In July, I set off on my PaddleboardTheNorth challenge, stand-up paddleboarding (SUP) from Liverpool to Goole, 162 miles along the Desmond Family Canoe Trail, incorporating the Leeds & Liverpool GOLDIE magazine | 33

Canal and Aire & Calder Navigation. I will be fundraising for the surf therapy charity The Wave Project and the 2MinuteBeachClean community. As I have for the past 18 months, I will also be doing my own daily litter pick from the canal and encouraging others to do the same.

There are 90 locks to negotiate on the Leeds & Liverpool Canal. I will climb off the water, carry my board round the lock and get back in. Some of the swing bridges are so low that I lie flat on my stomach and swoosh under with fingers crossed I don’t get stuck.

“The Northern Crossing is quite a big undertaking,” Jason, the only chap ever to have completed it on a paddleboard, reminded me recently. “You are brave to do it.”

This weekend I am making the most of the April sunshine to build up my strength, skills and endurance on the sea. I am treasuring these moments of joy for the times when my spirits will be low and I begin to question my ability to paddle another mile.

As I fall into bed at 9pm, I think back to what my friend said. Am I, at 54, too old to paddleboard and is the summer challenge too much for me? Have I set myself a goal too far for a woman of my age, already juggling the menopause, my job, side hustle and responsibilities to my dad and my sons?

“No,” I conclude before sleep envelops me. “She is wrong.

I’m not ‘too old’, I’m simply and understandably exhausted.”

I feel emboldened by my answer. I’m not normally one to contradict. If you tell me I can’t do something, my most likely response has been to agree and then add five more reasons why I am not up to the task. I will never be the cool, badass or eccentric older woman so beloved by journalists. I colour within the lines, do not have a tattoo and have no desire to dye my hair purple.

And yet something has changed since I reached 50. I feel braver, stronger, more self-assured. Maybe it is my fluctuating hormones or the power of social media to amplify voices of women like me finding purpose and joy in midlife. Maybe it is a sense of accomplishment that I have raised two sons on my own and am proud of the men they have become. Or maybe it is the sobering reality of too many condolence cards and too many funerals of friends who didn’t reach 50 that have made me realise how very short and precious life is. There is no time to waste with paralysing self-doubt when I have dreams to pursue and plastic to save from the waves.

The challenge is huge and will demand every ounce of courage, strength and mental fortitude I can muster. I am excited and terrified in equal measure. But if I don’t try, I won’t know what’s possible.

The next morning my son and I head for the beach. Happy headstands done, I head out into the sea. Kneeling on my board, I am

“Stand up, Jo. You can do this, you’re ready.”

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paddling straight into the wind. If I stand, I will become a sail and I don’t want to risk that.

I can see the beach at the far end of the bay. It is not easy to reach by foot, and I often find plastic bottles and fishing gear. I’ve come to see it as a special place that I can look after when I’m by the coast: a beach I can make a difference to. Just a little farther I tell myself. If it gets too much, I will turn back. I am safe – that is always my priority – but I wonder if I have enough energy left after the weekend.

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wenty minutes in, it is too exhilarating to turn back. I feel like a warrior woman with each stroke. I am strong, independent and determined. I have one goal in mind and that is to reach the beach. Right now, nothing else matters. The freedom to be so focused on something so personal feels a little selfish and quite intoxicating.

An hour later I finally reach the shore and pull up my board to search for litter. I was here a couple of days ago and, thankfully, not much more has been washed in. I take a sip of water, tie the small bag of plastic to my board and head for home.

The tide has turned and the wind has risen. Everything is going in one direction – back to the beach I came from. As I paddle out, I hear a little voice from within: “Stand up, Jo. You can do this, you’re ready.”

I am surprised. I have been paddleboarding for two-and-a-half years and have never stood up in such choppy waves or windy conditions.

Can I really do this?

I didn’t set out for this to be a “Prove Her Wrong” moment, but somehow it feels as if nature is sending me a message. I get to my feet and feel the thrill of moving forward at a speed I have not experienced before. I paddle harder, moving carefully from side to side, keeping my balance and at one with the waves. I momentarily look down and see the tip of the board riding the crest of the wave. My heart beats faster. I am surfing across the grey North Sea. I am flying!

A wave comes from the side and I start to wobble. “Keep steady,” says the voice. “It’s all good, you can do this!” And I do! The board and I keep going towards the beach.

A few minutes later, I am close to the shoreline and the breaking waves. I drop to my knees, exhilarated, grateful, bursting with pride.

I turn back to the horizon.

“Thank you, thank you,” I say, soaking up every aspect of the moment. I feel so alive and so present to my own possibility.

I pick up a few more bits of tiny plastic from the beach and head for the cottage. Nourished by a morning on the waves, my heart beats with joy, gratitude and determination to make a contribution to the health of the sea. Our own wellbeing depends on it, as well as the sea life which brings such happiness. I am weary yet have a spring in my step.

I don’t know what PaddleboardTheNorth will demand of me or if I will meet the challenge well. What I know for sure is that I need to give myself the chance to try, and I will give it every ounce of my being and more. I am not too old to do something wild and it is never to late to make a difference. The beach has taught me that. n

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LIFE’S A BEACH

FIFTY SHADES OF BLUE After visiting the Greek islands for more than 40 years, Nigel Summerley explains why it’s a love affair without end

Beach bum: Nigel Summerley on the island of Tilos 38 | GOLDIE magazine

HARRIET EINSIEDEL

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s there a heaven? Yes, I’ve been there many times.

It’s a place where the sky is bright azure, the tideless sea is deep blue, and the oases of land come in countless shapes and sizes, always with great beaches: one beautiful island after another, so many that their number seems infinite.

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The Greek islands are heaven on earth – and that’s the way they’ve been for thousands of years. But, for me, it all started with a childhood trip to the library and reading a book about life in ancient Greece. It sounded kind of exciting – and hot and sunny (and a tad more interesting than growing up in the East Midlands in the 1960s). And then came The Iliad and The Odyssey and all the tales of heroes and gods, and amazing adventures, and endless descriptions of rosy-fingered dawns and wine-dark seas.

Even at the age of eight or nine, I could tell there was something sensual about these tales of barely dressed men and women gallivanting about the Aegean with their passionate couplings, vengeful feuds and shit-scary run-ins with monstrous enemies.

It was Game of Thrones long, long before Game of Thrones.

There was Jason (of Argonauts fame), Theseus (the Minotaur slayer) and that ultimate island hopper (and bed hopper) Odysseus – he was trying to get home to his wife (or so he said) but was forced to be the sex slave of a nymph called Calypso on the island of Ogygia, only managing to escape her clutches after seven years. And that’s not a quick getaway...

All that leaping aboard boats and discovering strange islands, with their hidden dangers and potential erotic delights was for me an irresistible lure.

The true history of the Greek islands is almost as rich as the myths. The islands have been inhabited for millennia, their peoples living on fishing and agriculture and rugged survivalism; and 5,000 years ago they were 40 | GOLDIE magazine

producing art that could stand alongside that from any subsequent period and not be put in the shade.

The Crete-based civilisation that we know as Minoan (after legendary king Minos, father of the half-bull, half-man Minotaur), with its remarkable palaces, command of the sea and network of trade, flourished for centuries before the volcanic ash and tsunami from the eruption of Santorini around 3,500 years ago sent it into decline.

Greeks from the mainland and Phoenicians took over the trade routes for a while (this was the time of that little Trojan disagreement – most likely a trade war rather than a cuckolded king’s revenge) but the islands remained mostly in decline. They suffered from Greek-on-Greek action as well as Persian invasions. Then Alexander the Great consolidated a unified Greece – it was a cultural high point and saw the resurgence of the islands.

Then Rome got in on the act. And what did the Romans ever do for the Greek islands?

Not a lot. They ran things for 400 years before their empire split into two – Rome and Byzantium. From the 11th century to the 18th, the islands were kicked around by crusaders, Venetians, Turks and pirates from all over the place.

The Greek independence movement gathered strength in the 19th century, and the islands fought and finally threw off foreign domination.

Pausanias was one of the first travel writers to describe the Greek islands – in the second century AD. A bit later, The Durrells, as TV watchers know, discovered the Greek islands – particularly Corfu – in the 1930s. They were followed by the beatniks of the Fifties and the hippies of the Sixties and Seventies, most notably Joni Mitchell. Joni’s sojourn in the prehistoric caves above the idyllic Matala beach in southern Crete produced songs that became highlights of her masterpiece album Blue.

Hot spot: sunset on Matala beach in Crete

“The Greek islands have always been about sun, sea, sand and more than a hint of sex” Matala is still (commercial) hippie central and it stages an annual music festival on the beach – Glastonbury with sun and sand. And you can still visit the caves and try to figure out which was the one where Joni shacked up with Carey (“You’re a mean old daddy but I like you...”)

The Greek islands have always been about sun, sea, sand and more than a hint of sex. After the hippies, the searching-forherself Shirley Valentine came to Mykonos (encountering Tom Conti’s immortal chatup line: “Of course I want make fuck with you”); and then there was the tangled web of relationships on Skopelos that was Mamma Mia! (with Pierce Brosnan’s equally unforgettable singing).

I began my own love affair with the Greek islands in the Seventies with visits to Crete (to see the Minoan ruins of Knossos, Malia and Phaistos) and then to the tavernas of the Cycladic isle of Paros.

When I arrived on Paros in 1978, there was no water supply for three days, and it felt like we had come to a very primitive frontier place. There was, though, no shortage of retsina or ouzo. And the only town was so small that it didn’t take long to find the best bars. That summer they were all playing the first Dire Straits album, which, perhaps oddly, was the perfect soundtrack for boozy Aegean nights.

When I next saw Paros, 30 years later, from the deck of a ferry bound for Athens, it was the worst nightmare come true – the island looked as if every square inch of it (where once there had been nothing but a little town and a lot of beach) had been built on.

Some islands have changed – some haven’t.

I’ve just returned from visiting a friend who lives on unspoilt Syros. Looking across the water to Mykonos, she said to me: “It disgusts me what they did to it – but of course it was for the money. I just hope it never happens here.”

Even in the Seventies, I found Mykonos GOLDIE magazine | 41

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fairly repulsive; now you can’t move for hotels and bars and loud beach parties.

Mykonos has had an airport since 1971; Paros, sadly, followed suit in 1982. Planes bring undeniable profits – and irreplaceable losses.

Tourists take the plane; travellers take the ferries. You can fly to the islands – but why would you want to get there so fast and miss cruising over the wine-dark waters?

In the Seventies, ferries took for ever to get anywhere, and you ended up trying to find room for you and your rucksack somewhere on the busy decks. The boats were sometimes notoriously overcrowded and perhaps not entirely safe. In 2000 an ageing ferry named Express Samina sank with the loss of 81 lives.

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hings have improved a lot over the past 40 years – almost too much.

A jet boat from the Athenian port of Piraeus can have you in the heart of the Cyclades in two hours, but it’s too quick. It feels more like commuting than heading off into the deep blue in search of adventure. The run-of-the-mill ferries still take their time – four or five hours to the Cyclades, up to 12 hours to Crete. And you can still sit on the deck if you want to; but there are proper seats inside and, either way, great views to be had of island after island.

As Shirley Valentine found, taking your clothes off is an important part of the Greek island experience. There are nudist beaches (official or unofficial) almost everywhere, but you are guaranteed to be able to get comfortably naked on Naxos, Donoussa, Schinoussa, Syros and Skopelos.

The Cyclades are probably the ultimate Greek islands, their name taken from the circle that they form around the sacred isle of Delos. But there is much to be said for the other island groups: the Sporades, the Ionians, the Dodecanese, the Eastern Aegean.

I would say try them all, especially the ones that it’s difficult to get to. The important thing is not to get the islands mixed up – know your Paros (packed with sun-seekers) from your Poros (pair of small linked islands popular with Athenians); your Tilos (tough little island just off Turkey) from your Tinos (holy island with beautiful unspoilt villages); your Syros (with its sophisticated city of Ermoupolis) from your Skyros (trendy haven for New-Agey yoga types); and your Ikaria (large rugged island named after Icarus, victim of the first flying accident) from your Iraklia (tiny almost unknown Cycladic isle).

Food is as important as sun, sea and sex.

And in the islands it comes simple and scrumptious: xoriatiki (Greek salad), xorta

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Capital of the Cyclades: the city of Ermoupolis on the island of Syros

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“A jet boat from Athens can have you in the Cyclades in two hours” 44 | GOLDIE magazine

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Power trip: a high-speed ferry ready to leave the Athenian port of Piraeus GOLDIE magazine | 45

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(field greens), tsatsiki, skordalia, cheese pies (in every shape and size), baklava, and wonderful stews and soups... There is a restaurant on the west side of Corfu in the hilltop village of Sinarades where, I promise you, they serve the best home-made food ever... Local wine is almost always extremely drinkable – it also tends not to give you a hangover. That job is best left to ouzo, raki, metaxa – and the very best retsina which tastes fantastic as it addles your brain.

In the Cyclades, it helps if your favourite colour is blue – and if it isn’t, it soon will be. Blue paint would be a good commodity to invest in. It’s used on doors, windows, boats, railings, gates, roofs, pedestrian lanes, road signs, churches, police stations... And everywhere the blue and white flag of Greece flies alongside (and a little higher than) the EU flag (also blue).

There are great beaches on just about every island: among my special favourites are Varvarousa on Syros, Psili Ammos on Serifos, Petrokourio on Fourni, Skafi on Tilos, and Kokkinokastro on Alonissos. They are all contenders for that “paradise beach” accolade. But special mention must go to: the whitest beach/bluest sea combination at Issos on Corfu; the best sunset beach at glorious Falasarna on the very western edge of Crete; the amazing Kolona “double” beach on Kythnos, a golden strand that manages to have sea on both sides; and Vathi on Sifnos, where the taverna tables are set on the beach and the water laps close to your feet as you dine.

I loved the sublime blue-and-white Aghios Assanasios Square on Serifos where time stands still; climbing to the bleached-white

“There are great beaches on just about every island”

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Chosoviotissa Monastery which hangs from the dark mountainside on Amorgos; living in a windmill on Kimolos; walking the old footpaths of Tilos even though the bushes cut my legs to pieces; scuba diving naked on Skopelos; eating the finest of cheese pies on Alonissos; spending three weeks getting the brownest I’ve ever been on Skiathos; exploring Ikaria where folk still work the fields at the age of 90; walking among the ancient ruins on the sunburnt isle of Delos; and dancing under the stars to an all-night concert on Schinoussa.

From any Greek island, you always seem to be able to see four or five other islands – sometimes more. And just when you’ve figured out exactly which is which, another one will suddenly come into focus in the haze on the horizon and leave you wondering: so which one is that?

Seeing the islands again can be like looking through old photos: “Yes, I was there in 1980”... “Didn’t we have an amazing time there in 2005?” The islands are chunks of your life.

Life for the islanders has gone through so many changes – particularly in the past few decades. But in case you’re wondering... Yes, they still smoke in restaurants; they still have plumbing that can’t cope with toilet paper; toddlers still sit in the front seat of cars on their mothers’ laps; motorcyclists still appear not to have heard of crash helmets; abandoned cars still sit rusting in the fields...

And there’s always a dog barking; always a rooster crowing; always a hungry-looking cat on the scrounge; always a ferry leaving or arriving; always that one mosquito that manages to get into your bedroom whatever you do; and always another island just across the water that could be even better than the one you’re sunning yourself on at the moment... ¢

As good as it gets: Issos beach on Corfu

LIFE’S A BEACH

The finest place in the universe Susan Muncey remembers halcyon days beside the Great Yarmouth seaside

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ummaging through some old ephemera, I stumbled upon this photograph, which must have been taken around 1970.

I am in a dodgem car, covered in sand, with hair still wet – oddly, wearing what looks like school uniform: I had probably grown out of everything else including the dodgem car, by the looks of it.

Memories came flooding back.

From the moment the chimney of South Denes power station emerged above the

pancake-flat Norfolk Broads and as the train circled the vast expanse of Breydon Water, I became transfixed by the ever-growing monolith. My grandmother’s house seemed almost within touching distance. I would soon be back in her 1930s world of berries (for jam-making), bottles (for pickling) and buckets (for keeping live eels) – and grinning ear to ear. I could barely contain my excitement.

Most days we would walk to the beach at Gorleston, initially through divine, doughy aromas wafting down the road from the GOLDIE magazine | 47

Matthes bakery, famous for its Sunshine bread; through peppermint from the rock shop; the cloying sugar-sweetness of candy floss; an acerbic whiff of vinegar on beer batter; and the persistent odour of frying chip fat. I can still smell the crisp cone wafers, the tutti-frutti mix of musky angelica and candied cherries, and sprinkles of luridly coloured hundreds and thousands at Della Spina’s ice-cream booth on Marine Parade.

Afternoons were a joy of tooth-crunching, home-made toffee apples, sticky nougat and freshly baked fudge.

Sometimes I was allowed to play in the garden and climb up to the treehouse with the art-school cousins my parents called “hippies” and “dropouts”. In these special moments I got to experience something far removed from my suburban existence.

My uncle – in those days referred to as a “commercial artist”, possibly the equivalent of a modern-day art director, who reputedly invented the plastic eggbox – had left my aunt with five children. Their large house was furnished in cutting-edge style, including a then abnormal for anywhere in the UK, let alone Norfolk, American-style fitted kitchen.

Arty, blown-up photographs, abstract prints and oils adorned the walls, while coffee tables were dotted with the sort of naïve

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ceramic objects I now drool over at art fairs and auctions.

My soft-hearted, unworldly aunt was not entirely in command, as I recall from her giggly drowsiness the afternoon she unwitting ate one of the pot cakes made by her older children. She introduced my parents to “country and western” evenings at the Cliff Hotel, frequented by Americans working on nearby oil rigs, who in turn invited us to our first-ever barbecue.

Occasionally, we would go to my favourite place of all: the secret love of my conscious dreams. As we walked by the River Yare, the incongruous juxtaposition of huge cargo vessels with their squeaking cranes and derricks, the paraphernalia of fish refrigeration, and impossibly floating parts of oil rigs, dwarfed the terraced houses along the quayside. Seagulls cried in piercing screams as they wheeled over the Birds Eye factory, while water rushed and lapped along the flood walls into a grey-brown soup that swirled and eddied out to sea. This was my special, secret place, where I wanted to live.

Here, but maybe not here, perhaps if these houses were in St Ives in Cornwall, where I’d never been before, but had seen a photograph of somewhere. The houses in question formed a single row, and bay windows jutted

“Seagulls cried in piercing screams as they wheeled over the Birds Eye factory”

precariously out from several floors up. They were taller than the others and painted in contrasting pastel shades of cream, peach and blue. I liked their higgledy-piggledy style: like artists’ houses. I imagined that one day I, too, would be an artist and live in such a house.

This was also the place where we took the ha’penny ferry, a simple wooden rowing boat, across the river to another forgotten world. A square of cobbled stones and derelict warehouses with something totally and unexpectedly imposing and astonishing: Britannia, atop a towering plinth – silhouetted against the sunlit sky. I didn’t know then that this 144ft column had been built to celebrate Norfolk-born Nelson’s victory at the Battle of Trafalgar. His first sailing had been from Great Yarmouth, and this monument was the original version, having been constructed before the one in Trafalgar Square.

Best of all, following the cobbled street to the top, and turning left, was the Pleasure Beach – its horizon-dominating rollercoaster and soaring double ferris wheel a sight to behold. Peggotty in David Copperfield was spot on when she described Great Yarmouth as, “upon the whole, the finest place in the universe”. n

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LIFE’S A BEACH

A beach for all seasons

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For Jane Jennison the fragrance of a beach holiday is less Hawian Tropic more Wet Wellies

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love the summer. Actually, I love all the seasons, as they each bring a particular set of joys. As it is summer now, it is right and proper (as the Book of Common Prayer would say) to celebrate all that summer brings to me. I know the consensus is to enjoy sunshine in hotter climes, but for me, the beach is always cold, windy, and adjoining the North Sea. As a travel-sick child, holidays were to the nearest point, as this would involve less vomiting. So, Norfolk was our go-to destination.

I have scant memories, and none of them pleasant. My favourite and my best (as Lola – of ‘Charlie and Lola’ books by Lauren Child, would say) holiday as a child was a week in Derby with my paternal grandma, staying with her sister, not long after my grandfather died. There was a comfy bed and a loo that flushed, unlike many of our family holidays at campsites in Norfolk.

As we had travelled on train, car-sickness had not appeared, either. I remember how lovely my great-aunt’s garden was, cheese and tomato-sauce sandwiches and walking Winnat’s Pass in the Derbyshire National Park. All of these were bliss.

In my mind, it was the school summer holiday, but I have no-one who can confirm this. As Joseph’s Coat of Many Colours was in flower I think it was actually the Easter holiday, as it’s a spring-flowering perennial, not summer. But, it felt like summer and a huge adventure in foreign lands, and that is

perhaps what encapsulates summer joy for many of us.

As an adult, I can plan and organise my own summer holidays in a way that as a child we could not. I have travelled to hot, sunny places but that is not where summer’s joy lives for me. It is found by replicating, in some form, that summer holiday with my gran.

To be with loved ones, sleep well, eat well, and enjoy walks in beautiful countryside is still my go-to recipe for a perfect holiday. I had long-remembered Winnat’s Pass, but forgot its name. In a brief conversation with my dad’s sister, now in her nineties, who retired ‘back’ to Derbyshire, I described the walk, and she instantly knew where it was. By the powers of Google, I found some images online and they confirmed her identification.

As a young adult, I went on my first ‘adult’ walking holiday by accident. My dad had organised a caving trip for the Youth Service, and there were two spare places. My then-boy-friend (now husband) and I, both at University and wanting a cheap holiday, jumped at the chance.

We travelled by mini-bus to Yorkshire, and on day one realised that caving was ‘not for us’. For the rest of the week, we were aboveground, while the rest of the group were below. Walking the Yorkshire Dales, cooking and eating together in a group, less-thancomfy bunks and flushing loos, reminded me of all that was good in my childhood escape with my gran. This was the start of a pattern GOLDIE magazine | 51

of walking holidays in Yorkshire and Derbyshire, a long way from any beaches (though one year did feature Blackpool Iluminations), but full of joy.

I do enjoy the seaside, though.

We have friends who live in Bournemouth, so we get the delights of the Insider’s Guide and cheap parking, plus spending time with them: friends are a key ingredient in my recipe for summer joy.

It is lovely to visit the seaside on the gulf stream, with balmy air and warm waters – and sometimes seahorses! – compared to our local beaches here on the North Sea. But, there is such delight to be found in the stark beauty of a shingle beach and the abundant wildlife. Summer may be cocktails and flipflops on

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a tropical hideaway for you but for me, watching marsh harriers, or hearing larks as they sing in the clear blue sky above, wins every time. Each year, we are bombarded with ‘beach-ready’ or ‘summerready’ diet and exercise tips. My beach body wears windproof trousers and walking boots! For me to be summer-ready, I need an Ordnance Survey map and a flask. In the summer, we may be exhorted to smell of the latest designer perfume and to have a bottletan. I smell of sunshine, earth and salt and I couldn’t be happier. If life’s a beach, give me Shingle Street on the North Sea any day – but shhh! – it’s my secret place! n

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LIFE’S A BEACH

48

hours in Palma de Mallorca WORDS AND PICTURES REBECCA WEEF SMITH

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alma de Mallorca is the only true city in the Balearics. We love it so much that one day we will leave London and live there. Until then, we get our fill of island life through regular visits. Palma has poise and charisma, bags of art, quirky shops, Michelin Stars and an authentic vibe.

At its heart is the delightful 13th-century cathedral, La Seu, and in the maze of narrow streets and alleys of the surrounding old town, you could wander for 48 hours straight and still find plenty to amuse you.

A lot of the old mansions have been restored and are now hotels, restaurants,

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cafes and galleries. You are never far from great food or art in this city! Walk for 10 minutes or so in any direction to see all sorts of architectural styles to get a sense of the history of Palma going back over 1,000 years.

When you emerge from this labyrinth of shady lanes the wide expanse of the Mediterranean bay opens up before you; for a traditional beach holiday feel, the walk from Santa Catalina to Portixol along the promenade offers all three Mediterranean pleasures: boats, beach bars and beautiful bodies soaking up the good life. n

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n STAY AT Staycatalina Apartments Charming self-catering apartment suites in Santa Catalina, the art district we love to wander round and close to Mercat Santa Catalina, bursting with lovely bars and tiny shops filled to the brim with quirky oddities, as well as health food stores and vegan cafes. Every apartment has a patio or terrace and the style is laid-back-chic with whitewashed wood, tasteful art and rustic furniture.

Perfect if you want a relaxed stay where you can eat breakfast naked and relive your hippie past.

M House We love M House, just down the road from the Convent De La Missio, with all the benefits of that location but at a more affordable rate. M House is part of the fabulous UR group of hotels so the rooms are lovely, the staff super and the buffet breakfasts the best we have ever had. This is our go-to place to stay when in Palma and we have been known to combine it with a few nights at the UR Portofino on Palma beach front.

Hotel Convent de la Missió This converted convent is a special-occasion, spoil-yourself hotel. The central location is quiet and tucked away from any tourist destinations.

The rooms are understated luxury with an air of sublime calm, perfect for when a treat is called for. It’s also home to the Michelin star Marc Fosh (see page 58) restaurant, making it the best place to celebrate any significant event - birthday, anniversary, first date – anywhere in the world. n SHOP AT Mercat d’Olivar and the Mercat Santa Catalina Astonishing displays of fresh seafood, fruit and vegetables and local artisan produce. We always stock up on espadrilles and baskets here, and Weef rather likes the tiny painted pottery figures called Siurells. Each figurine is a whistle which was used by farmers and shepherds to control their flocks of sheep and goats.

Bconnected Vintage This little gem in Santa Catalina is where you’ll find that perfect vintage Louis Vuitton bag, Gucci dress or Prada skirt. Bconnected may well be tiny but it is packed with hardly-worn designer clothing and accessories. Prices are really good for the quality and condition and this is the best selection of summer second-hand I have seen.

Flamingo Vintage Kilo Cheap, cheerful, fun. Best for Levis (I can’t resist), and Americana vintage at great prices.

You pay for your clothes by the kilo so you know what you are letting yourself in for!

Rialto Living This lifestyle emporium occupies a Baroque-style ‘palacio’ that was once the 18th-century home of Irish military doctor John O’Ryan before it became Rialto Cinema in 1926 and showed many 56 || GOLDIE 56 GOLDIE magazine magazine

silver screen classics until it closed its doors in 2002. Its Balearic-chic fashion and homewares epitomise the creative buzz that surrounds the city and will make you wish you lived here. n GET SOME CULTURE Es Baluard Yes you should come here for the modern art, but it’s also for the coolest place to have morning coffee, lunch, or early evening drinks. The best views of the cathedral, old town and harbour can be found from the terrace, which is probably the most Instagrammable spot in the city.

Gerhardt Braun Gallery Close to Railto Living, the Gerhardt Braun Gallery comprises up to six exhibition spaces; many different projects are on show simultaneously, from installations to solo exhibitions and performance pieces. The building alone is worth a visit even if art isn’t really your thing.

The Miro Foundation A short bus ride from the centre of Palma (3, 46, or 20) but absolutely worth the effort. The gallery houses a permanent Miro collection but the highlight for us is the studio where Miro worked for many years. (Weef wants one just like it, even down to the rocking chair.) n EAT AT Fabiola Gastronomic Garden We went to Fabiola at lunchtime and it was a real treat. The menu is all about sharing, with a casual approach to dining in a wild garden theme setting. The attention to detail makes it difficult not to photograph every dish that appears on your table; the food is presented stylishly but it is the traditional flavours of top-quality ingredients which really shine through. My favourite dish was the lobster roll on brioche; Weef’s was the deconstructed pudding resembling a cake mix.

El Camino A proper tapas experience which can’t be beaten, El Camino is very popular with super-chic locals, so turn up unfashionably early or prepare to queue.

Sit at the bar and order from the ever changing menu - sourced from all the best produce that Mallorca has to offer. Co-owner Eddie Hart played a major part in establishing Spanish cuisine in London with the restaurants Fino and Barrafina, so it’s no surprise the feel of El Camino is urban cool. We left it up to the staff to guide our choices, including the fabulous local wines, which I could only sniff but which Weef tells me are delicious.

Assaona Gastrobeach No trip to Palma is complete without a beachbar lunch. While there are plenty to choose from Assaona Beach is a long-time favourite; this year it has had a name change, but it is still the same great place to sunbathe, eat, drink and feel as if you are at a very chic private party. n

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MARC

FO SH

In 2014 Marc Fosh was awarded a Michelin Star at his eponymous restaurant in Palma de Mallorca. He tells Rebecca Weef Smith how the Mediterranean way of life has shaped his culinary vision

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ou would be hard pressed to accidentally stumble on Marc Fosh’s restaurant in the super cool surroundings of the 17th century Hotel Convent de la Missió by accident. When the British chef opened Simply Fosh (as it was initially named) over a decade ago the backstreet it is situated on was “pretty dodgy… not the sort of area the well-to-do Mallorquins would go to for dinner.”

Despite his concerns about attracting the right clientele, the restaurant had a buzz about it right from the start. Now home to trendy galleries and boutiques, the area has gradually improved but is still off the beaten track, which only adds to the place’s unpretentious charm.

“I wanted to get away from the fussiness of Michelin and strip everything back to simply authentic food,” Marc tells me. “We had no sommelier, no table cloths, no maître d’, and the wine was left on the table. This was the source of much confusion as diners were expecting fine dining, and on one occasion a client said my wine list was the worst he had ever seen in a Michelin Star Restaurant and I had to explain that we weren’t one at that time.”

Moving to Palma was “never a planned affair” for the chef, who had drifted from France to San Sebastian in northern Spain when he was offered the opportunity to open a restaurant in Mallorca, somewhere he’d never been before. Yet his laidback philosophy has clearly been shapred by Mallorca. “I was inspired by the feel of the place from the first visit,” he explains. “I still am.”

Before he moved abroad, Marc’s his style was routed in the French way of cooking that he had learned in London in the eighties “Butter, butter, more butter and finished with cream”. San Sebastian introduced him to fine simple Mediterranean ingredients and this was further enriched when he began

cooking in Palma. “I was amazed by the rich diversity of the local produce grown on the island, but when I first started my kitchen here that wasn’t a fashionable way to cook; chefs were still looking outside of Mallorca for inspiration.

“The local ingredients were less appreciated than they are now, but I was excited as an outsider, and my enthusiasm caught on. We now have many more artisan producers applying new ideas to traditional skill based methods. Some of this has been down to necessity; in the past the young people would have remained elsewhere in the world but after the financial collapse many returned to the island and approached family businesses with new eyes. The collaboration between youthful ideas and

“We have a strong style, using local produce as much as possible and respecting the ingredients. This is sunshine food.” traditional methods has created a new vigour for Mallorquin agriculture.”

This enthusiasm includes locally produced wine, and with such a reputation for quality – the best wines win medals at international competitions – that the supply runs out before the end of the summer season. This also extends to Mallorquin olive oil – a major export since as early as the 13th century – and the unique salt harvested from mines in the south-east of Mallorca, known as ‘Flor de Sal’ (sea blossom salt), containing high concentrations of magnesium, potassium, and calcium – often flavoured with thyme

or rosemary as well as more exotic flavours including orange-chilli, hibiscus, and truffle.

Marc only discovered that the latter were indigenous to Mallorca four years ago and so has been able to add them to his increasing list of locally sourced ingredients. “We now have saffron grown here too and there has been a revival of a special Mallorcan paprika “tap de corti” which almost became extinct,” he adds.

While Marc is reluctant to take credit for the rise of Palma as a foodie capital, many of the most exciting chefs on the island have come through his kitchen. “We do work hard to educate young chefs,” he explains. “We have a strong style, using local produce as much as possible and respecting the ingredients. This is sunshine food and my philosophy is that happy chefs cook happy food.”

This respect for people as well as for ingredients seems key to the success of the restaurant – and to Marc’s personal philosophy. “I am proud of what we have all achieved here. We are relaxed enough here with what we do, we are confident it works, but we aren’t complacent. We have been around long enough to know that we can’t please everyone.

“When I was younger I was defensive but kitchens have changed, no one has hissy fits, it’s not acceptable any more. We all need to be aware of each other, it’s not about self-importance, it’s about emotional intelligence.”

For Marc, this is something that has got easier with age. “I have slowed down and simplified. I no longer micro-manage. I needed to make sure the restaurant was able to work without me and that was good for me and my staff; they know now that I trust them to manage.

“I was obsessive at one point in my life and demanded too much from my team. With age you get over yourself and you realise that’s it’s not all about you.” n GOLDIE magazine | 59

CLOSET CONFIDENTIAL

Known affectionally as the Kaftan Queen, creative director and brand founder, Juliet Dunn, talks to Angela Kennedy about how she built a much-loved global brand around kaftans and her love of France and India

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irtually coining the phrase Bo-Ho chic, Juliet Dunn dresses women who want something eclectic, individual, embellished and above all colourful, Whether they’re fun loving beach-combers, ladies that lunch, or one of the jet-set. You’ll find her embroidered tunics and mirrored maxi dresses on the beaches of Barbados or the streets of Paris.

WHY?

I was an Air Force child and went to nine different schools by the age of 10, which taught me all about independence. I loved living in Paris most of all and that’s given me a lifelong appreciation for all things French.

My father instilled in me the importance and dignity of work. “You have to work hard to earn your own living”, he impressed upon me.

I went to business school in the Seventies. Almost all the other girls there were debs with no intention of working but I was determined to make something more of myself. It was good grounding. I like to think I have a head for business.

I spent a lot of time in the South of France and have been going there since the Sixties – we still have a house in St Tropez.

I knew instinctively what worked in that resort environment and it was not generally on offer at that time. I needed to earn some money, loved fashion and thought: “what would women want to wear?”

I went to India to have a scout round, planning to make rectangular sarongs but ended up creating a collection of simple beach shoes from vintage saris which were snapped up by boutiques in St .Tropez. It all started from there with just £100 initial investment.

WHAT?

My first customer in the UK was Fortnum & Mason. I still have an original pattern for a tunic from the

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Seventies, which has recently been reworked and is successful all over again. I gave up for a short while in the Eighties to have my two children but still freelanced for a lingerie label, creating a range of girly lace vest tops which sold in their millions.

A proud moment was seeing my pure silk dressing gown modelled by Carre Otis on a Vogue cover in June 1989. I just found one on eBay the other day, which brought back many memories.

I am best known for glamorous resort wear that can be worn all year round. Though it has a French aesthetic, everything is created through my long loyal partnership with craftsmen and women in India.

Everything is hand crafted, using old dying techniques and wood blocks. It is a labour of love and very time consuming. My team are in Jaipur and head office in Delhi.

I’ve worked with the same Indian factory for 18 years now, we are like a family. I go out often, overseeing the designs and colour combinations.

We work in cotton or silk and draw on many of the traditional embroidery skills, providing consistent work for the local communities.

My first trade show in Paris was swamped, which was so gratifying.

Buyers were queuing up to buy

mirrored skirts, which I made in all colours including black and white – which horrified Sanjay, who is still working with me today.

WEAR

I loved a mini skirt back in the day. My own eclectic signature style has never really changed over the years. It’s all about colour and glamour for me, I like a bit of sparkle.

I wear my own collection all year round, not just for summer. I mix and match tops with leggings, jeans and cashmere. Even in winter, I’ll wrap giant shawls doubled up around me and wear bright colours together.

I might adapt something from the collection if I need something exclusive, like a velvet dress I recently embellished with extra sequins for a special evening outfit.

I like to stand out, my clothes are not defined by age, more about a spirit of adventure and wanting something a bit more individual.

Both Elodie, my daughter, and I often wear the same things. My tunic and kaftan shapes are all forgiving, so women of any shape can enjoy wearing them. If asked for fashion advice I will always suggest colour, more colour, it’s flattering at any age. I am definitely not a beige person in any way! n julietdunn.com

Top left: Juliet Dunn, creative director and brand founder.

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BEACH babes PICTURES SAMMY BAXTER STYLING REBECCA WEEF SMITH MAKE-UP ARTIST PARIS 62 | GOLDIE magazine

Alie Gold turban with attached earings – Julia Clancey Black and gold vintage swimsuit – Flamingo, Palma Evon Pink and gold dress – Julia Clancey Pink vintage hat – British Red Cross

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Alie White with gold studs halter swimsuit – @BAHRIshop Vintage Sunglasses – British Red Cross Bag – stylist’s own Shoes – model’s Own Evon White with gold studs bikini– @BAHRIshop Vintage Sunglasses – British Red Cross Bag – stylist’s own Shoes – model’s Own GOLDIE magazine | 65

Alie Peach viantage bikini – Flamingo, Palma Peach hat – Brtish Red Cross Multi coloured towelling lined cape – Julia Clancey Evon Black Swimsuit – Collectif Pearls – stylist’s own Shoes – model’s own

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Alie White halter neck swimsuit – @BAHRIshop Black vintage hat – British Red Cross Evon Pink and gold dress – Julia Clancey

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Alie Green Swimsuit– Collectif Tortoise shell and gold choker – stylist’s own Gold Bracelet – National Portait Gallery shop Sunglasses - don’t BUY it DIY it Shoes – model’s Own Evon Green Bikini – Collectif Sunglasses – don’t BUY it DIY it Shoes – model’s Own 70 | GOLDIE magazine

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Alie Gold turban with attached earings – Julia Clancey Evon White bikini and cape – @BAHRIshop GOLDIE magazine | 73

Don’t BUY it DIY it

Make it tonight to wear tomorrow. Recreate our coverworthy sunglasses with a dab of glue and decorative gem embellishments

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You will need: Black sunglasses Large black frames, you probably have some already Super Glue Ivory Adhesive Pearls from Hobbycraft Tortoiseshell sunglasses Large Tortoiseshell frames, from the bottom drawer Super Glue Gold and Silver Adhesive Gems from Hobbycraft Method Weef’s way: Think about the design you want to create.

Mark even spaces around the frames.

Dab a spot of super glue on to a mark.

Place gems or pearls in place with tweezers.

Move on to next mark until complete.

Rebecca’s way: Randomly stick pearls and gems all over the frames until you like the effect using the pre-adhesived embellishment’s in the hope that they don’t fall off on first wearing.

Carry super glue with you at all times just in case.

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GOLDIE LO♥ES LO♥E Royal Academy Summer Exhibition This year, acclaimed British painter Jock McFadyen, RA, has coordinated the 251st Summer Exhibition and we rather liked it. Over 1,500 works are on display, most of them for the first time, including an animal-themed ‘menagerie’ in the Central Hall with a Tunnock’s wrapped ‘Easy Tiger’ by David Mach. Weef was super impressed that any artist was dedicated enough to eat that much chocolate. Many of the works on show prompted us to contemplate whether art should be dealing with the challenge facing the planet; there are a fair few works with an eco-spirit across all the rooms, but the idea is most obvious in the room curated by architect Spencer de Grey, RA, which focuses on sustainability and asks if it is possible for architects to balance creativity and experimentation and achieve a zero-sum impact on the world’s environment.

Politics gets a look in too with a Banksy in Central Hall: shutters telling arrivals from the EU to keep out, whilst a rat makes a futile attempt to smash the lock, and a Jeremy Deller banner hanging from the ceiling in a nearby gallery declaring that ‘we’re all immigrant scum’.

You don’t have to leave with a renewed sense of activism though you can just enjoy the visual impact of the art!

At the Royal Academy, London, until 12 August 2019

♥

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LO♥E Mathew Williamson at Bconnected Palma These recent additions to Santa Catalina in Palma sees Mathew Williamson combine forces with Christine Leja of Bconnected to showcase his interior design work. From small pieces like petal-shaped tea cups and luxury ceramic candles that you could (carefully) transport home, to larger statement pieces (think embellished cabinets, cushions and art), there is plenty of inspiration here even if you’re strictly handluggage only. And no luggage restrictions are an excuse not to purchase Mathew’s pretty greeting cards.

♥

LO♥E Artisan du Chocolat Blessed with Obsessive Chocolate Dedication, Artisan founder Anne Weyns-Papaleo breathes and lives chocolate. Her sweet infatuation breeds a constant stream of ideas grounded on passion and creativity.

All the chocolates are made in Kent using traditional craftsmanship with technical advances. All the ingredients are ethically sourced, which is great as we don’t want to feel guilty about eating so much Artisan du Chocolate.

They rather helpfully do same day London delivery which is probably makes indulging in these luxury British chocolates a bit too easy.

♥

LO♥E Nix and Kix Since January I have been alcohol free and on the hunt for soft drinks that aren’t sugar laden or boring. For too long, soft drinks have been an ugly sister to alcohol; there’s been a lack of imagination, a lack of experimentation and a lack of passion. Discovering Nix and Kix has made my life much more interesting.

All the drinks are packed with exceptional flavour and a host of chilli-driven benefits, my current favourite is watermelon & hibiscus, mainly because its pink, but I’m very partial to blood orange & turmeric as well.

♥

LO♥E Hobby craft tie dye kits I love any chance to play with dyes. Give me a vat of indigo and I’m happy as Larry but it is a tad messy and I need a dry day to indulge my whims in the garden or I drip all over the flat. Luckily there are some clever kits available from Hobbycraft which makes it much less likely that you will end up with a tie-dye kitchen floor when what you were after was a Tee shirt to wear clubbing.

Sustainable fashion with a fresh from the catwalk feel.

♥

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THE NEW SEEKERS ...we are all searching for something

PHOTOGRAPHS BY MARISSA CHARLES STYLIST SAMSON SOBOYE MAKEUP ARTIST BRYANNA ANGEL ALLEN HAIR DESIGNER JOSEPH KONIAK HAIR ASSISTANT DANIJELA FARRELL 78 | GOLDIE magazine

Kimberley Swarovski encrusted dress with ruffle details – Notable Woman Monochrome beaded choker – Caron Goldman Rings - model’s own Silver shoes – stylists own Eliot Vlisco print suit – SOBOYE Shirt - Concours D’Elegance Woven shoes – Jesu Segun London All jewellery – model’s own

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Kimberley Silk blouse with print collar & Capri trousers – SOBOYE Earrings – Oasis Shoes & jewellery – model’s own Eliot Shirt & trousers – Ethnicity Clothing Shoes & jewellery – model’s own

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Kimberley Printed ruffled sleeved blouse – ATM Collectionz Grey trousers – SOBOYE Eliot Sequinned lace top with print trim – SOBOYE Tiger print trousers – SOBOYE

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Kimberley Leaf print dress with Swarovski – Notable Woman Shoes – New Look Shoulder bag with multi crystal front – stylist’s own Sunglasses – SOBOYE Eliot Shirt & jacket – SOBOYE Trousers – Richard James Shoes – Jesu Segun Sunglasses – SOBOYE Jewellery – model’s own

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“Haven’t I seen you somewhere before?”

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Kimberley Silk blouse – SOBOYE Yellow skirt – QL2 Shoes – New Look Beaded earrings – Caron Goldman Necklace – model’s Own Eliot Cobalt blue suit – Richard James Polka dot shirt – SOBOYE Pocket square – Bwana Willy Glasses & jewellery – model’s own

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Kimberley Jacket with reversible sequinned bell sleeves & print pencil skirt – SOBOYE Polka dot reversible top – Bwana Will Earrings & clutch – Soray Couture Shoes & jewellery - model’s own Eliot Denim ‘Samurai’ jacket - Bwana Will White T-shirt - SOBOYE Trousers, shoes & lewellery - model’s own

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Kimberley Corset – Colour Therapy by Angela Mills Printed maxi skirt – Bwana Willy Necklace & earrings – Heiter by Mia Krstic Eliot Printed jacket & matching shirt – SOBOYE Trousers & shoes – model’s own

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Kimberley Gold/white reversible requinned dress – SOBOYE Leather rope harness – Doyenne London Earrings – Heiter by Mia Krstic Eliot Wool polka dot suit & white shirt – Mr. Start Tie – stylist’s own Shoes & jewellery – model’s own SamsonSoboye@MandyCoakley.co.uk

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THE SCENE LONDON: Istituto Marangoni A NEW ERA: The ten best talents of the year showcased their collections – personal reflections on the future between fashion, technology and the environment.

Can we create intergenerational synergy with fashion?

Images: Gerald Wilhelm

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THE SCENE PARIS: fifty et alors?

17th June 2019 Paris knows how to throw a great party at any age Images: Laurent Lo

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THE SCENE LONDON: London Fashion Week Mens - not sure what we think?

Images: Gerald Wilhelm and Sammy Baxter

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THE SCENE LONDON: The Extinction Rebellion crowd are such great style inspirations Images: Richard Kaby

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Ageing’s an art best embraced with creativity

I’VE

arrived at the midlife equivalent of an AA meeting, where I stand up and announce: “Hello, my name is Amanda, I am 44 and I am menopausal”. At this point, it is safe to say a round of applause is necessary because it takes some bloody prowess to endure this beast, let me tell you. Aside from being on the spectrum at the best of times, there’s a whole new level of mental and emotional mind-fuckery that will have you frequently questioning your own sanity. However, not all is lost, you become gifted with an increased lack of tolerance for day-to-day bullshit.

On the worst scale, you are hit square in the face with horrifically low days and days when “I can’t be arsed to get up or leave the house today because I am battling the blackest of moods and most illogical of anxieties”. Of course, there are many other symptoms, such as brain fog, fatigue, hot flushes, insomnia, night sweats, cramping, bloating, tenderness, dryness, libido loss, weight gain and apathy, to name but a few. The best we can do is to console ourselves that this is transient. It too AMANDA CHAPMAN-BRUCE shall pass (and I for one will be giving the bastard menopause a huge kick in the arse as it saunters I’ve been a textile designer for years creating print, pattern and graphics for home and fashion. past me).

As Mother Nature persists in brazenly and I wanted to make a statement and designing some utterly taking the piss out of my body, I refuse logo-based Tees seemed the obvious answer. to simply spectate as my youth gradually melts They have such an instant impact, and although away before my very eyes. While I am unable to there are plenty of Tees around of similar ilk, this effect the toll of gravity or wear and tear on my is MY voice, MY process and me giving MYself person, I can sure as hell embrace the fact that I permission to age.

Perhaps I’m just a frustrated creative... too am an evolving piece of art, forever changing and many outlets and not enough focus. I have many forever growing.

It is here that I need to remind myself that my proverbial fingers in many pies and my mind body has served me pretty well all these years, refuses to sit still...

Speaking of ants in my pants, I also appear to and for that, I’m not about to give up on it, nor shame it just because I’m the wrong side of 40. be suffering a menopause-induced career crisis, I’ve wobbly bits, wrinkles, laughter lines, a re-evaluating much with no real conclusion. To deep-set crease in my forehead as a result of be completely honest, I’ve no idea where I’m at or all the times my face exclaims “WTF”. Add to what I’m doing. No idea how I got here, nor how this the beginnings of a grombre, lacklustre skin I’m getting out. I’ve tried on a few hats that have and I’m all set. That aside, I’m trying to take been thrown back in the pile, and have another care of myself by embracing the “everything in stack to get through. But hey that’s OK - it will all moderation” approach and by being less unkind come out in the wash right?

This interval is made somewhat more bearable to myself.

In essence, nothing has really changed, other by the many badass Trailblazers and Amazers than the reluctant acceptance of the inevitable. I follow on Instagram, whom massively help I will continue to adorn with attitude, part in to inspire, empower and delight. I feel lucky to celebration and part in protest. In balance, I will be surrounded by such positivity and increased also allow myself to resort to my scrappy old awareness and owe a massive debt to my longjeans and the biggest jumper I can find on the bad suffering mother who patiently regularly endures days. The attitude remains firmly there, even if my onslaught of existential crises.

Ageing might take a while to get used to, but it is buried under a layer of distressed denim and as they say, being older sure is better than being comfy knit.

So what’s the purpose of this brief rambling? dead. n

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DIANA FRANCES

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Age barriers are so last season Jacynth Bassett, founder of online fashion store The_Bias_Cut.com, may be too young to be old but that hasn’t stopped her being interested in ageism or enjoying friendships with those more than twice her age

“But

you’re young! Why bother about ageism – just enjoy being in your 20s!”

Not exactly the words of encouragement you want to hear from a family friend (themselves a baby boomer) when you tell them about the mission you’ve dedicated the last 5 years to... And yet, they didn’t entirely come as a surprise; I’d heard similar before.

Some people believe that ageism should only concern and be addressed by those directly affected by it. One rationale is that younger people can never relate, or that they should be appreciating life, not finding more issues with it.

Either way, what this boils down to, is that I shouldn’t give ageism another thought for another two or three decades. But that line of thinking leads to dangerous territory; that it’s OK to ignore any form of prejudice just because you’re not a victim of it.

Which just encourages further segregation, misunderstanding and bias. (side note: the

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Jacynth on the beach with her new LA friends

technical definition of ageism is prejudice in relation to age – not just old age.)

If a man were to declare he didn’t care about women’s rights, or a Caucasian person were to dismiss racial issues, there would be a huge backlash. We collectively know that unity is integral to fight prejudice, so why is ageism any different? Unfortunately it’s the last form of discrimination that dare speak its name, so we’re more accepting of it. But as any other form of discrimination, we need to be calling out ageism for what it is.

I first became aware of ageism when I witnessed my mum being treated as invisible or irrelevant by the fashion industry, largely due to her age. We’d go into shops and she’d be dismissed or even scoffed at, whist online she’d struggle to find pieces she’d love to buy as everything was modelled by younger women. Lots of other women told me of similar experiences. In one instance – a public event celebrating style and beauty hosted by one of the world’s leading fashion magazines – a lady in her 60s told me a member of staff asked, “why are you here?

This isn’t for you.”

I’m a firm believer that education is the key to changing attitudes and ending discrimination and the earlier that begins the better. Ageism itself may be too complex to engage with at a young age but we can still change the narrative around ageing. For example, in the US there’s a school tradition that on the 100th day of the school year, children dress as 100-year-olds and Wikihow advises wearing ‘roses, chintz and other small floral prints’, ‘drab and dull hues’, and to avoid anything ‘trendy’. If, as adults, this is the narrative we’re telling children being older looks like, no wonder stereotypes and a fear of ageing continues to exist.

And we need to continue to educate ourselves too – which needs us to connect and mix intergenerationally – otherwise we’ll just continue to follow and believe society’s offensive stereotypes, such as millennials are entitled and lazy, and baby boomers are out of touch and have destroyed the economy. It’s only through intergenerational communication that we can dispel these typecasts, understand our differences and actually realise we have a lot more in common than we might think.

But mixing across generations isn’t just good for ending ageism; there is so much to personally gain at any age when you connect across generations. And I can speak from

first-hand experience. Because, through my work, I’ve made so many incredible friends of all different ages and my life has become so much richer for it.

I’ll be honest with you, 10 years ago I’d have thought the idea of having boozy nights out with people more than twice my age (who weren’t family) was weird. But, today I think nothing of it, to the extent that the age of those I’m socialising with doesn’t even cross my mind. Some are my age, some are younger, some are older. It makes absolutely no difference.

A

t the beginning of June I flew out to LA for holiday but took the opportunity to meet up with some friends I’d made online through a group called Forever Fierce – dedicated to celebrating and empowering women in midlife and beyond. I’d first connected with the founder of the group Catherine Grace O’Connell a couple of years ago and, in full knowledge of my age, she instantly welcomed me into her group with open arms. There were some members of the group who were less enthusiastic, believing the group should be exclusively for those over 40. But after some discussion, it was appreciated that, as long as we had shared values and interests in supporting the group, why did the age of the members matter?

Hugely passionate about championing intergenerational communication, Catherine has since gone on to create the ‘Bridging The Gap’ campaign, which paired a millennial blogger with a ‘midlife’ blogger, to connect and share each other’s stories – which has subsequently led to more friendships and greater understanding and appreciation between generations. And when I attended Catherine’s beach and dinner party in LA recently, no one even batted an eyelid that I was 30 years younger than everyone else. We all laughed, goofed around in the sand, drank wine, and shared stories.

I’m not saying age is completely irrelevant and that you shouldn’t mix with your peers, but when you’re finding your ‘tribe’ look beyond your own demographic. Not just in the name of ageism, but for personal joy – because values, interests and attitudes have much more depth than a number.

So to that woman who questioned my mission: you’ll be pleased to know I am enjoying my 20s – that’s largely thanks to my interest in ageism, not in spite of it. n GOLDIE magazine | 107

SAMMY BAXTER

THE POWDER ROOM

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Get Lippie with me

Are you bold enough to add bright lips to your day at the beach? Discover how to create the Beach Babe look

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THE POWDER ROOM

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Get Lippie with me

all me boring if you like, but I’m not very adventurous when it comes to make-up; I really just do tinted moisture, mascara and lips... always bright lips. Nothing can go wrong when my day involves red lipstick. Or even fuschia and, on occasion, orange.

And I am not a slick-of-tinted-gloss-fan, it’s full-on-deep-pigment-bold-intense-lastall-day-colour that floats my boat. I wake up and do red lips even before I clean my teeth some days. And if I’m working at home in my pyjamas then lipstick reminds me I am ‘The Editor’ – I’m inclined to forget and think I’m the laundry mistress and chief toilet cleaner.

Suffice to say strong lips make me feel better whatever else is going on. For our Beach Babe editorial we wanted to recreate the kind of full on colour make-up reminiscent of a Vogue shoot from the 70s,

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but we were doing the make-up in the public toilets on Bournemouth Beach and the wind was whipping it off as fast as the MUA Paris could apply it.

Luckily Paris had come armed with NYX products and I’m now a total convert. NYX is a great price and available at Superdrug; the pigments are really intense but you can easily play around and go subtle or full on bold. I’ve been experimenting with the eye palette, applying the colour with my fingers and I love the smudgy-slept-in-look I’ve been getting. The white base makes the colours pop even more for a proper tropical zing.

Now you may think that bright eyes and lips shouldn’t be seen together, or who would wear make-up with a bikini, or even, that’s lovely but I’m too old for it...

I would say, for the sake of a wellbeing hit worth its weight in Gold, give this look a go.¢

These are the products we used at the beach: NYX Professional Makeup Eye Shadow Base White £6.00 NYX Professional Makeup Ultimate Neon Eyeshadow Palette £16.00 NYX Professional Makeup Off Tropic Liner Pool Boy £5.50 NYX Professional Makeup Off Tropic Liner So Fresh £ 5.50 NYX Professional Makeup lip primer Nude £6.50 NYX Professional Makeup soft matte lip cream in Morocco £6.00 NYX Professional Makeup Electro lights Matte lip cream in Atlanta £6.00 NYX Professional Makeup Liquid Suede Lipstick Kitten Heels £7.00 NYX Professional Makeup Powder Puff Lippie Boys Tears £8.00 All products available from Superdrug

CUTTIN’ EDGE

Waxing lyrical and smelling sweet

T

Sartorial advice from Rohan Spencer

he British Summer, which officially arrived on Sunday 31st March, was formally greeted by men with a childlike glee.

She can be a very harsh mistress, her temperamental nature allowing one to romanticise about summers past and the associated good times had.

And so, we are conditioned from our formative years to obey her sporadic moods, often expressed by a bit of wind here, a few spots of rain there and, if we’re lucky, the odd ray of sunshine.

Now there’s no right or wrong when it comes to getting ready for the summer, but here’s a breakdown of my favourite tips for stepping out in style - and avoiding a fashion disaster.

Good grooming is necessary for every man, the essential oil that lubricates the ego; allowing him to navigate his way through the summer. A bigger array of outfit combos awaits the well-groomed gentleman, who can wear as little or as much as he likes.

As we are available in a variety of shapes and sizes, men will be found sporting physiques ranging from Daniel Craig to Mr Blobby and, as he may not yet have boarded the much-ballyhooed vegan band-wagon, Mr Average esquire may be reliant upon a steady diet of boozy weekends and fast-food dinners. Help is at hand for him though, for if he looks good and smells good, he can utilise those natural pheromones and

well-kept skin to good effect in the summer.

Body-hair waxing, manicures, pedicures and facial cleansing are all useful tools in maintaining a healthy look and feel this summer.

Now I’m not saying that body hair by itself is a cause of bad body odour, but many men report smelling better after they shave their body hair as they feel it makes them sweat less and, as such, smell more appealing.

As far as beauty treatments go, they’re more important than you’d think. Removing the impurities on the face should ensure a healthy look outside and in, while improving circulation to rejuvenate tired skin. This is as true for hands and feet as it is for the face. Regular manicures and pedicures should also put an end to torn socks, scratched partners and the appealing looks from birds of prey admiring your talons! On average once every two to three weeks for a manicure and once a month for a pedicure, will result in your tips and toes looking groomed at all times.

So, as the Fresh Prince’s summertime anthem plays over your mental slideshow, picture oneself beach-ready with a sharp haircut, smelling good, shirt unbuttoned, a cool pair of sandals and shades holding that drink in just the right way so as to show off those pruned fingernails...

You are ready for battle.n Smoddysharp of London, 33 Dartmouth Road, SE23 3HN. smoddysharp.co.uk GOLDIE magazine | 111

THE ANARCHO-DANDY

Life’s a bike Jämes Rïgby starts off as an uneasy rider and speeds down the highway towards becoming a ton-up boy

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hat’s your next goal?” said the recruitment consultant.

We were having a coffee in Starbucks and he wanted to find out whether I’d be up for jumping ship from my current role or, if not, whether I was planning to recruit anyone. I’ve worked in cybersecurity for over 20 years. I replied that, in my mid-fifties, I have run out of work-related goals, other than just staying in work. And only then because it’s necessary to pays the bills. All my important goals are now outside work.

Being a young dynamic professional, he didn’t understand this, I think. I wouldn’t have understood at his age either. I said my goals were things such as continuing to write for this magazine, maybe doing a bit of modelling and finding time to do all the other things I’ve always wanted to do but haven’t, because I’ve never seemed to have had the time.

One of those things I’ve always wanted to do is take to the open road on a motorbike: cruise from St Louis to Joplin, Missouri, then Oklahoma City which is apparently oh so pretty. Then there’s racing down to Brighton on a bank holiday, cruising the Scottish Highlands, or bombing down to the South of France. The challenge is that, as of the start of April this year, I’d never so much as sat on a moving motorbike.

It goes back to my 16th birthday. I went to the Wood Green Odeon with a few friends, and then to Dayvilles ice cream parlour to sample some of its 32 “Flavors”. We ended up back at the flat where I lived with my mum and my sister.

After my friends left, the conversation turned to all the things I could now legally do.

We’d been joined by the neighbours from the flat opposite who were both with the police and therefore had specialist knowledge in this area: buy cigarettes, have alcohol in a pub with a meal, and have sex (the heterosexual variety only) and join the army.

“And get a moped!” I said. “And then when

I’m 17 I can get a 250cc motorbike and you don’t even need to take a test!” (The laws have since changed.)

I was advised both by my mum and the coppers that all this was an incredibly bad idea. “You’ve nowhere to keep it”, “It’ll get stolen,” and “you’ll skid on a line in the road or some wet leaves and end up dead under a bus.”

A compromise, of sorts, was reached. If I didn’t get a moped, my mum would give me a car when I passed my driving test.

Eighteen months later, my mum gave me her old Morris Marina 1.3L and my two-wheeled dreams were put aside – until nearly 40 years later.

My girlfriend and I have been together for just under two years, and we discovered that we each harboured a long-standing ambition to go touring on motorbikes. She would be the leather-clad Harley rider, and I’d be the jacketed ton-up boy on my café racer. So we decided to do it.

We paid for a taster lesson – riding around a school playground for three hours on Yamaha 125cc bikes and not even getting out of first gear. No one fell off. I did sneak into second gear at one point, having looked up how to go about it on the internet. Two weeks after that, we were back in the same playground taking our “compulsory basic training”.

By this time, my girlfriend had already bought a motorbike and most of the essential safety kit. Four days later, I’d bought a motorbike too, although I’d only had time to buy a helmet, or “lid” as we bikers say, and not the rest of the gear.

I should have made the time because driving the two miles home from the guy I bought the bike from “I got the wrong line” at a roundabout due to “going in too hot” (fast) and “hit the pavement” (came off) in a “washout”. Ripped up jeans, ripped up knee, “road rash” down my calf, scraped knuckles and injured pride.

With help from my girlfriend, who was in her car ahead of me, two passers-by, and the police who (un)luckily happened to be there,

“Who’s that cheeky sod who’s driven their motorbike up our drive?”

the bike was righted and they all made sure I had control of my faculties and didn’t need an ambulance.

The whole start to this project, including the bike, the lid, the protective gear, the training, the insurance, the road tax, the Savlon, bandages and ripped jeans has cost me less than £1,000. Like all proper bikers, I’ve also bought a large set of spanners, sockets and other shiny metal tools for “modding” and “chopping” the bike, as we bikers are wont to do.

My girlfriend and I won’t be riding Route 66 on our current bikes. We have a plan.

We’ll ride around on our little bikes with our L-plates for a few months, then have some lessons on big bikes, pass our big bike tests, and then trade in our Chinese-made, onecylinder bikes for some proper big bikes. A Harley-Davidson 883 Iron for her, a Triumph T100 for me.

My mum hasn’t changed. On the first trip out after the fall, I rode the mile-and-ahalf to her house and pulled up on her drive unannounced. She was tending the garden.

“Who’s that cheeky sod who’s driven their motorbike up our drive?” she said to her husband. I took off the helmet, and swished my hair and smiled the way that biker girls do in films. We had a cup of tea. She’s not a happy woman. She doesn’t want to know about my motorbike escapades as she’ll worry. My girlfriend’s sister has said the same.

Yes, we might die. No, actually, we definitely will die. “Life’s a Beach, Then You Die” is an apposite phrase here, especially as it’s the title of a mystery novel about a fellow computer security expert.

When we die, it might be on our motorbikes, but it might be something else.

We’re not reckless youths any more with no concept of our mortality; we’ll be sensible.

Hopefully, I’ll die of something other than sliding under a bus having skidded on a white line in the road or some wet leaves. Ideally, I’ll be shot though the heart at the age of 100 by a jealous love rival. n GOLDIE magazine | 113

GREY MATTERS

I NAKED THE

TRUTH She may miss her once firm shelf-like bum, but baring all has given Gill Manley a lift that no surgeon could ever achieve

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first sat for an artist when I was eight. I hated it. That scrupulous intensity of a set of eyes examining my every blink, contour and blemish. Yes, at eight I was already judging the minute details such as scars, freckles, size of my big toe, hairs on my arms, shelf-like bum. The internal critic validated by my parents’ constant reference to my shortcomings. The hair on my upper lip, short legs and long body a constant source of commentary.

There the story is firmly set for the future. Right there.

At 16, I went to work for a local artist at the bottom of our road who had an antiques shop. I walked in one sunny afternoon to inquire if they were looking for a Saturday Girl. Yes, came the reply, immediately followed by, “I would like you to sit for me”. Little did I know that at the back of the rambling garden filled with spiral staircases and rockeries, rusted garden furniture and a painted gypsy caravan, sat a studio. I posed in a chair, fully clothed and melting from the external heat and the closed stuffy studio where no curtained window was open.

A larger-than-life man with a white beard picked up a pad and began sketching me. His open gaze not betraying any feelings he may have had. The blood rose to my face, fuelled by embarrassment and the dislike of being scrutinised.

“Do you like being sketched?”

“No, I don’t feel worthy” He never asked me to sit for him again... until I was in my early twenties.

I learnt later that a stream of girls and young women attended regularly to pose nude for him. A stash of pornography filled the drawers of his studio. Well-known photographers would come once in a while and snap these nymphs. Some went on to become professional models. I refuse to reveal who any of these people were.

I worked and lived in a world where physical beauty was extremely important. As a young actress, I was under constant pressure to be thin, as thin as can be. It never happened. The eating disorders had already begun as a teenager; for my part, overeating in secret to compensate for a parent with anorexia. Unsolicited dietary advice poured from every social and familial source, mostly ignored, but occasionally engaged with. I hated my body with a vengeance.

Skip forward to July 21, 2015, when at 24 stone I underwent gastric bypass surgery, literally to save my life. Not a cure, but a tool to control eating and phenomenal weight loss; 13 stone fell off in the space of 12 months. I blamed my fat for not being able to be loved. In part this was probably not far from the truth. After all, how many people “Skin being genuinely want to be seen with, or elastic, once have a romantic relationship with, a woman three times her normal stretched for a size? Not many, I can assure you. Being naked was never an long period of option either in private or public. time won’t My surgeon was the only person who would see the reality of this ping back” morbidly obese woman and oddly I never felt judged by him. He was there on a practical level to assess how he could help a woman dying of overweight.

Of course, the reality of losing that much weight in a short space of time, and in my mid-fifties, proved liberating on the one hand. However, skin being elastic, once stretched for a long period of time won’t ping

back. I looked in the mirror and saw the body of a 90-yearold. Sagging skin everywhere.

The once firm shelf-like bum gone, I actually missed it! Now, a cosmetic surgeon would take one look at me and propose a full body lift, arm lift and possibly a face lift too. This all would come at a hefty price, none of which I could ever afford.

Losing weight was fun when it was this successful and with it came the rewards. Buying clothes I longed to wear, expressing my creative colourful inner core visually with fabric, head gear (a by-product of losing most of my hair after surgery), developing a personal style in which I felt unbelievably confident. My world had expanded into something I never imagined. I loved to be looked at and enjoyed the appreciative comments.

But what of the secret that dressing belied? I chose to explore this by writing a play. I wanted to show the world the reality of massive weight loss. My journey to this moment has been fraught with internal agony and mental struggles. Finally though, I was ready to bare all, which I did. At 58 I stripped down to a pair of knickers in a theatre in Croydon.

How did it feel, you may ask? It felt amazing . . .

I was proud to show the body of a 58-year-old that has served me well under appalling mistreatment. Bravery comes in many formats and it’s not a word I have ever felt applied to me. A word allied with acts of courage in the face of difficult circumstances. Nevertheless, it has been used many times over since my performance. The courage to stand naked in a small, intimate setting of strangers and friends and say here is my reality, take it or leave it.

I no longer hate my body, I love it for all its quirks, and am grateful to still be living in it. ¢ GOLDIE magazine | 115

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Haggify me - go on do your best!

W

hilst attempting to think of an approving word to describe older women, Suzi Warren realised that the judgemental terms that have been used for hundreds of years to marginalise us – Hag, Crone, Mutton, Harridan, Witch, Old Bag, Bint, Battle Axe, Frump – were still widespread. Where are the terms to celebrate women’s wealth of experience, wisdom and tenacity? Suzi’s answer was to reclaim the verbiage that projects shame on those of us of a certain age and turn them on their head – the words that is not the women.

Suzi thinks the solution to preventing negative connotations of words is to change the implications; “make them playful; make them funny; make them glorious and sexy and own them so they can never degrade us again.”

The haggify concept not only reinvents these pejorative words but enables women to review their neglected-pushed-to-theback-of-the-wardrobe-garments and recycle them, whilst reclaiming the right to be seen.

One proud Haggify wearing lady referred to her image becoming ‘Hag of The Day’ on the TwistedTwee Facebook Group as ‘her day of glory’ and wrote, ‘it’s like being part of some awesome super-group, isn’t it?

Win win all round then. Sustainable fashion with a twist of therapy on the side.

To find out more about Haggify opportunities visit TwistedTwee.co.uk.

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INVISIBLE Clare – a lot of the time I feel that I am invisible at work – In the film industry everyone seems young and they barely seem to recognise that I exist. The word really speaks to me.

I’m going to wear this to work and I hope someone notices, but who knows. If one of the girls notice I may explain why I am wearing it and I may have to scratch out the IN! I don’t think I’m alone in this feeling of invisibility – I know this is a common sentiment in women over 50. I think this is across all of society at the moment it’s not related only to the industry I work in.

HARRIDAN Dela – I am an often angry older woman who likes to tell people what to do, isn’t that what a harridan is? So I recognise myself in that word. I’m furiously menopausal a lot of the time and there is a lot to be angry about right now – not least the prospect of Boris Johnson as Prime Minister - Brexit, climate change, education, general rudeness, people on scooters. But of course there lots of things to be happy about too, and wearing harridan will spread a few smiles. The word has quite a balanced feel; I want to own that; to reclaim my right to it. We should just shrug of the negative connotations; there is nothing wrong with being bossy. I get shit down. All hail the Harridans.

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CRONE Isabelle – I was in two minds between invisible and crone; we woman of a certain age are all basically invisible aren’t we? But I decided to go with crone as I love the power it yields. There is something so strong about saying it out loud. I am a CRONE – watch this space. I don’t feel my age, I think that I associate myself with much younger women, and I need to be careful not to ignore those women in my own age group, we are all in this together. I hope that when I wear this it is obvious where my allegiance lies.

SEXUALLY ACTIVE Natasha – Are we allowed to be sexually active at our age? Should we use the word STILL to represent the fact that our sexuality hasn’t disappeared because we are this age? Last year I was a bit depressed and I bought this vintage jacket but it was a tad serious for me – the Sexually Active pockets lighten it up, make it less prim.

Does anyone really believe the myth that sexual desire dies?

We are still very vibrant and have so much to offer the world, and ourselves, I’m not going to give up sex just yet. We are sexual beings until the very end;I have no idea if anyone will notice the words; they aren’t obvious unless you see me from a particular angle. I suspect my husband will find it flattering.

MISERY GUTS Tracey – I am simply not a misery guts at all, I am a happy person. But when I do feel upset about something I have caught myself saying don’t be a misery rather than reflect on why I may not be happy. I want to wear this term right over my guts as that’s where this emotional response stems from. There is a definite gender imbalance; men are allowed to be grumpy we aren’t.

I already have crone, hag, and invisible clothes; others laugh at me – it’s a bit of fun, but underlying this is a serious intent to get a message across.

TOO EMOTIONAL Natasha – At work I am deemed too emotional, I hear this and wonder if it would be levied at a man, it’s very gendered – woman aren’t allowed emotions, especially a tall woman wearing bright lipstick. I am a teacher, empathy is part of my day; it’s what makes me a good teacher but it isn’t acceptable in the management part of my job. I will wear the skirt anywhere it looks lovely, I’ll certainly wear it to work and, if I am asked, I will be open about how I feel. I am a very positive person and this statement skirt feels very affirmative, I am making a proclamation about how I feel, and that can only be a good thing.

HAG Zoe – Hag is a super hero word, I love the way it rises up, and it’s got a glamorous ring to it. I’ve always been contrary – only dead fish with swim with the tide – I’m very comfortable standing out. Well, I’m tall and loud so have no choice, I may as well go with it. The older I’ve got the less I care about being noticed. I don’t much care if people think I’m a pain when I change my opinion, or state my mind, which I’m very inclined to do. Like it or not, I’m going to do it my way.

DECREPIT Gill – I look one way, full of life and energy, but inside that is not necessarily the full picture. I have had a few tough years with health issues, getting my PHD, trying to get a job; I have been crumbling inside, but I have pieced me back together.

Decrepit has strength; my life is beginning again post-fifty.

I am slowly rebuilding from the foundations up. The word looks beautiful; at first glance you may not see what it says.

You will have to stop and work it out if you are that curious I may well be inviting people to ask me why I am wearing the word decrepit and then I get to tell my story if I wish to.

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SILVER PSYCHOLOGIST Dr Louise Pendry is a Senior Lecturer in Psychology at the University of Exeter. Over the past 25 years, she has published articles focusing on online communities, stereotyping and prejudice.

Louise is on a mission to embrace age and to get the word out that growing older is more than OK.

Talkin’ ‘bout my generation Louise Pendry is putting into practice the lessons thrown up by research into the benefits of the young and the old spending time with one another

I

ntergenerational contact is the “in thing” and – as both a pro-age activist and psychology lecturer – I’m mighty glad. The recent TV series Old People’s Home for 4-Year-Olds showed that prolonged contact yields gains for both the older members (increased mobility, more positive outlook) and younger members (increases in empathy, linguistic skills, more positive attitudes towards the elderly).

In the Netherlands, Humanitas, the old people’s residence, provides free accommodation for students who commit to spending at least 30 hours a month with their co-residents. The staff get a bit of support and – most importantly – both young and old are positive about the enriching opportunities such exchanges provide. It is a win-win situation.

The generation gap is wider than at any time since the 1960s. Opportunities for meeting people from different age groups are increasingly limited (Pew Research Centre, 2009). The traditional extended family setup, in which several generations live in close proximity, is waning. We are having kids later, too. Writing in TIME magazine, columnist Susannah Schrobsdorff recently coined the phrase “the grandparent deficit”.

Grandchildren are less likely to experience their grandparents as vibrant 60-year-olds but

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more often as frail individuals reliant upon social care. So what can be done? What does psychology tell us about intergenerational contact and how can we incorporate it into our lives?

How it all began The contact hypothesis – when people have positive relationships, especially friendships, that cross generational boundaries, they can create a better understanding of other groups – was proposed by Gordon W. Allport in 1954.

The relationships can also reveal outlooks and interests that the generations may have in common. The model remains influential and there is much research showing that intergroup contact helps to reduce prejudice across a range of groups. Although there is less research focusing on intergenerational contact per se, the signs are good here too.

Reducing prejudice Positive contact may not only reduce prejudice between young and old, it can also act as a buffer for older people in a situation where they believe their age can act against them, such as a test of memory. Often, awareness of this stereotype threat (“I’m an older person doing a test I’ve been told older people typically do badly”) leads to poorer performance on a related task. In one study, Dominic Abrams and colleagues found that

when older participants reported having recently experienced positive contact with younger people, they performed better on a cognitive test. Since the threat is pervasive – stereotypes of age-related decline are endemic – this additional benefit of contact can only be a good thing.

What if contact is not possible?

More recent research has started to look at different types of contact, some of which show – amazingly – that it is possible to bring about reductions in prejudice between groups even when no physical contact occurs. Recent research by Lisbeth Drury and colleagues for example, suggests that if younger people simply know their peers have positive relationships with older people, this might on its own improve their attitudes. An advantage of what is known as extended contact is that it allows individuals to experience vicariously intergroup relationships while avoiding the anxieties and discomfort often associated with direct encounters. It can also give them a chance to prepare for and think about how they might react in a similar situation.

In another study by Lindsay Cameron and Adam Rutland, young children were given stories featuring disabled children. Simply reading about another peer having a positive friendship with a disabled child improved attitudes generally. These “virtual contact”

RICHARD KABY

developments are not a substitute for the real thing of course, but can be helpful where actual contact is limited. They can be easily adapted to focus on other groups, such as refugees, and help to prepare children for the arrival of peers from minority groups into the classroom.

Seeking opportunities Taking inspiration from this approach I have recently finished a draft of a children’s book featuring a girl’s account of her experiences of unwillingly spending time with older people. Her stereotypes are challenged and her outlook gradually shifts. It’s too soon to say whether it will find a publisher but I’m crossing everything and hoping.

I spend my working life surrounded by undergraduates. Intergenerational contact is built into my job description – and yet it is only since I’ve become interested in the ageing topic that I’ve realised what an amazing opportunity this gives me. I want my students to learn about the ageism that surrounds them and to debate how to challenge it. I want them to see that, at 53, their lecturer is all about embracing life and dismantling outdated stereotypes. I’m incorporating more of the psychology around ageing into my teaching too. It’s not all one-way traffic. I learn from them as much as they learn from me.

It’s a tough time to be young.

Recently I was invited to share my thoughts on growing older as a woman on a popular Instagram page (@we.definebeauty).

Set up by two young graduate students, this popular project is trying to disrupt narrowly prescribed views of beauty by “celebrating our unique appearances exactly as they are, not conforming to any standard”. Most posts are by younger people. I wasn’t sure I’d fit the demographic, but agreed to take part, happily celebrating my wrinkles. The response from the predominantly female 18-24 audience was incredible, with many comments suggesting that older role models truly matter. This experience has encouraged me to set up a blog/podcast project with one of my students to encourage women of all

“Grandchildren are less likely to experience their grandparents as vibrant 60-year-olds”

ages to get together and talk about ageing.

The appetite is there.

Mindful of the need to keep students happy, my university cautions us to “make every interaction count”. Positive intergenerational contact is a proven method of reducing prejudice and it’s one we can incorporate into our daily lives. So let’s take every opportunity to talk with, learn from and challenge younger people. Let’s provide them with older role models they can relate to and break down the ageist views that many have passively absorbed. Younger people have much to deal with – climate change, the shifting political landscape, finances – and showing them it’s possible to age healthily with confidence and without fear can help them to cope with the challenge. And at the same time, it could definitely yield tangible benefits for us older folk, too. n Professor Dominic Abrams is from the University of Kent Dr Lindsay Cameron is from the University of Kent Dr Lisbeth Drury is from the Department of Organizational Psychology at Birkbeck, University of London Professor Adam Rutland is from the University of Exeter GOLDIE magazine | 121

LIFE LESSONS

Putting y e s t e r d a y in focus

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Walter Gammie discovers that his snap-happy past has created a present-day headache

etermined to give an old friend from university a 40th birthday present that was really special, I promised him a photograph album of shared days watching cricket and long, entertaining meals at my sister’s restaurant.

More than 20 years later, Geoffrey and I are both retired – we’re at the boundary’s edge even more often – and yet the album has never materialised.

It’s not because of a shortage of subject matter, our joint activities extended to a decade of cycling holidays on the Continent. Rather I was overwhelmed by the scale of the task, defeated by the sheer volume of unorganised prints.

The extent of the problem has become apparent since my wife and I moved from a large house to a smaller one. We had thought that our collection was confined to a couple of boxes – but we have discovered a large chest and an old school truck brimming with albums and loose photographs.

Perhaps the revolution in the way pictures are taken, stored and shared is a good thing. The digital age could be our saviour – but for the fact that I have failed so far to bridge the chasm created by that change. Indeed, I have ceased to be a photographer. When I could no longer buy film, my camera became obsolete. I was warned by my local camera shop of my impending fate. I bought up its (small) remaining stock but now the camera is gathering dust. My coal-fired £3 mobile phone is no surrogate and all I am left with are piles and piles of photographs going back over decades.

The souvenirs of holidays and sports-watching ventures now appear via emails sent by tech savvy friends.

Some have done an excellent job of adapting to change. Colin, for instance, moved seamlessly from displaying prints of his three children in albums (kept in strict chronological sequence on his handsome, home-constructed shelves) to storing photographs on the latest Mac. “The kids used to love looking at the albums,” he says.

“The only problem was that they used take out photographs they liked and leave them lying around. Occasionally they’d tear out pages, which really used to annoy me. Now they never look at them.”

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The pictures he downloads from his phone are kept in clearly dated galleries. It pleases his sense of order. But, he says, “there are too many pictures. So, the one thing you don’t do is clean them out.” Same old problem, different format.

That is an issue. Experiences have to a certain extent been devalued by people using their mobiles to snap anything and everything. Really good pictures are rarely printed out so can be lost in the ether.

This only enhances the appeal of early photographs. My wife returned from a trawl around a house clearance shop one day with a small album of black and white photographs. She believes they were taken either in Ceylon or perhaps Simla and evoke a time and place that reminds her of the years spent by her father in India during the Second World War. “They demand to be researched,” she says.

The hours needed to do that are issue. She has taken up a new career and has little time for anything else. I’m too active to take on the challenge.

Family history is a responsibility that generally falls on the senior generation. I was set a good example by my mother. When poor health restricted her to largely sedentary activities, she made it her duty to create albums of photographs.

These were held by photo corners in big leather-bound volumes with pages protected by delicious, tissuey paper. In her bold handwriting she recorded dates, names and occasions.

My wife’s aunt Peggy was another good role model. She compiled a scrapbook of important family photographs taken since 1890.

These, too, were meticulously captioned. They were taken to a shop and copied on to a disc. That covered a century. But that chapter is effectively closed.

It is better not left too late. Our friend Jean’s father lived into his nineties. She was conscious of the need to tackle the job. “But I kept putting it off,” she says. “There were things to do in his garden and it seemed more important to get him out of the house. By the time I did try to do it, he gave names but would then contradict himself. His mind was no longer up to the task.”

So what is the solution? Ruthlessness is the short answer. And taking advantage of new technology. A blogger who has taken up cricket photography only recently says: “I have a terabyte of photographs on iCloud, 70,000 photographs. I have prints of only four: my favourites that the players have signed and are up on my wall.”

Perhaps I should follow the same principle: keep in print only photographs that are worthy of display. My mother kept a select gallery of family on her dressing table. She was happy to look at them every day. The photographs chosen were the very best.

The rest of our trove in boxes, trunks and chests will almost certainly be regarded as ephemera – destined for landfill when my niece and nephew inherit them. So clear guidelines are in order: one album each of photographs that relate to family history for niece and nephew; scan photographs that my wife and I want to keep. Bin the rest.

It is certainly time for drastic action. So much so that I’m about to acquire a smartphone (a birthday present from my wife). It means that when Geoffrey celebrates his next birthday at the Arundel Cricket Festival with a picnic prepared by my sister, I can send him the images of the happy day even as the shadows lengthen on the outfield.

But there is just one more thing to think about. The boxes of slides of my sister and I as babies. n The author is a retired sports journalist.

LIFE LESSONS

Too young for menopause Lorna Ives had lost her lust for life due to undiagnosed early menopause. Her quest for answers led to an unexpected new career

T

he lightbulb moment occurred around two years ago. It came as a sudden bolt of inspiration to help others going through an early menopause, perimenopause, menopause and post menopause.

PeriMenoPost is my vision born out of personal experience, which women can use as a helpful online tool, a valuable resource of information within a friendly and fun online community.

I chose to study strategic social media with Digital Mums which has helped me to achieve my vision and I have enjoyed every minute of it! It has been tough, a lot of hours and hard work but worth it.

Little did I know that PeriMenoPost was going to come alive! Previously, before studying, my lack of confidence and low selfesteem halted my best laid plans.

I know now that these symptoms were all menopause related and that I desperately needed HRT. I was having an early menopause and had been in perimenopause

fsince the age of 35. It had been one, very long journey.

Upon reflection, my perimenopause symptoms all came to a head six months before my 40th birthday. My forties have consisted of a conveyor belt of medical appointments, scans, tests and tweaking HRT to help me manage my symptoms. I vividly remember pleading with my GP that I needed help, as my quality of life was suffering and I wanted to give my children the best that I could offer as I was still young.

“You’re too young for menopause – keep a diary.” Those words will haunt me, I had tried all alternative treatments and self-help with exercise, eating well and creating a healthier lifestyle. I had tried all that I could possibly think of but I was alone and frightened of what was happening to my mind and body.

This was the motivation that propelled me to set up PerimenoPost so that other women do not have to go through the same experience that I had endured.

Looking online at that time I found no mention of perimenopause that I could relate to; it was medical based and not informative in the way I needed. There were no support groups in my local area. I resorted to funding treatment to get help privately. I was very fortunate to be in a situation that I was able to provide this for myself. I am grateful to my partner, family and friends who supported me throughout this; they must have been exhausted.

After yet another sleepless night and with no strength to deal with the day ahead, I decided to change my GP. This was to be the best decision I have ever made. I was referred to a local gynaecologist who, whilst discussing my symptoms, casually asked: “Do you think you could be in early menopause?”

Once I knew what I was dealing with it all began to make sense. My body relaxed and I felt wave of emotion from relief to sadness that it was menopause, and anger that this had happened to me at such a young age. (The average age of onset is 51.)

Once the HRT was working, I felt amazing and had so much energy and focus. I needed to update my skill set and return to work; I had a new zest for life, I needed to get my life back and also to enjoy it again!

I took a mums ‘return to work’ workshop and it was through this course that I learned about Digital Mums. I searched online and found that DM’s was offering a social media course that was to start quite soon. So I decided, why not!

I have loved every minute of this course; it has pushed me well and truly out of my comfort zone. I had not been in the workplace for a long time and I was worried; how would I cope with technology, terminology and the pace of learning? I thought I was too old and that the course was going to be full of young women my daughter’s age. I felt I was going to make a mess of it all. I felt ancient, a technophobe and a bag of nerves.

I hardly recognise myself now. I have now taken part in Facebook live, Instagram live and Google hangouts. I’ve launched PeriMenoPost as a company, I write weekly blogs and will shortly tackle podcasts.

Digital Mums, Kathryn Dyer and Nikki Cochrane are fantastic. They are so dynamic and forward thinking, as well as supportive whilst pushing you to try new things. I have learnt new skills, made new friends through the DM Peer group – Queens of the Social Age. It has been a great experience and I wish I had done this so much sooner. Digital Mums is a fantastic course to do if you are looking to retrain. So fellow Menos, Menovists, Menoteers, if you’re undecided about whether to retrain or start a business perhaps my story can help you give it a go. Live your life and enjoy the ride. I definitely will be! ¢ Lorna Ive is a 47 year old mum of 4 children, a wife and a Digital Mum Graduate.

You can find Lorna at Perimenopost.com Facebook @PerimenoPost Instagram @Perimenopost Twitter @PeriMenoPost GOLDIE magazine | 123

THE GOOD LIFE

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he Lone Design Club (LDC) hosts events in London promoting ethical and sustainable designers. Founded in May 2018, they are an antidote to fast fashion, providing a forum for new designers to meet and engage directly with their customers offering the opportunity to buy, and attend workshops and seminars. During the Chelsea Flower Show the LDC held a pop-up in Sloane Street where all the designers taking part tapped into the garden/flower theme, be it organic plant perfumes, floral clothes or rose infused cocktails. Making fabric from plants is not exactly a new idea; after all we have been growing cotton and linen for centuries.

However, with over production of both these crops and the fashion industry being culpable for contributing massive amounts of pollution from petro chemical sourced fabrics like polyester, we have to seek new alternatives if the industry is to survive in a sustainable fashion.

The future of fashion will be grown not sown The evening seminar was hosted by Brooke Roberts-Islam, a radiographer turned textile designer who fronts TECHstyler, a consultancy that collaborates with both fashion brands and technology companies to create innovative ideas and products, along with three designers who work with a sustainable fashion approach. The discussion focused on the problems and gains that have been made in making fabric from plants, posing the question: Adam Davies is a product designer, he began making lampshades and other interior accessories from the abundant seaweed and plastic waste that he found on his local beach in Wales. He now has his own brand Ty Syml creating material from waste barley and mixing it with wood chip to create Mycelium a composite material that is strong, light, water and fire resistant. It grows in grow bags for 5 days and is then ready to use. This in itself saves so much energy and is obviously

Home Grown Fashion Fiona Carter finds inspiration in Chelsea where seeds are being sowed the for the future of sustainable textiles sourced from plants 124 | GOLDIE magazine

a lot faster than growing any crop. Given the properties that Mycelium has, it is a material that lends itself easily for use in construction and interiors rather than fashion and compliments Andrew’s product design background.

Piero d’Angelo is currently studying fashion design at Royal College of Art and is exploring the concept of making fabric from lichens. He has been able to create fibres and then yarn from them. He is investigating not just the aesthetics of plant-based fabrics but more specifically at plant function. He is looking at lichens and their ability to absorb pollutants, particularly carbon dioxide, which is one of the most persistent culprits. He is also exploring the idea of ‘growing your own couture’ where the fabric of the garment has the ability to improve your natural environment by absorbing carbon dioxide and other pollutants. It is an intriguing and perhaps a bizarre concept but it is not that far from reality and could help save the planet.

Ioanna Topouzoglou is a committed vegan. She has been banging the drum to find a suitable sustainable alternative that still provides the same high quality as leather that can co-exist in the luxury market. Leather is an ancient natural material but the use of toxic tanning methods and volatile glues over time has not exactly made it environmentally friendly. Creating a material that replicates all the quality of leather without these has been a long held challenge and still is a way from being completely toxic free. Her brand Mashu makes luxury accessories from recycled polyester and plastic as well as Pinatex which is a leather substitute made from pineapple leaves.

She also takes discarded wood off-cuts from a furniture company that would otherwise be burnt or thrown away and uses this ‘waste’ to make them into fine hand turned handles on her bags.

What are the biggest challenges for creating these new textiles?

These ground breaking innovations do not come without their problems. There is often a disconnect between design and science, trying to bridge this can be difficult as they are taught as two very separate disciplines. The more we learn, the more there needs to be integration between the teaching of science, art, design and technology for real gains to be made.

For Adam it was simple things like having a sterile environment, which was hard to create and maintain. In a designer’s studio, this is not a natural consideration but for a scientist in their laboratory, a sterile environment is a common requirement. Dyes are notoriously toxic and Ioanna has found it difficult to find suitable colours for use with Pinatex to give it a luxury aesthetic. For Piero growing lichens takes a long time and we don’t know yet how long lichen fabrics will last and how resistant they are to wear and tear. All of them had concerns over the disposal of the product at the end of its life as much as the manufacturing and how these varying issue should be handled.

One suggestion was an automatic return of the product to be reused recycled or recreated. Ioanna feels her biggest challenge has been to change the mindset of leather manufacturers in her native Greece, to get them to believe, that this is a viable cost effective and more particularly, sustainable, alternative. It has taken some convincing but slowly she is making progress.

It is a brave new world we are facing in terms of providing sustainable ethical clothes, however this new crop of designers are planting the seeds for long term solutions. In the future we might all have a grow bag alongside our tomatoes growing our next dress. How fabulous would it be if there were a garden at next year’s Chelsea Flower Show where all the plants could contribute to the floral frocks that the brightly dressed visitors love to wear. n

The Fashion for Brexit – let’s hope it’s a passing trend ON A BRIGHT SPRING EVENING, I head to Sunbeam Studios for a Brexit Question Time session hosted and organized

by Tamara Cincik, CEO of non-profit organization Fashion Roundtable. Yes, I can hear your heavy sighs of Brexit fatigue but we all need a sunbeam to brighten up this dark political cloud shrouding us.

The panel of speakers for the evening ranged from academics, lawyers, think-tank advisors and included Katharine Hamnett CBE, sporting her very own ‘Fashion Hates Brexit” T-shirt. Katharine Hamnett launched her brand in 1979 and soon made a name for herself producing provocative slogan t-shirts; her most notorious being the “58% DONT WANT PERISHING” T-shirt in protest of nuclear cruise missiles, which she wore when she met Margaret Thatcher in 1984.

Aside from being an award winning designer, Katharine is fundamentally European, born just after the war to military parents, she lived all over Europe and speaks “French, reasonable Italian and terrible Spanish”. She sees Brexit as threatening to our fashion industry which is interwoven internationally through skills and trade; fashion contributes £32Bn to the UK economy,16 times more than fish (£1.9bn), but with little publicity or headlines to highlight the damage Brexit will inflict.

For 40 years Katharine has been spearheading sustainable practice. In 1989 all Hammnett production was aligned with the Buddhist philosophy of making a living in a way that does no harm to people and the natural world. She only uses organic cotton that is certified by GOTS, Limonta a 100 per cent recycled polyester, and wool sourced from award ethical suppliers; there is full transparency from farm to garment.

Manufacturing is done in Veneto, Italy where traditional skills are preserved and supports the local communities.

In 2016 the brand re-launched and since then her ‘Brexit’ themed T-shirts have been continuing her activist attitude.

Back to Brexit Question Time, Tamara Cincik fended an array of questions; there wasn’t much divide between the panelists as they answered an array of questions from protecting your brand post-Brexit, to rights as a non-UK national and how to raise sustainable standards after leaving Europe.

The realization of how complex and difficult the Brexit issue is with regards to the UK fashion industry was summed up by Dr Simon Usherwood: “leaving the EU is the easy part, it’s the relationship with the EU after that that is going to take years to finalize.”

Or as Katharine put it: ‘We’re Fucked!’.

There’s nothing for it than to go and buy her T-shirt and hope this trend doesn’t become a classic.n Fiona Carter GOLDIE magazine | 125

GREEN PLANET

Martin Preston joins the campaign to save our apiarian friends ‘Bee Cause’ robot drones can’t replace the humble bumble

What’s with t h e

BUZZ ABOUT

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Helen Tandy and Alison Shearer-Knott, “Let’s face it, the bumble bee is a very iconic British thing”

B E E S?

CHESTER AND DISTRICT FRIENDS IF THE EARTH

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must admit to being late to the party when it comes to bees. Sure, I’ve always had a passing interest in bees, watching them flit from flower to flower, seemingly defying the laws of aviation. And if asked to name the different types of bee, well I’d say honeybees and bumble bees. Sounds about right, one for honey, and the other for ... for bumbling about I suppose, collecting pollen and pollinating, yes?

Well, yes in part, bees are indeed excellent pollinators, perfectly adapted for the job, which is just as well since most of the food plants we eat rely on pollination, in the main carried out by bees.

As for the two types of bee, sadly I was a bit off the mark there, seeing as how there are over 20,000 known species of bee globally!

Here in the UK we have recorded more than 250 different species, only one of which is our friend the honeybee. Bumblebees account for some 25 species, and the rest? ... solitary bees. And more on them later.

So, what’s with the buzz about bees? Quite simply, the humble bumble and its buddies are in deep trouble. Bee numbers across the world are in decline, as beekeepers have been noticing for some time now. Greenpeace report a 40 per cent loss of commercial honeybees in the US since 2006, with Europe down by 25 per cent since 1985, and the UK down by a massive 45 per cent since 2010.

And if you want this translating into hard cash, it’s been estimated that the economic value of bees pollinating our crops is around € 265 billion annually, worldwide, so as they say in the US... “You do the math”.

Hard to imagine a world without bees? Not for some. Scientists in the Netherlands have already designed robot bees, mechanical drones capable of artificially pollinating plants. Serious stuff, as in the Netherlands half of the 360 different species of bee are under threat!

Robot bees? What is going on here? The explanation, of course, is the same as for many major population declines in nature: loss of habitat, increased use of pesticides, diseases and the effects of climate change.

Take disease for example, and consider the GOLDIE magazine | 127

u

GREEN PLANET

u plight of US honeybees. It turns out they are vulnerable to the varroa mite, an invasive blood-sucking parasite from Asia. To combat this alien invader, breeders have been artificially inseminating American queens with sperm collected from hardier bee populations across the world. I know what you’re thinking, how do you collect sperm from a bee? Apparently, you squeeze the drone bee, and this brings him to a climax, a full microlitre no less. I don’t recommend you try this at home, don’t want to over-excite our apiarian friends.

Fortunately, environmental campaigners like Greenpeace have been raising awareness of the growing crisis in bee populations, and in the UK none more so than Friends of the Earth. Recently I was out with my local FoE group on a beach clean, part of World Oceans Day... I’ll save that for a future article! I took the opportunity to chat with Helen Tandy and Alison Shearer-Knott, as I wanted to know why they are so passionate about bees.

Helen and Alison: “For ten years now Friends of the Earth has been campaigning about bees and the threats they face. It’s fair to say that at first people didn’t understand what the fuss was about. They didn’t understand that we need bees and other pollinators for producing most of our fruit and vegetables, and these tiny creatures are under threat.

FoE has wanted to protect all pollinators, but the bee was the one that people could most identify with. Let’s face it, the bumble bee is a very iconic British thing.

“We were keen to take the message into schools and youth groups, to give children a wider appreciation of bees, beyond the alltoo-common perception that all bees live in hives and make honey. Once children get it, they will pester their parents until they also get it!”

Helen and Alison are particularly concerned about the potential for Brexit leading to us abandoning EU legislation on pesticides, which could result in a wider use of bee-harming pesticides for crop production. They’d like to see more of us lobbying Government to help ensure that we maintain strict controls on those pesticides which are highly toxic to bees.

I was keen to understand what changes they think each of us can make in our lives to help protect bees.

“Learn to love dandelions and daisies!

In Britain we take pride in our carefully 128 | GOLDIE magazine

“They’d like to see more of us lobbying Government to help ensure that we maintain strict controls on those pesticides which are highly toxic to bees”

mown, weed-free lawns. But bees thrive on wild flowers, and early-flowering dandelions are particularly important to bees, when other food sources are scarce. Think about allowing some of your lawn to grow wild, create a small wildflower meadow in your garden,” they added.

Food for thought. Helen and Alison are now taking this message to our Borough Council, lobbying for a Local Pollination Strategy.

The idea is to encourage the Council to mow grass verges less, and let the dandelions grow.

As well as being good for bees, it has the added advantage of saving money, what with less cutting and clearing up. However, they are quick to recognise that some residents will complain of unkempt verges. And this is where children come into it again.

Helen: “We’re looking to run a competition in local schools, to create roadside information boards that explain why the verge has been left to grow.” Children educating the adults, now where have I heard that before?

I am really impressed with how these two energetic ladies are leading the charge for us all to get on board with the bee cause. ‘Bee Cause’ just happens to be the catchy name of the campaign, and has involved Friends of the Earth working with Chester Zoo, conservationists, farmers, businesses, local authorities, students and community group volunteers, to help reverse bee decline.

So, what can I do, I asked myself? Earlier this year I put my DIY skills to the test and constructed a modest 2 up, 2 down (and as it happens 1 in the middle) bee hotel, and proudly installed this deluxe accommodation on the sunny side of our house.

“If you build it, they will come”, I said, though I was a little disconcerted when for the first few weeks nothing happened. Then one day, as we sat outside basking in the evening sun, we were delighted to see several solitary bees taking up residence. Fascinating to watch them carefully select the right hole, we wondered why they seemed to reject the eBay-purchased bamboo bee tubes in favour of the cheap-and-cheerful scrap wooden blocks I had drilled.

So, we’re underway, albeit in a small way, to try and do our bit for the bees. And on the plus side, at long last I can say that our dandelion-strewn lawn is like that for a reason! Together with the new bee-friendly plants recently potted out, I may soon need to set to work on more bee hotels! n

RICHARD KABY

GOLDIE magazine | 129

GETTING ON

HOW TO INFUSE YOUR LOVE WITH MORE WARMTH

Sue Plumtree discovers that its the simple things that are key to happier, healthier and closer relationships

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I was recently thinking about love.

ctually, I’m always thinking about love, except when I’m planning what to cook for my beloved, Paul. Ok, so that’s a bit of an exaggeration.

Still, we did meet when I decided to start a new U3A (University of the Third Age) group I called ‘Come Lunch With Me’. He was one of the people who called, so food is a particular enjoyment for us – planning it, preparing it, sharing it, savouring it. Sometimes we like to try something new.

But back to my thoughts about love. After all, loving relationships, relationships that are satisfactory, fulfilling and productive are my business and I pride myself on walking the walk. But it’s more than that.

I’m curious about relationships, all kinds of relationships – romantic, social, business. I want to understand what makes us tick, what works and what doesn’t work for us. I like to figure out what we’re really thinking, what we’re really feeling and how this affects us and our relationships.

And I’m particularly curious about Paul – what makes him tick, what matters to him, why he thinks as he does, what is fundamentally important to him, what makes him feel great (apart from me!) And I’m, particularly keen to figure out what it is about us that makes me feel safe and cared for and loved.

Lately, I’ve become intrigued about how our childhood experiences influence our attitudes and beliefs about how relationships work – even today, irrespective of gender and age.

Here’s a personal example: My parents were married 50 years and they absolutely adored each other.

My Mum always wore lipstick and drummed it into me that a woman should always make herself look attractive for her husband.

She also insisted that it’s important to play a little ‘hard to get’ to make sure her husband would never take her for granted.

There was always a lot of affection between them, appreciation and respect. They valued each other.

My Mum regarded my Dad as her hero and he saw her as a loyal and a firm companion however challenging the times – and, believe me, some times were seriously challenging.

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One of the things my Dad would do that stayed with me was leave my Mum little love notes for no reason at all. She stuck them all on a board in the kitchen and would look at them every single day. She knew them all by heart long after my Dad died and long after the ink had run and made the words illegible. My Mum knew she was loved.

I don’t think much has changed since then, not fundamentally, not when it comes to our needs around love. We still need to feel valued, cared for, appreciated. We still need to feel loved, we still need to feel we matter to our beloved.

But I worry that many of the skills, actions, thoughts and behaviours that make the other person feel loved have largely been forgotten.

Far too many of us – including me in my 37 year marriage – start knowing exactly what it takes to feel that wonderful feeling of love only to gradually start refocusing on the things that irritate us about each other. We start to take each other for granted and allow life’s challenges to take the focus away from each other.

But here’s the thing: Actions do speak louder than words – even clichés have some truth in them.

Tender touching, hugging, kissing (the routine and unthinking peck on the cheek when you leave home or come back doesn’t count), doing fun things together, planning fun things for the future, having interesting conversations that can, sometimes, become heated but never judgemental, where different opinions generate curiosity rather than defensiveness.

I just read an article that shows that simply holding hands can stimulate feelings of love. Holding hands, the article explains, not only decreases the stress hormone, cortisol, it also increases the love hormone, oxytocin. First, holding hands decreases cortisol by making the other person feel content and connected. Then it releases serotonin and dopamine, both known to affect anxiety and depression.

This was a huge aha! for me, because when Paul arrives on Fridays we first hold each other as if we’d been apart for years, then we go and sit down, hold hands and share with each other what happened during the week.

And here’s another thing After a few minutes we both feel the stresses from the week falling away and being replaced by a sense of calm and contentment.

That article started me thinking that a huge failing in our education system is that nobody teaches us love skills or even the skills we need to foster positive relationships.

And yet the research is inarguable. We need good relationships to be happy.

The most influential are the studies carried out by Harvard’s Grant and Gluck, which for over 75 years has tracked the physical and emotional well-being of two populations: 456 poor men growing up in Boston from 1939 to 2014 (the Grant Study), and 268 male graduates from Harvard’s classes of 1939-1944 (the Glueck study).

Due to the length of the research period, this has required multiple generations of researchers.

So what was the conclusion?

According to Robert Waldinger, director of the Harvard Study of Adult Development, one thing surpasses all the rest in terms of importance: “The clearest message that we get from this 75-year study is this: Good relationships keep us happier and healthier. Period.”

Isn’t it time we all learn the skills that enable us to build loving and positive relationships?

Here’s a summary of the skills that can transform a flagging romantic relationship: n Touch non-sexually – hold hands, give hugs, put your hand to your partner’s cheek to show affection. n In one of his articles, Prof. John Gottman, the American psychological researcher and clinician who did extensive work over four decades on divorce prediction and marital stability says that kissing is a lost art.

He recommends the six-second kiss where you’re fully present, not when you’re rushing out of the door. n Do fun things together. n Plan new and enjoyable activities together. n Talk to each other, not just about your children or work. n Talk about what matters to both of you. Make sure you keep to positive subjects instead of constant complaints about work, your boss or other people, certainly never about politics! n Talk about why you like or don’t like a film, a book, a video, some event you went to, something you discovered, your views and opinions. n By definition, talking requires listening – real listening, not just waiting for your turn to speak or worse, interrupting and defending your point of view. n Listening without judging, listening with curiosity is a powerful skill. You might learn something new about your partner, however long you’ve been together.

And that’s just the start. Plus, you know what they say, practice makes perfect.

So, start practising!

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PUB TALK

Legs be ’aving you Discard the trousers, bring on the shorts and show them knobbly knees, summer’s here, says Andrew Harvey

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he sun has a knack of revealing the secrets of the trousered leg.

Blokes who, frankly, should know better than to put themselves on show can observe no more than a couple of days of decent temperatures before they’re pulling on their shorts and trying to look beach-bum cool.

This summer has already the makings of a classic with long-range forecasts prophesying endless sunshine amid escalating concern about the effects of global warming. What’s a chap to do? Get yer trousers off, obviously.

With the exception of Carl who has the brown legs of a Caribbean athlete and cut-off Levi’s that hug him tight, the rest of us resemble a cluster of gnarled chickens as we assemble each evening outside the White Swan. It may be a glorious summer but that’s no thanks to the parade of knobbly knees, ancient shorts, uncertain socks and Oxfam footwear.

I confess that I’m one of the chickens. Plenty of wear and tear but pleased to feel the sun and the breeze on bare limbs. Mind you, I’ve taken care not to turn out like last year in the Swedish pair I bought on holiday. “Oh look, he’s got a pair of

“Lawrence of Arabia, he had the right idea with his long white dress,” 132 | GOLDIE magazine

Harris Tweeds,” mocked Steve as I turned up in something more suited to a Scandinavian apple orchard. They had looked rather well-tailored in a Stockholm shop but like exotic bottles of foreign spirits, clearly best left in their original surroundings.

It was Jim, shorts just below the knee, who made an interesting observation. “It’s a funny thing,” he said, “but us lot take stuff off when it’s hot while women cover themselves up.”

Melanie, who lives next door to the pub and who must be at least 70, had just wafted past in flowing dress and silky scarf. “See what I mean,” said Jim towards her elegant rear view.

David, who really didn’t look comfortable in shorts but didn’t want to be the odd trouser out, thought women were lucky. “Look at the fashion this year,” he said. “Seems to me it’s all long dresses for young and old. Nice cool gear while all we can do is choose between clammy trousers or tennis kit.”

“Shame, I do like a woman to show a bit of leg,” said Fat Tony all too predictably while perspiring in tight T-shirt and baggy shorts.

“You ought to get down the beach mate for a bit of ogling, not hang about here on the backstreet Riviera,” chipped in Richard. He is a window cleaner and therefore, like postmen and scaffolders, has licence to parade bare legged all year round. It might be that his habit subliminally encouraged the rest of us.

“What about Lawrence of Arabia, he had the right idea with his long white dress,” said Philip.

“Perfect for a hot camel ride.”

“We could do with more hot pants,” Tony persisted.

Deep down, Jim is probably the least chauvinistic of the group but plays along with being a bit of a geezer. He was pleased he had started a topic that for once didn’t involve recalls of 1970s TV shows or other cultural nostalgia.

“Kids can get away with wearing as little as they like, they’ve got young skin. Wrinklie’s not a good look.”

“You’re just so provincial,” goaded Felix who had swapped his biker leathers for Bermuda beachware. “Why should anyone care if their skin’s not perfect. You don’t have to hide away.

Nobody’s looking at you.”

That made me think of Madonna at Eurovision.

Millions were looking at her. And what did they see? The once flaunted body of pop now in middle age and all covered up from gloves to boots, even an eye-patch.

Sharon emerged to gather up empty glasses and take a cigarette break. Blonde hair worn short, black trousers and a white blouse. One cool grandmother. I did notice that she too was wearing her sleeves long. ¢

WHAT’S YOUR PROBLEM?

Ask Sharon I’m an accredited and registered psychotherapist with over 30 years’ experience. I’m a trainer, spiritual warrior and author of the bestselling book ‘Bounce Back from Depression – The No Nonsense Guide to Recovery.’ However big or small, your

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problem is significant to me; you’ll do me a favour by asking about it. Helping you reclaim some of your power and potential through sorting your problem helps me live my professional purpose out loud. A win-win for us both.

My wife and I had been having difficulties in our relationship which led to sexual intimacy going out the window. She caught me one night looking at an online gay male porn site and went ballistic. She says I’m a pervert and doesn’t want to have anything more to do with me. What can I do to win her back?

he phrase that immediately comes to mind is Oliver Hardy’s, ‘Well here’s another nice mess you’ve gotten me into!’ If nothing else, it’s a case of things going from bad to worse.

You don’t say what the difficulties were that led you and your wife to a sexual polar ice cap. If they were a mismatch in sexual practices, we might be onto something here. But, as I don’t know the nature of your difficulties, it might be dangerous perhaps to follow that line of thought.

But I will as there’s little else to go on!

It’s not unusual for men of all sexual orientations to enjoy looking at men. Or women of all sexual orientations to enjoy looking at women.

If you, dear reader, are shouting at this page, ‘NOT I!’ please note that I said, ‘it’s not unusual.’ That doesn’t mean every man and every woman will enjoy same sex viewing.

Alternatively, you might have become animated because you’re denying an aspect of your sexuality you don’t find acceptable.

What do I know?

Anyhow, writer, I’m curious that your wife caught you out. How dumb do you have to be to let that happen?

YES! You let that happen albeit perhaps unconsciously. Otherwise you’d have been viewing gay porn somewhere safe and far, far away from her gaze.

What message were you trying to send to her?

See what you’ve driven me to? Or… The truth is I prefer men sexually or I am equally attracted to women and men or I’m attracted to all genders and all sexual orientations?

There’s no evidence for the latter. So I’m going to plump for the men and the women and men thing. Why? Because you could have been looking at heterosexual porn and you most certainly weren’t!

Homosexuality is commonly understood as an enduring pattern of emotional, romantic, and/or sexual attractions to people of the same sex.

Respected bisexual activist Robyn Ochs describes bisexuality as the potential “to be attracted, romantically and/or sexually, to people of more than one sex and/or gender, not necessarily at the same time, not necessarily in the same way and not necessarily to the same degree.”

Only you, the writer, can know which of these is more true for you or not. But if you’ve been shocked into the realisation that one of these IS true for you, get help. Like now!

If you’re not heterosexual, part of you wants to win your wife back to keep things as they were; the status quo. At the same time you’re fighting the parts of you that want to be who you really are sexually. That’s painful emotionally and psychologically disruptive.

However, if you’re heterosexual, you’re still in the shit and need help to sort this mess out too.

Your wife says you’re a ‘pervert,’ i.e., involved in any of various means of obtaining sexual gratification that are generally regarded as being abnormal. That’s your wife’s perspective and certainly not by any means substantive fact.

And, as she doesn’t want anything more to do with you, that might be a blessing or a curse depending on your sexual orientation.

If you are heterosexual and want to save your marriage, get help but big time. The difficulties before being caught out need sorting let alone your gay porn watching.

Catching her husband at it would have been a huge shock for her. Yeah, I get that you and she weren’t sexually intimate. But, while you watching heterosexual porn might have upset her, imagine what a blow to her identity it was to find you prefer men. In her eyes that is.

Winning her back might be like trying to climb Everest in one huge jump. Salvaging the relationship in some form, depending on your sexual orientation, is perhaps more realistic.

Alternatively, your wife might well be done! n LGBT Therapy - www.lgbtconsortium. org.uk/directory/pink-therapy For relationship support for everyone - www.relate.org.uk/

While Sharon wishes she could reply to all correspondence, regrettably she’s unable to clone herself.

Issues with the widest appeal will be answered where-ever possible.

The Wild Elder Psychotherapist-Alchemist-Guide. thewildelder.com GOLDIE magazine | 133

SIGNING OFF

Beate Howitt Has lived a colourful life: fleeing the advancing Russian Army as a six year old she arrived in the UK as a refugee and created various roles for herself from teacher, wife and mother to adventurer and writer. She is now on a new path of discovery as Super Model and Influencer How do you want your death announced——the Times or Twitter?

As the Queen B of the previous issue of this fabulous magazine, it goes without saying that only a black edged announcement in the Times befits my phantom royal status. Even flags at half-mast cannot alleviate the overwhelming feeling of loss that my adoring admirers will suffer. OK, in my head I’m a would-be famous model, but everyday reality is enhanced by flights of fancy that lift the spirit through the everydayness of the daily round.

Cremation or burial? Religious service or gong bath?

Naturally my role as phantom royalty requires a religious ceremony in a special place of worship, one positively overflowing with an abundance of magnificent floral arrangements. Christ Church Cathedral, Oxford would suit admirably. However, cremation would have to follow as the family grave cannot accommodate the excessive length of my legs, and certain family members may not want to be wedged too tightly against my frame! The warmth of a fiery furnace will be welcome to a chilly mortal like me, and a boxed-up-B reverberates well.

Who is on the guest list? Anyone you are hoping will not turn up?

All and sundry, in fact everyone I have ever encountered, or known and loved. Colleagues, family and friends, all in their Sunday best and ready for a great celebratory party. Should my demise happen at an inconvenient time, then call in a rent-a-mob so it’s standing room only and the place is packed to to the hilt. Enemies, no I have already made my peace with everyone, or at least with everyone who has decided to make peace with me. My guests can be certain of a joyous and harmonious atmosphere and applause will follow the Eulogy expounding my effervescent personality.

A last musical request?

Oh, yes, classical music is a must. A quartet playing chamber music would impress.

Hopefully my favourite violinist, Priya Mitchell, will be free to perform Vaughan William’s etherial “The Lark Ascending” and my choir will entertain with Bach’s “Jesus Joy of Man’s Desiring.” This kind of music may not please everyone, so the Beatles, Peggy Lee, Elvis and the like will be celebrated later in the festivities, when the dressing up trunk might also tempt.

What would you like people to be saying about you?

Nice things, please. Not like Naomi who cancelled our friendship with the statement “you are too tall, too elegant and far too nice.

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I don’t want to see you ever again.” My fervent attempt always to be a kind, caring, insightful and empathetic friend should surely have been appreciated all along. I suggest vivacious, radiant and utterly charming as much more fitting descriptives. Any way, please try to follow the rule that if you have nothing good to say, say nought.

How are you hoping to be remembered?

Oh, for my spontaneity. Perhaps also for my courage in facing life’s challenges head on and for my sense of fun and laughter.

Some may recall racy driving and my creative culinary skills as well as my witty conversation laced with good humour. Certainly my love of all God’s creatures, sporting activities, gardening, music and dancing should be mentioned. Above all I would like to be remembered for my love of life in all its fullness.

Dress Code?

Elegance and sophistication must dominate the formal celebration.

Bouncers will turn away ladies without a hat or gentlemen without a tie, or worse still, wearing a baseball cap. Royalty demands high standards. However upon the completion of the stately and theatrical part of the day, riotously colourful and racy gear is expected for the wake. My split personality must be celebrated and commemorated. So a quick uncovering of the indecorous delights will thrill the more restrained among my partying guests. By all means wear that special outfit that will set tongues a-wagging.

Tea and Biscuits or Jägerbombs all round Friends deserve the best so of course there will be bubbly, a chocolate fountain full of naughty calories, and mountains of every kind of delicacy to please the epicureans, though Big Macs can be summoned if necessary along with pizzas and other instant pleasures. Doggy bags will naturally be on hand.

Can we expect any surprises?

Theresa, my colleague and friend of many years, may sprinkle some jewels, and my son may add some grit. Be ready for the unexpected. A naked angel in the snow and a reclining nude Queen B might surprise and tantalise.

Describe where you are going to end up.

Under a mighty oak in the quiet family grave in Hertford, the town where the child refugee called Beate found a permanent home many moons ago. Perhaps beloved friends and adoring admirers will come and sit with the old girl there occasionally. n Follow Beate Howitt’s Model Life on instagram @beatehowitt

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