Madrid pink, Prague green, Waddesdon navy

Via my father, a good Thatcher bit at the Guardian, reminiscences from Thatcher's personal assistant Cynthia Crawford:

In 1987 she was going to Russia for the first time and I had seen a wonderful coat in Aquascutum's window and I went to get it. A lot of her clothes up until that time had been homemade by a lady. She made all those dresses and blouses with bows and things. Mrs Thatcher went to Russia and she looked absolutely fabulous. I said to her: "If you are going to fight an election in June, why don't we ask Aquascutum to make you up some working suits." She agreed, so we ordered these suits. It was when the power shoulders were in and it just revolutionised her. She looked fantastic. She enjoyed all the new outfits and got away from the dresses. She never wears trousers, not even today. She always likes formal clothes, even at home. She hasn't got a lot of casual clothes.

Because her mother was a dressmaker, she knew exactly how things should be made, how hems should be turned and how stitching should be done.

Every outfit had a name. It was mostly the name of the place where it was first worn, such as Madrid Pink or Prague Green. We might say, "We'll take Waddesdon Navy" – because she had several suits in navy. Waddesdon was where she took Mitterrand, and they had a wonderful meal. We knew we were talking about a navy suit that had a trim of a cream collar with navy roses. That was easy because then we knew what we were talking about.

The political classes

A very interesting piece by Philip Hensher at the Guardian on how he went from being an unemployed PhD in eighteenth-century satire to a junior clerk at the House of Commons - just in time to witness Margaret Thatcher's downfall...

Born polemical

I am unlikely to read Christopher Hitchens' memoir, but glad to learn this anecdote about an encounter with Margaret Thatcher shortly after her election as Conservative party leader: via Toby Young's review for the Observer:

After a bit of friendly banter about Rhodesia, she tells him to bend over and whacks him on the bottom with a rolled up order-paper. As she walks away, she looks flirtatiously over her shoulder and mouths the words "Naughty boy". "I knew I had met someone rather impressive," he writes.

Love's blind spots

At the TLS, Angus Trumble on Luca Turin and Tania Sanchez's Perfumes (a book I have dipped into with considerable enjoyment - thanks, Gautam!).

Also, this piece is not really within my central field of interest but includes several coinages I must have for the labels!