Last year, when my marriage ended, I stumbled through a lot of dismal, grisaille-grey days. (This sounds dispiriting, but stay with me, it gets better.) I realised the one thing that kept my spirits upright and not dangling at the end of all those relentless question marks – and there were a LOT of question marks, from which country / city / property to live in to which bed linen to take when I moved out of our house – was seeing small starbursts of beauty in the penumbra of the post-marital darkness.
I realised that it was these ‘glimmers’, these gentle auroras, not just in the skies but everywhere, that were giving my life new meaning.
So I decided to make 2024 the Year of Beauty.
This is how it went.
I began by wearing a lot of pink. This sounds strange and possibly extreme, but my ex hates the colour so I rarely wore it when we were married. When I left it became my new uniform, a display of grace – and possibly courage. Curiously, people responded positively to the colour. Even friends who don’t normally like pink. (Pictured above: The magnificent maquettes of Dior Galerie in Paris. More on these in the next Substack post later this week.)
I also started to go to art exhibitions, especially those about gardens and flowers.
One snowy Sunday in Paris earlier this year, I stood in front of Monet’s Water Lilies at the Musée de l'Orangerie and stared at the painterly beauty, shimmering on those enormous canvases. I tried to understand how the impasto technique could create such enchantment. And then I came home and tried to paint my own green water lilies, which looked more like squidgy, slightly constipated aliens, squatting above Earth. (Pictured above, my friend Marian’s French-inspired garden, alongside my painting of aliens.)
I went for long walks in the joyous, spring-green English countryside, and I stopped in fields and picked floppy yellow wildflowers for my hotel rooms – and then ran from the cows when they turned and wet-snorted their annoyance.
I bought dresses saturated with colour (see above, from my trip to Lisbon in September, where I accidentally matched the hotel rooms) – and wore them with bold Indian jewellery.
None of it co-ordinated.
It didn’t seem to matter.
Most of all I listened to music.
For my regular walks / shuffle-runs around the glorious purple-hued borders of the Botanic Gardens (above, left), I loaded Spotify with uplifting, mid-Seventies classics by the likes of James Taylor (went to his concert; sang along to this), but also Peter Gabriel, Coldplay, and this piece of musical fabulosity by Alice Smith – Fool For You (click to listen). There was also Cher’s Believe (click to listen), Paul Simon’s Late in the Evening (click to listen), Earth, Wind & Fire’s September), Dolly Parton and Pentatonic’s fab collab of Jolene (click to listen), Amy Winehouse’s Valerie (click to listen), and Annie Lennox’s Broken Glass (click to listen).
At the end of this hour-long run / shuffle I hoped that, if I’d timed the run – and the play list just right – the route would end on John Farnham’s anthemic You're The Voice. Those famous opening notes would sound as I pounded down Toorak Road, towards Faulkner Park and home, foot-sore but happy – the beat of the ballad perfectly timed to my weary steps. This runner who has not run in fifteen years but is now making up for it with blister-filled enthusiasm.
(Side note: You’re the Voice was Farnham’s own freedom march. He knew it was a make-or-break song to escape a series of bad debts and decisions, and it turned out to be a masterstroke. It revived his career. Just as I hoped a curious biography about old roses would revive mine.)
All through that first year of singledom I stalked beauty. I became a Huntress of Light. I looked for the glimmers in everything. Gardens. Places. People (Thankfully my friends are all glimmers.) Even films and books. (Look for Happiness for Beginners on Netflix; it’s wonderful and funny and will inspire you to hike the Appalachian Trail in the Fall. Blisters and all.)
Interestingly, this search for exquisiteness affected my work. I stopped writing the misery memoir I was penning with apathetic efforts and turned instead to a biography. About fashion and flowers.
It’s an old, half-finished manuscript, but it now seems to have greater resonance.
And so, as we greet the mild mornings of October and get ready for the downhill slide to Christmas (and the dulcet tones of Miss Mariah on repeat), I would like to encourage you all to seek out and find your own small slivers of beauty. Because if I have learned anything in this year of unencumbered bliss it is that we underestimate the effect of beauty, and how it lifts us up when our feet are caught in the metal grates of life.
Try it. You’ll see. Make ‘beauty’ your default engine search. Embrace colour. Listen to Seventies lyrics. Go for a walk. Or a run. Sing your little heart out.
It works.
Trust me.
Here are a few more uplifting things to see you through the week.
As always, thank you for reading. I hope it’s been inspiring.
LONDON’S V&A – AND MARIE A.
The V&A museum in London has just announced that its blockbuster exhibition next year is all about Marie Antoinette, the French queen who knew a thing or two about beauty. The event is sponsored by Manolo Blahnik, whose shoes are often the epitome of queenly elegance. (The top photo of shoes is mine, taken at Manolo’s exhibition in Milan one year – it was so fabulous.) The V&A exhibition opens in September 2025, but if it’s anything like the Chanel one tickets will sell out quickly. So if you’re planning a trip to London, think about booking soon.
Link is here – Marie Antoinette at V&A Museum
REMEMBERING IRIS APFEL
The phrase ‘fashion legend’ is an over-used one, but in the case of Iris Apfel, it feels apt. This iconic beauty came to her fame late in life but she embraced every glamorous bit of it. And now, after her passing, we can remember her with this beautiful book, Colourful. It looks at what she wore, why she wore it, and what we can take from her unique outlook on life.
Available now in bookstores and online.
GOOD NEW BOOKS TO PUT ON YOUR CHRISTMAS WISH LIST
I love Cordelia de Castellane’s style. As the artistic director of Dior Maison, she is as comfortable designing interiors as she is wearing classic French fashion. Her beautiful new book, called Flower Couture, is a poem to prettiness, and follows on from her first book, which showed her sublime house and garden in Normandy, France. (Her illustrations are exquisite, too.)
Timothy Corrigan’s new book At Home in France meanwhile, is a definite buy for Francophiles.
Find both in bookstores or online.
GOOD NEW PARIS HOTELS (FOR VERY GOOD PRICES)
I always have trouble finding pretty but reasonably priced Paris hotels. The beautiful ones are all expensive, and the cheap ones are a bit threadbare. Well, here are two newish cuties.
Maison Malesherbes is very new – it only opened recently – and its rooms are lovely. (Bottom image.) I had booked to stay there last month, but decamped to the Left Bank instead. However, it’s on the list to visit next time.
Hôtel de la Boétie (top image) is another colourful hideaway, designed by Swedish designer Beata Heuman, who is renowned for her fabulous interiors. Both places offer good rates.
NOBODY WANTS THIS
Okay, so the title is a bit weird, but this new Netflix series is superb. I don’t want to give away too much as it’s a complicated story, but it’s also very funny.
Save it for a weekend when you need a lift.
More good stuff coming later this week.
This is such relatable post. When life becomes dark the ability to see that beauty is every where is a true talent. Seeking beauty has become my main goal. Aesthetics were always important but now I am determined to be charmed and captivated every chance I get
I love that you are on a journey to discover beauty in everything. It is a great philosophy to follow & I am with you all the way 🩷