Suzy Says

Mostly about shopping and boozing it up. Those were the days!

Tuesday, August 20, 1991

Invaded by hordes of wasps at 3 am! Killed the first few, but when there were about a dozen of them to one of me, decided that discretion was the better part of valor and repaired to the back bedroom clutching my ruffled peach satin duvet. I shut the door of my room and the spare room to keep the wasps out.

The next morning, I joined Dad and Margaret for coffee, peaches, kiwi and melon while listening to the BBC World Service. Still no news of poor Mr. Gorbachev. I wonder if he is still alive.

Margaret and I went to London to shop, while Dad volunteered to deal with the wasp situation. [He’d probably prefer being stung by the wasps to shopping.] It was a beautiful day and we drove with the sunroof open, zipping down little side streets and through Sloane Square and Knightsbridge before parking. Mindful of the cars which were clamped and had ominous signs saying “DO NOT TRY TO MOVE THIS”, we paid & displayed.

Firs stop, Rigby & Peller, Corseti?res to the Queen. Margaret fell in love with a gorgeous primrose neglig?e and peignoir set in the window which was ?500, but she bravely resisted the temptation.

Inside, it is all hushed and refined, with only a few things on display. Instead, one is attended by a splendid Lady who can (and did!) tell the size, make, and model of your brassi?re through your clothes. You then repair to an elegant dressing room with a little satin couch and the Ladies bring you selections and assist you in putting them on the proper way, all with running commentary. Margaret bought two – it was way beyond my means – and as we left, a distinguished older gentleman was buying the gorgeous neglig?e in the window for his wife, who was in the hospital following a stroke. So touching!

On to Harrods, where I was dizzied and delighted. The ?3,900 “n?cessaire” and vintage Dior jewelry in the Egyptian Room! The lovely Italian perfume bottles! The silver! Oh, the clothes! The justly famous Food Hall has beautiful ornate tiles in every color, ornate plaster ceilings, and still lifes with food that had to be seen to be believed. For instance, there was one of fresh fish which seemed to be struggling up a real waterfall, garnished with plants, lemons, and seaweed. I kept looking at the displays like I was from a Third World country. Amazing.

Margaret is a tireless shopper [at the time, she was 64 and I was 29. I bet she can still shop me into the ground], and we didn’t get home until 6. We found Dad with the wasp man – apparently, there was a nest right outside my window, which I had foolishly left open. I asked the wasp man what he used to kill them, and he said it was a chemical and we wouldn’t understand. Dad asked him to tell us what it was, just for fun, and when he heard what it was, drew its diagram on the back of an envelope. The wasp man was astonished and couldn’t stop laughing. He said that was a first for him.

Dinner was a shrimp and tomato appetizer, followed by chicken and rice with runner beans (Margaret has an antique gadget whose sole purpose is to cut runner beans). Wolf Blass chardonnay with dinner. After dinner, Dad suggested a walk on Wimbledon Common. It was a beautiful pink and purple sunset. The yellow moon was deeper and bigger than yesterday. We passed some romantic cottages with award-winning gardens, smelling of roses and lavender.

Ended the walk at the Fox & Grapes pub. It was full and cheery (some patrons bring their dogs; Dad is looking forward to bringing Jesse there when he’s out of quarantine), but the same instincts that led Margaret to a parking spot in the middle of London led her to a comfortable corner table. Sitting over a bottle of crisp white wine, I felt so glad to be there. Later, when I brought the cushions in from the patio chairs, I kept looking at the clear indigo sky. I want to remember how I felt forever.