Festival Fun

(published May '07 - Dulwich Life Magazine)

It was time for PoshMum’s trip to the Chelsea Flower show. Her gardening-mad neighbour, BetaMum took her every year - very sweet, but she did bang on about ‘Cardiocrinum giganteum’, ‘Arundo donax’ and ‘clever use of heights’ while dragging poor PoshMum around every single display. PoshMum would vainly suggest a break for a cold glass of bubbly and some oysters, but BetaMum considered this a shocking waste of viewing time, whipping out a packet of home-made sandwiches for two (and thermos of tea) from an embarrassingly unfashionable rucksack. PoshMum was fond of her little friend, but these jaunts did have their trying moments – if she ever got into the celebrity-studded, invitation-only first day, BetaMum would be history! The Season was about seeing and being seen, not committing lists of boring plants names to memory!

PoshMum and BetaMum also paired up for the Dulwich Festival, a fantastic fortnight where local residents gave generously of their time and their talent to put on artistic and cultural events for the community. There was much to enjoy, but PoshMum’s favourite was the ‘Artists Open House’ event - she and BetaMum never missed one! BetaMum (an art teacher who had studied at the Slade) was whole-hearted in her support of the local artists. She squirreled away her pennies just to buy the odd piece or two during the Festival (her taste was impeccable) and chatted happily and intelligently to the younger artists, to keep her hand in. Plus the artists invariably had stonkingly, jaw-droppingly beautiful gardens - whether a half acre in the Village or a bijou courtyard in East Dulwich – BetaMum loved this, and it made her happy to be around so many talented people.

PoshMum, in contrast, simply wanted to spot local celebs and to nose around other people’s houses. She knew nothing (and understood even less) about art – PoshHusband had inherited several sludgey, indifferent paintings when Great Aunt Hilda popped off, and that was it. Looking at other people’s kitchens and furniture was much more fun; she loved to critique the floorboards, the fire-places and the colour schemes. She had once asked a ceramicist where he had bought ‘that lovely sofa’, quite without embarrassment.

“These clever, creative types are pretty darn good at interior design”, thought PoshMum to herself (bypassing three amazing sculptures and a wall hung with innovative art) as she examined a particularly clever kitchen extension. “I’ll never know why they don’t all do that and keep all this art malarkey as a hobby.”

“Excuse me!” she said loudly, butting into BetaMum’s conversation and tapping the tall, darkly handsome artist on the shoulder.

He turned and smiled, holding out his card in anticipation.

“Just how much did it cost to dig your basement?” asked PoshMum. A stunned silence ensued.

“Basement Open Day is next week, dear; this is Artists Open Day.” snapped the Handsome Artist.

“Time to go!” thought BetaMum, hustling an aggrieved PoshMum out the door. “Oh dear - these jaunts do have their trying moments, don’t they?”