February 29th 2016

I don't think there's any 'Britishisms' here that I need to go through... unless you spot one or two. In which case, comment and I'll let you know what they mean. Photo above is of Cate Blanchett from last night's Oscars, and the dress is gorgeous. I've yet to see one I like more than this one!

Sarah xx

~*~*~

"Happy Leap Day!"

"Is that a thing?"

"I'm making it one."

"Oh, ok. Well, Happy Leap Day to you too."

"Thanks!"

"You sound far too happy."

"I had coffee this morning. A lot of coffee! I'm on a slight caffeine high! But, shh. Don't tell anyone."

"Haha. Your secret is safe with me. Out of interest, how many shots of coffee did you have?"

"Umm - Mum! How much coffee did I have?- Oh, crap, she's frowning at me and shaking her head. I think I did something bad."

"You sound drunk."

"Drunk... high on coffee... Really, what's the difference?"

"I would imagine there's quite a difference."

"Difference, shmifference. Mum is still frowning at me. What did I do wrong? Daniel, have a word, will ya."

"No."

"For shame, Whitaker. Or should I call you-"

"No! No, you should not call me... that."

"That's a shame. I liked your nickname!"

"You're the only one."

"Nuh uh! Connie liked it too. She almost died from laughter as she told me! Daniel, you should have seen her. She was like a hyena!"

"I left you both in a room for three minutes and eighteen seconds. How is it, in that brief amount of time, you and my grandmother became BFFs?"

"Easy, Connie loves me! Which is more than my mother right now. Honestly, I don't get what I did to piss her off."

"Did you arrive late?"

"No."

"Did you forget her birthday?"

"No."

"Did you, I don't know, wear someone else's designs instead of hers?"

"Well, I am wearing Givenchy. Oh, I'll text you a picture!"

"Not necessary, Sophie."

"But... if I didn't text you a photo, how would you know how amazing I look?"

"Fine, send me a photo. I'll give it a cursory look."

"Cursory? I might not be in my right mind, but I still know what that means! It means you won't pay any attention. Pay attention!"

"Send the picture, Sophie."

"I am!"

"Jesus, Soph, where's your coat?"

"At Connie's house."

"Ah, yeah, I forgot about that. I'll visit sometime this week and bring it to you on Saturday."

"Cool. It's really not that cold. I have a jacket somewhere... I can't remember where though. Do you think my mum took it?"

"Why would she take your jacket?"

"Revenge?"

"I think she has better things to do with her time, Sophie."

"Maybe. Oh, hey! I forgot to tell you last night."

"..."

"..."

"Tell me what?"

"Your ex girlfriend."

"What about her?"

"Bat shit crazy!"

"Um..."

"Now that I've met dearest Samuel- who, might I add, is not all that good looking!- I honestly cannot see why she would cheat on you with him! I mean, when he was flirting with me, I literally felt my skin crawl!"

"He flirted with you? When?"

"When Connie went through to the sitting room and you went to top up your drink. He leaned over and whispered- 'Baby, I could show you a fun time. Unlike that bore you rocked up with.'"

"What did you say?"

"I said, 'He might be a bore in the dining room, but he's a beast in the bedroom.'"

"Oh, God! You did not say that?"

"I think I definitely did say that. You should have seen his face. Damn, I wish I had a camera with me."

"Sophie... you don't know what you've done."

"Oh, no. Did I make it ten times worse for you?"

"No, for yourself. Now that Samuel thinks you don't want him, he's going to do everything possible to have you. You're basically walking around with a target on your back."

"Whatever, he can try, the smarmy little shit."

"Sophie-"

"Daniel... see I can do that, too."

"Cute, but seriously, my brother is going to do everything he can to worm his way into your life."

"But not my bed!"

"He'll try."

"Man, you have a better shot of getting between my sheets than your brother."

"Is that a compliment?"

"I'm not sure. At this point, it's pretty much the caffeine doing the talking. I'll probably regret all of this later once I analyse what I've said."

"Shame."

"So... did your grandmother say anything about me?"

"Yes."

"What?"

"She said quite a bit, actually."

"Like?"

"Oh, you know... things."

"Daniel! Tell me! Did she like me? Honest answers only, please."

"Of course she did. I told you she would."

"Oh, no. It sounds like there's a 'but' on the way here."

"There isn't."

"Then tell me what Connie said."

"She said that you were a wonderful young woman. Polite. Thoughtful. Beautiful. Caring. Clearly, she doesn't know you all that well."

"I can be all those things and more, I'll have you know. What else did she say? You were locked in her study for quite a while yesterday afternoon."

"She may have said other things."

"Such as?"

"Well, despite us both telling her and Samuel otherwise, my grandmother thinks you and I are dating. I'm sure your passing comment to Samuel about my bedroom prowess fuelled the flames of that notion. Anyway, after singing your praises, Grandmother said that, when I felt like proposing to you, all I had to do was request her engagement ring and then swiftly get down on one knee. Apparently, I shouldn't let you go."

"..."

"..."

"She said that?"

"Yes, she did."

"Interesting. You know today is a Leap Day, don't you."

"Yes?"

"And it's traditionally the only day that women get to propose to the man."

"Where are you going with this?"

"Daniel Whitaker, will you marry me!?"

"Sure, why not."

"Well, that was sucky response to a proposal."

"The response at least matched the enthusiasm with which the question was asked."

"What was wrong with my proposal?"

"It sucked."

"You still said 'yes', though. I'll book the church for December 31st."

"Ok, you do that."

"I'm not joking here, Daniel."

"Neither am I. Go ahead, book the church."

"I shall!"

"Good."

"Good."

"Fine."

"Fine."

"Okay."

"Okay."

"You're irritating me."

"You're irritating me."

"That's it! The wedding's off."

"Whoa, shortest engagement, ever."

"Haha, this was a fun game."

"It was indeed entertaining. My mother's assistant actually looked petrified that someone was crazy enough to consider marrying me."

"Crazy is my middle name."

"No, I don't think it is."

"Where are you? I thought you were going to Paris today."

"I am. We're at the airfield in Biggin Hill."

"Kent? What are you doing out there?"

"Catching a flight. It's an airfield. With air planes. That you fly on."

"Yeah, but no commercial planes leave from Biggin Hill, only..."

"..."

"You're on a private jet?"

"And the penny drops. Yep, Mum got the Gulfstream out."

"Rich people."

"Travel in style, I know."

"And you're making me go on the Eurostar with your sisters."

"I'm the first born, therefore, I am the favourite."

"Even though your mum is angry with you?"

"Kinda. She stopped shaking her head at me and tutting and frowning. I think I'm back in her good graces."

"Did you figure out why you weren't in her good graces in the first place?"

"I have a theory."

"Which would be?"

"I spoke to her in English."

"And that's bad?"

"Apparently. We have a rule- English with Dad, French with Mum."

"I guess I better cram some more basic French then."

"I guess you better had."

"What does your Paris schedule look like?"

"Tomorrow is kinda boring. It gets better from Wednesday onwards."

"Any shows in particular you want to catch?"

"Loads! Vionnet, Chloé, Lanvin, Dior, Elie Saab, Balenciaga, Céline, Galliano, Givenchy, Stella McCartney-"

"Ok, I get it. Loads."

"-Giambattista Valli, YSL, CHanel, Valentino, Louis Vuitton... The list goes on."

"I think the list already went on."

"Whatever, this is my second favourite time of year."

"And your most favourite time of year?"

"Fashion Week in September."

"How is it different to these shows?"

"February time, they show the upcoming fall/winter collection. Then, in September, they show next year's spring/summer collection. At the moment, all the clothes are dark and a little drab. Come September, the designs are brighter and a lot more fun."

"Sounds stupid."

"There's logic there, somewhere."

"Must be well concealed logic."

"Possibly."

"I noticed in your list that you didn't mention your mother's label."

"Well, obviously, I want to see that one, too."

"Obviously."

"Shut up."

"Haha. If that's what you want."

"I want more coffee."

"Well, you're out of luck. Why do you need so much anyway?"

"I didn't get much sleep last night."

"Because?"

"It was the Oscars. I had to stay up and filter photographs as they came in before correlating the best and worst dressed and then writing a review for each of them."

"On a Sunday night?"

"Fashion never sleeps."

"Still, on a Sunday?"

"Even on a Sunday."

"So, who was the best dressed?"

"Quite a few. Personal favourites included Cate Blanchett, Brie Larson, Saoirse Ronan... surprisingly, I liked Lady Gaga's outfit."

"Worst dressed?"

"Heidi Klum. I love Kate Winslet, but her dress wasn't flattering. Alicia Vikander was off the mark and looked a little too Beauty and the Beast."

"Did anyone wear one of your mum's designs?"

"Yes."

"And? Did it make the best dressed list or the worst dressed list?"

"As it's a conflict of interest, I didn't put her on either list. Other outlets, however, put it on their best dressed list."

"Who wore the dress?"

"I won't tell you."

"I can Google it, you know."

"Then Google it."

"Pain in my arse."

"And a very sexy arse it is."

"You're just trying to flatter me."

"Is it working?"

"...Maybe."

"Haha. Knew it would. Urgh, someone is frantically waving at me to board the plane."

"You don't sound thrilled."

"I don't? Good, at least I sound how I feel."

"You don't want to go on a private jet?"

"It's a small aircraft, not a jet. Honestly, you'd think we have a Boeing 747."

"Maybe you do."

"We don't. At least, not that I know of. I'm just not looking forward to an hour on the flight with my mother's entourage. There are no parachutes. Even if there were parachutes, it's kinda frowned upon to hurl yourself out of a plane mid-flight."

"I'm sure it won't be that bad."

"It will. Her assistant will find faults in everything I'm wearing. The PR guy will try to figure out how to explain to everyone how I'm still single, because apparently, that's big news in Parisian society. And Mum will keep going on and on about her showcase and how I should reconsider going back to work for her."

"On the up side, you get a free flight out of it."

"Yipee."

"Sophie, you amuse me."

"Thanks, I'll be here all week."

"Technically, you'll be in Paris all week."

"I'm getting on the plane now."

"Have fun"

"Thanks, I won't."

"In that case, have a miserable flight!"

"Haha."

"I made you laugh!"

"You always make me laugh."

"True, just as you always make me laugh. That's another thing my grandmother said."

"What's that?"

"She said that I laugh and smile more when you're around. Given that she's only seen us together once, that's not a scientifically proven fact, but I laughed and smiled more with you yesterday than I ever did when I took any of my ex-girlfriends home to meet Connie."

"Your grandmother totally loves me."

"Yep."

"Shit, I better rebook the church then. Don't want to deprive her of a fabulous granddaughter-in-law, now, would we?"

"Haha, no, we wouldn't want that to happen."

"Cool. So, Decemebr 31st?"

"December 31st."

"Amaze. Gotta go, Daniel. I'll phone you between shows tomorrow. And don't forget to text me through your exact measurements! Don't think I forgot, because I didn't. I'll pull as much suits and whatnots as I can for you for Saturday."

"Yeah, yeah."

"Yes."

"Oh, feisty one you are."

"Ok, Yoda. I'll speak to you tomorrow."

"Can't wait. Love you, bye."

"Love you, bye, Daniel"