don't panic

Back when I lived in NY, I used to share a studio (separate from my apartment), an entire loft floor in Chelsea, with five other artists, all guys, mostly named Bill. So they all went by their surnames. Patrick Demarchelier was upstairs: we'd often hear the crashing sound of what we could only assume were supermodels flying thru the air and landing with a thud. McGuire, one of the Bills, had his Three Point Theory to get thru life:

1. Don't panic.
2. There are always other options.
3. Ha!!! Forgot number three. But the first two usually get me by in life. Or have, so far.

Yesterday, at the pool, I deliberately didn't bring my camera, (wanted a day off), and all I saw everywhere was polka dots. On the towels. On grown women's bikinis. On children's swimsuits. Even, driving home thru Barnes, on a beautiful blonde mother and her three daughters. She was wearing a red polka dot sundress, they were all in polka dots.

It was like a sign.



Thank you for your lovely comments. It looks like the bank stuff will be sorted out, and we're having a great weekend. We're pretty resilient, Mr. Dot and I. Like supermodels, we always land on our feet.

Ashanti of Adorngirl wrote a brilliant comment about faith, followed by a lovely story by The Photodiarist (comments on 'you've got to have friends'). But yesterday we went to the pool outside town and had a glorious day, surrounded by happy friendly people, living their lives. I swam and I swam some more. And today, although the weather could go either way, we're going back.

What what will I be wearing? My favourite, itsy bitsy, turquoise polka dot bikini. Of course. Last season, Itzhak Mizrahi for Target, which my beautiful, wonderful mom bought me on a visit to West Palm Beach. I wish the Paul Vance video wasn't disabled, but please click here, it's fab. Or, the original Connie Francis version:



And I want to add: our bank is Citibank, and they're brilliant. They caught it within 24 hours, possibly much sooner, and shut our account down. Hats off to them, truly.

The funny thing is, knowing that we can't use credit (i.e. debit) card but still have a good amount of cash, we're having really fun spending minimum money this weekend. So far our cash outlays have been: splitting a bbq chicken sandwich @ the pool (including coffee for me, crisps & diet Coke for Mr. Dot), under £10. One Daily Telegraph, a loaf of good Paul's bread, a bottle of wine, a dvd: about £15. The pool is free, we get direct debited for the gym club. We've got enough petrol in the car (I hope). And we've got each other, and one very, very cute cat. What more can you want in this world?

proof

Big shout out and thank you to everyone who commented last night on my post from yesterday. Woke up refreshed and renewed and we're heading to the OUTDOOR pool ; )

Just some proof that I really do like maxis. Somewhere I've even got a shot of me in one from the first time round (the 70s). These were shot last summer in Southampton, and occur somewhere on my posts from then if you want to have a look round July and August. That's me on the left - part of a photo shoot with my niece Scarlett, then 7.5 years (that's how she decorated her birthday cake). I wish I could show you how gorgeous she looked in the shoot, which she styled for us both, down to the bracelet on my hand (£4, Primark, last season) and the fans she found in my mom's desk drawer. I look a bit silly, but who cares. The dress is I think Gap, it's really old, really light and comfortable on a languid muggy summer evening, feels like a nightgown, and doesn't wrinkle. Unlike yours truly, who does.

And for you youngsters out there who don't know this great Paul Simon song from the 80s. I especially like the line 'Faith? Faith is an island in the setting sun. Proof, proof is the bottom line for everyone.'

Turn up your speakers and sing along with Paul:

delicatobolls (you've got to have friends)

No need to adjust your dial: if these shots look familiar, there's a reason. This is just version of the same event that Jen just posted about.

I've had a very strange week so far, culminating with my husband, Mr. Dot, going out first thing this morning to get a haircut (£8), going to a cash machine and discovering that because someone had hacked into our savings account and stolen a large sum of money, they were shutting down both of our accounts, issuing new cards, and posting them, which wouldn't be received here in London until I had already flown next Wednesday, penniless, to the Dominican Republic. We were on the phone with an Indian call centre all day until finally I said to Mr. Dot, why don't you just take the tube to Oxford Street (where our nearest branch is) and try to appeal to a human being face to face?

He then called shortly after, to say he was walking to Soho instead, in this heat wave, because - get this - someone decided to commit suicide on the Piccadilly Line.



I really hope I haven't offended anyone from India, or anyone who knows someone who has committed suicide (one of my best friends from childhood did, by the way: it's not pretty, and I don't think I'll ever get over it). I'm just speaking my truth: this was my day. Actually, just part of my day. And while it was probably one of the most beautiful days England will ever see, I didn't leave the house, except, finally, to swim indoors at the gym. And it's still not resolved: we still can't get into our account, but we do have some cash to get us thru the weekend, and lovely friends who have offered us some of theirs if we need it. Their kindness blows us away.

Also, I'm not passing any judgement on this outerwear-as-underwear look, or on the width of these girl's thighs (I'll leave that debate for a time I'm feeling stronger), or even their young ages. Go to Jen's post ('things aren't what they seem') if you want a nice meaty discussion, cause I"m feeling pretty fragile today.



Which leads me to the only thing I really want to say: my friend Jen is such a star. She brought me this lovely polka dot bag from Sweden, with a beautiful comfortable orange strapless 'bra' because she remembered me saying I desperately needed a new one (and come to think of it, would not have been able to buy, as we don't use credit cards, just that one debit, which is currently frozen). When she presented me with these Delicatobolls, a Swedish delicacy, I thought if I started crying I'd never stop. I don't know if I"ll ever be able to eat them, they just represent to me all that is good, and generous, and kind, in the world.

Today, for Mr. Dot and for me, we've learned in the most profound way that.. well, check out this 'underwear as outerwear' look, because Bette says it best:



Tomorrow, cash in hand, we're leaving town to go to a branch of our gym and swim outside and just chill. I wish you all a lovely weekend, and please do come back sometime: I promise I won't always be this grumpy. I'm just having one of those days. And I just realised: he never did get that haircut!