1968: EVEN THE POOREST PEOPLE CAN AFFORD IT
Monday, 1 Jan
Had a beastly dream last night. Dutronc was killed on military service a few days ago. I’m glad the first words of 1968 are on him.
Rather a super day as far as French radio goes. France Inter and Radio One linked up. The French music began at quarter to 8, with Chris Denning’s show from Paris. First he played Adamo’s new one, ‘L’Amour te Resemble’. Then he said “… now to a young man very popular in France - MICHEL POLNAREFF!!!” Did I ever think I’d live to hear Polnareff on Radio One?! It was so fantastic: it’s the only time I’ve ever heard him speak English other than when we met him. He described how he was a beatnik in Montmartre and how people thought it was rubbish because they never washed their hair but “I don’t mind,” he said, “I rather liked it!” He said he always records in London. In the London studios people are “jumping about and it was a lovely mess”. Chris Denning also talked to Francoise Hardy who was in a bit of a mood.
I’ve written to the BBC to congratulate them, encouraging them to make 1968 the Breakthrough Year.
Watched a Marx Brothers film ‘To The Races’. Groucho is marvellous.
Tuesday, 2 Jan
Wore cloak and rust-coloured cords (I’m thrilled with them). Ma, Chump and me went into Reigate. Went to Northovers and got some yellow and orange loose-weave stuff for my bedroom curtains. The most gorgeous boy served us. He was tall and thin with longish hair and a mod waistcoat and corduroy jacket, a sort of amusing intelligent type. I thought about him for ages.
At home tried to do La Fontaine but it was pretty hopeless as I haven’t got any of my books so I played ‘Le Roi de la Reforme’. I think it’s fantastic and I love saying the words as Dutronc sings them (at least, trying to).
Saw a programme on Diaghilev. Can’t think why I’ve never heard of him before. It’s awful considering he almost saved ballet. The turn of the century was a marvellous time for art, music and ballet - to think what might have happened if the war hadn’t spoilt everything. In five years Diaghilev and Nijinsky between them brought Russian ballet to Western Europe; if it hadn’t been for them we would never have heard of Giselle. There were some shots of crowds in Moscow and suddenly I felt I adored Russia.
Wednesday, 3 Jan
Had my hair loose today but it looks so flat when you see it in proportion to the rest of me.
Jim & Co did some turfing in the garden. One chap quite a snazz.
Wore cords and cloak, and after lunch we left for the Boat Show.
I was most unimpressed. This year the theme was ‘Malta’ and everywhere was a washed-out orange-brown. They didn’t even have the Dairy place where you can get cream-buns. We only went into one boat, and that was the same as ‘Sinbad’ next to us in the Marina. It was fantastic inside, I must say. Spent most of the time looking out for snazzies. Chump and Ma bought some sailing things on the Jaegar stand, and we had chips and tea befoe we left, in a dead-beat café downstairs. Outside we saw Gypsy Moth.
Went to the Chequers in the village for dinner. I really like the bar, it’s cosy and friendly. I had white-bait, coq au vin (tomato flavoured unfortunately) and crepe suzette which tasted gorgeous and marmalady.
Finished Dorian Grey – it was good.
Miserable because of back-of-waist pains.
Thursday, 4 Jan
Ma, Chump and me went to London. Parked and walked to Holland Park Underground. As we passed Lansdowne Studios who should we see but John! He was terribly sweet and asked if we’d had a good Christmas. Apparently Pol was here in November.
Went to the Danish Food Centre for lunch, then looked for beige boots for Chump. Fab ones in Russell & Bromley, tight with a zip up the back. She found them uncomfortable so I got them instead - terribly expensive (£8). In the end she chose some in red soft leather, really fabulous.
Went to the dentist, which was foul. Mr Shepherd said we looked like robbers when we came in - because of the cloaks. I knew he’d say something corny. It was snowing like mad when we went home.
There was a whole programme on Dr Christiaan Barnard, the heart man. He’s awfully nice. He looks ten years younger than he is. Daddy not so keen.
Felt miserable because of back-of-waist pains. I couldn’t bear it if they start coming back.
Friday, 5 Jan
Thank God. I felt ok all day.
Joanna Gilpin and Anna-Maria spent the day with Chump. A-M behaved rather stupidly, I think she was jealous of Joanna. I did German vocab and grammar.
Daddy pinned up all his plans for Amsterdam Town Hall on the dining room curtains. He says if he doesn’t win he’ll never go in for a competition again. Marvellous if he did win - he'd be breaking into the international ‘market’.
Saturday, 6 Jan
Tried to do French grammar but only got the subjunctive done. The reason I couldn’t concentrate was Dutronc. I couldn’t stop thinking about how unbearable it’d be if he isn’t there this year; I’ve got to make it up to him for not going dancing last time. If he’s not there I shall spend the whole holiday in a state of frustration and depression. I seem to be keener now than nine months ago. Chump is pretty depressed about the holiday because if I go out every evening (some hope) she’ll be alone with nothing to do. I sympathise with her.
Took down the decorations, and helped Dad and Chump in the garden with the path around the rose-garden. It costs 12/- every yard!
Mummy in a depressed state all day, about the state of the house etc. I wish she wouldn’t. I feel sorry for Daddy. But when he’s being stupid I feel sorry for her too.
‘I’m Backing Britain’ is in full swing! It’s a marvellous effort. The gesture alone must do everyone good.
It’s so ridiculous about Dutronc. I should have forgotten about him months ago. The whole thing is becoming an obsession. I’m not in love with him, it’s not exactly as if I worshipped him when I saw him. Still, he is gorgeous.
Sunday, 7 Jan
At lunch I said I couldn’t stand the un-enthusiasm for anything anymore, and Mummy burst into tears and didn’t stop. She’s miserable about having to have false teeth. If only it could be me - I wouldn’t give a damn. But it means everything to her: she cannot bear the thought of having a plate for the rest of her life. Poor poor Mummy. But I’m glad we had it out. Everybody felt better afterwards.
Daddy says German and Swedish girls go to Italy for their summer holidays purely for the men: Italians are dead keen on sex. Lucky I didn’t go out with that Italian boy last summer.
Changed into black skirt and new boots and at 2.30 we left for the Royal Academy Winter Exhibition. It cost 10/- to go in, and we didn’t have enough money for a catalogue (ridiculous at 25/-). We didn’t like many of the paintings, but some were really lovely, like the one I’ve stuck in here [‘The Letter,’ Fragonard]. There was also some furniture – dreadful, we thought! It was the most soppy age, especially in France. I bet the men were revoltingly polite.
The Swiss Centre
Then we went to the Swiss Centre (Leicester Square), which has just been opened. It’s fantastic. There’s no front door, just an open entrance with a heated air thing in the floor so you feel beautifully warm as you go in. In one part the whole floor is made up of timbers from the railways! It’s gutsy but very attractive. There are about five different restaurants where you can buy completely different meals, from a snack to top French cuisine. So even the poorest people can afford it - marvellous for breaking down class distinctions. We had fruit tarts and ices. More Swiss people in there than English.
Fab fire in the evening. I read about Fragonard, which inspired me to study the whole of art intensively; I have suddenly got this passion to. In fact, I can’t wait for tomorrow when I’m going to go through our Discovery Arts. I’m jolly well going to do what I like on my last day and forget about revision.
Saw Talkback on BBC. It’s so absolutely sickening and feeble, people are complaining that New Year wasn’t taken up entirely with Scotland. It just shows how un-internationalistic the British are. Who wants to stick to Scotland? They’re not the only people in the world to see the New Year in. The rest of the world doesn’t celebrate flipping Hogmanay – why should we have to put up with it for two hours on TV?
