Society

Diary – 29 September 2007

It is unspeakably pretentious and whips some of my more fashion-conscious friends into a frenzy of wild-eyed insecurity. Have they been invited to the right parties? Does everyone else know which parties they chose to avoid? Fashion has no mercy apparently. London Fashion Week seems to have very little to do with fashion. There is a schedule of shows where young and suspiciously young-looking designers display their often unwearable cloths on dysentery-thin models. The Americans and the French don’t take it seriously. It ranks somewhere below Tokyo Fashion Week and above Kazakhstan Fashion Week, which by all accounts was a disaster. I went to the Luella party because Fashion Week

Ancient & modern | 29 September 2007

In AD 212, partly to raise tax, Caracalla made citizenship automatic for all free peoples within the empire. But even though many foreigners/barbarians (e.g. Germanic peoples such as Goths, Visigoths and Vandals) settled within the empire to serve in the Roman army (etc.) after that date, we know of very few granted full citizenship. What was going on? The answer lies in Rome’s most brilliant, and certainly influential, invention — a public, structured and codified system of civil law (ius civile). Access to this guarantor of civilised dealings between men was eagerly sought, but it all depended on one’s status. Various disabilities (e.g. being a slave, or a freedman, or guilty

Tamzin Lightwater’s conference diary

Sunday: All eyes on the opening ceremony for what I’m sure will be a truly memorable performance by world-renowned professional speechmaker William Hague. Owing to his impressive array of commitments on the premier after-dinner circuit, we don’t get to hear his celebrated humming routine for free too often these days, so book your seats in the hall early for a barnstorming display of one-liners (and something to do with foreign policy). Theresa May introduces ‘an inspiring presentation of our Social Action projects’. Bit of a problem with this one, I’m afraid. You would think candidates in marginal seats might be grateful for the chance to take their minds off leafleting

Who’s eating my favourite lizards on Lake Como?

The great thing about taking a holiday every year in the same place — provided it is the right place of course — is that you notice the huge, reassuring continuities, and the minute changes which prove that life, though stable, is at work. This is what I find in early autumn at Lake Como, which I have now been visiting for the best part of two decades. I look at it very intently, and necessarily so, for I paint it in watercolour every day I am there: at least one picture in the morning, and another in the afternoon, sometimes four per day. I have probably done over 200

The new senior partner sets out his stall

The trade could only gasp at the figures Charlie Mayfield revealed a fortnight ago. Next week, the new chairman of John Lewis Partnership hopes they’ll be gasping again as he opens 17,000 square feet of food hall at John Lewis in Oxford Street. No, not quite a Waitrose, but something that he claims will be different, the result of ‘co-operation between Waitrose and John Lewis’. If you thought that as sister companies they were on the same side, then you really don’t know how big corporations work. And JLP, as it is inevitably called by its executives, is a big corporation nowadays, with 68,000 employees — oops, sorry, partners —

Dream date

In Competition No. 2513 you were invited to submit a Spectator Love Bug ad for a well-known literary character. I was hoping for such comic gems as grace the compellingly quirky lonely-hearts column in the London Review of Books: ‘Eager-to-please woman, 36, seeks domineering man to take advantage of her flagging confidence. Tell me I’m pretty and watch me cling’. This potentially suicidal self-deprecation produces ads that are both hilarious and touching — and apparently successful from time to time. What woman could fail to be won over by Quasimodo’s honesty, courtesy of John Plowman: ‘You say personality matters more than looks? Well, I’m your man. Brought up in an

Fraser Nelson

This will be Cameron’s finest hour — or the scene of a lynching

Just six weeks ago, David Cameron was enthusing to friends about Arnold Schwarzenegger’s speech to the Conservative party conference. The governor of California had been on the phone, saying how much he was looking forward to visiting Blackpool. It turned out that Schwarzenegger knew what he was in for, having toured England’s seaside towns during the bodybuilding pageants of his youth. Then, a fortnight later, he had mysteriously become too busy, and the supposedly relished visit was — well — terminated. It is a fair bet that a British opinion poll found its way to Sacramento. When Mr Cameron first wrote to the governor, the Tories were ten points ahead.

Fraser Nelson

‘Now we have got to have something to say’

A new map hangs in George Osborne’s office, showing the latest parliamentary boundaries for the next general election. It could have been designed to soothe the nerves of a Conservative party election co-ordinator, for it is dominated by Tory blue. A few tricks have been used to achieve this optical illusion. There is no Scotland, for example, and marginal Labour seats are painted a faint red. But overall the picture is of a Conservative country, and an election which is eminently winnable. This is how Mr Osborne sees it — and not, he insists, just to keep morale up. ‘Although I never said so at the time, I went into

Farewell to a noble figure in Spectator history

Ian Gilmour was not the only proprietor of The Spectator also to be its editor, but he was unquestionably the best. Patrician, wealthy, high-minded, unassuming, the 28-year-old Etonian ex-Grenadier Guardsman raised a number of eyebrows when he bought the magazine in 1954 and took over the editorial reins himself. However, the five years of his editorship were to cause a lot more surprise when, in fostering The Spectator’s libertarian tradition, he not only espoused radical causes but frequently opposed the Eden and Macmillan governments. In some important respects The Spectator under Gilmour’s direction anticipated the free-thinking mood of the 1960s. He was a junior barrister, in Lord Hailsham’s chambers, and

James Forsyth

Welcome to the liveliest of coffee houses — online

A warm invitation to The Spectator’s new website The Spectator has a new website — redesigned, easier to use, with new features and writers. The online magazine will continue to do what the print magazine has always done on paper: inspire debate, stir up controversy and have some fun, with the added advantage that you can add your thoughts to ours. In expanding our web presence we are being true to the traditions of the magazine. The original Spectator of Joseph Addison and Richard Steele arose from the free-wheeling intellectual sparring of the 18th-century coffee house, and if there’s a modern version of this — a space where people can

A choice of recent audiobooks

How do you like a book to be read? There is the way my wife reads to me with her normal, unaccented voice throughout, just as she reads to me from the newspaper, say, letting the words on the page establish in my brain what the author intended — or so we hope. At the other extreme there is the fully acted and dramatised reading with old voices, foreign accents, all speaking angrily, casually, suspiciously, humorously etc. I hate this sort of reading. I feel irritated and patronised, as if the reader is saying, ‘Obviously you and the author can’t get it together on your own but don’t worry, I

Last rites

Even before the last splurge of qualifying group games are played in rugby union’s World Cup, consensus agrees the tournament has already turned into a calamity for the four from the British Isles. Even before the last splurge of qualifying group games are played in rugby union’s World Cup, consensus agrees the tournament has already turned into a calamity for the four from the British Isles. Even a quarter-final place will mean a grievous sudden-death public execution next weekend. We shall see. Mind you, say the silver-lining bright-siders, the rugby in France has at least been a jolly sight heartier for domestic spirits than that of England’s cricketers in South

Alex Massie

In search of a Golden Age…

When I saw that The Atlantic had a feature on “The Greatest Sports Book Ever Written” in its October edition I thought, well, that’s nice but I daresay they really mean “The Greatest Sports Book Ever Written That Isn’t About Cricket.” Be wary of your assumptions. turns out I underestimated the Atlantic’s taste and perspicacity. For, lo, there it is: a fine piece by Joseph O’Neill explaining why CLR James’ Beyond A Boundary is an important work – though a mystifying one should you have no knowledge of the greatest game of them all. O’Neill concludes that it’s sad that Beyond A Boundary is off-limits to Americans. But I’m not

You’ll be laughing presently

Present Laughter opens at the National Theatre next week and I went to a preview last night. Theatre-goers are in for a treat. Alex Jennings is a terrific Garry Essendine (a part Noël Coward himself played), and the set by Tim Hatley is wonderfully evocative of a Thirties drawing room. Altogether a hugely warm-hearted, witty production.

A dazzling evening

Just come home from Theo Fennell’s exhibition “Show Off” at The Royal Academy of Arts – one of the glitziest and most impressive parties I’ve been to this year. Theo has brilliantly elevated and showcased his jewellery designs to a new level. This is an “experience” not to be missed.  By devising a series of extraordinary installations of great beauty, innovation and humour he forces the viewer to look at his jewels as a serious art form. This puts Damien Hirst’s diamond-encrusted skull in the shade. This is beauty and the bling. Craft and creativity. Don’t miss it.    

Alex Massie

Department of Reaping What You Sow

I hadn’t paid any attention to the women’s World Cup until the US manager Greg Ryan decided it was a sensible notion to switch goalkeepers before yesterday’s semi-final against Brazil, dropping first choice Hope Solo (great name!) and recalling the 36 year old Briana Scurry. Off-hand I can’t think of any comparable goalie switch. When Alex Ferguson famously dropped Jim Leighton and promoted Les Sealey for an FA Cup final replay his decision was at least based on what her perceived as Leighton’s loss of confidence. But Ryan had no such excuse since no-one, not even the manager, pretended that Solo had done anything wrong. Instead what seems to have

Alex Massie

If she had chosen to support the Washington Nationals she wouldn’t embarrass herself in this fashion…

This is why people hate politicians. Just when you start thinking that it might not be terrible if Hillary Clinton becomes the next President of the United States you, hear stuff like this. Sure, it’s trivial in one sense but it tells us more about her than the details of whatever health care plan she’s punting these days. She even ducked the question of which team she’d root for if her hometown Chicago Cubs met the New York Yankees in next month’s World Series. “I’d have to switch back and forth,” she said.

One of the best places in London to hear music

I spent last night in one of my favourite places in the whole of London: Wilton’s Music Hall. Anyone who hasn’t yet been to the magical, near-derelict building which is hidden down Graces Alley near the Tower of London: go. A treat is in store for you. The place where the Can-Can was premiered—and promptly banned—it is the oldest surviving music hall in the world and is also included, sadly, in the world’s 100 most endangered buildings. Stepping from the blustery September wind into its warm, crumbling interior last night I was reminded of the wonderful sense of history that envelops you there: the faded gilt and mahogany holding the