Ella Krasner2013-05-26T01:14:43-04:00Ella Krasnerhttp://www.huffingtonpost.co.uk/author/index.php?author=ella-krasnerCopyright 2008, HuffingtonPost.com, Inc.HuffingtonPost Blogger Feed for Ella KrasnerGood old fashioned elbow grease.If You Think that Mykonos is Just for Goluboĭ, You Are Big Mistaken!tag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2012:/theblog//3.18555972012-09-23T13:44:56-04:002012-11-23T05:12:02-05:00Ella Krasnerhttp://www.huffingtonpost.com/ella-krasner/Privet Dorogaya! (1)
We Russians certainly enjoy a summer holiday! In the past, we used to spend the summer months at our dachas in countryside outside Moskva, or on the Black Sea coast - the smart destination for Russia's ruling class.
While there is still plenty of fun to be had there - for example Vladimir Vladimirovich is said to be building a holiday house on the Black Sea - and where our President goes, Russia's elite inevitably follows - for many of us the glamour of the Mediterranean is now more alluring.
The reasons why we began increasingly to look abroad for our amusement are easy to understand. It began with Courchevel - for us the best winter resort in the world. Our appreciation of the skiing quickly extended to the whole experience: the superb French wine (preferably Chateaux Latour or Lafite), great food, the shopping and - at least to begin with - the French hospitality (until they started too much overcharging us!).
And from there, it was just a short flight to the Mediterranean. The South of France has of course been welcoming generations of the newly rich to its charms, and for us the attractions are no different: the lifestyle, the glamour, the nightclubs, the shopping - and above all, the opportunities for "Mine's bigger than yours" yachting - proved irresistible!
Of course it's ryannoy (2) but - as if you couldn't guess - we Russians actually quite like that! However, we like to think we are a cut above the 'Eurotrash'. We may have the same taste for designer labels and pokaznoy (3) resort like St Tropez - but we will always be definably Russian. Whereas the Euros could be from anywhere, from Rome to Paris or Geneva: they have no identity.
So nowadays, typically we either take a house on Cap d'Antibes or we check in to the Hotel du Cap for the months of July and August and keep it as a base for the summer.
The routine is pretty much the same every year: the wives and children stay in the South of France during July, whilst the husbands continue working in Moskva and fly down to join us each weekend.
In the week, we spend time with our friends and children at each other's villas for barbecues and swimming. Or we might take a shopping trip to Cannes followed by lunch on the terrace at the Hotel du Cap - the lunch on the terrace there is the best on the Riviera.
In the evening, despite those with villas employing mnozestva (4) of chefs, butlers, housekeepers and maids, we often go out to supper with friends, or to a local restaurant such as Bacon, Tetou or Les Pecheurs.
Midweek, we leave the children with the babushka for a few days and fly over to St Tropez by helicopter to have some fun.
We lunch every day at the 55 Beach Club. Russian women don't eat or drink a lot (the days of well-built wives of the Politburo in the communist era are long gone!) so we usually order a salad and share a bottle of Cristal or rose.
For a watch, I wear my rose gold Rolex (after 10 yrs of living on and off in the UK, I have finally learnt to be understated like you anglyski - well at least during the day!). The more 'Russian' of my friends might go for a diamond Franck Muller or Breguet.
As for Svetlana: you guessed it, she wore the diamond Chopard she had bought in Paris. At one point, it caught the sun and nearly blinded an attractive young waiter, who narrowly avoided tipping the salade nicoise down her front. (Knowing Svetlana, this was probably her plan, as he would then have to clean it off!)
If we are dining in St Tropez and then going on dancing - which we invariably do - then I need somewhere to stay, because the helicopter doesn't fly after dark. If they have a room, I stay at the Chateau Messardiere - if not, one of my girlfriends usually has a Mangusta with a spare cabin, moored in the harbour.
After dinner we always go to Caves du Roy nightclub, sometimes until 7.30am - though I rarely make it beyond 3.30am! Op-as-nyy (5) you might think, but we tend to stay together, finding that there's safety in numbers. And anyway, why would we jeopardise everything we have - our husbands, our families, our way of life - for the sake of a one night stand with some Riviera povesa (6)?! (Well - Svetlana would, but she doesn't count!) Also - like anywhere else - the gossip would get back to Antibes before we did.
You might ask, with the amount of time we spend in St Tropez, why we choose to stay in Cap d'Antibes. The reason is quite simply that for us it is more peaceful and relaxing, and more family friendly. St Tropez is not for family holidays, it's for parties - and you can hardly take your children for lunch at 55! In August, we are going to Mykonos. For those of you who think that it is just for goluboĭ (7), you are big mistaken!
Do svidanya! (8)
(1) Hello Darlings! (2) Trashy; (3) Flashy (4) Armies (5) Dang-er-ous! (6) Playboy (7) Ravers (8) Bye for now!]]>Heads I Shop, Tails He Pays!tag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2012:/theblog//3.18113602012-08-22T05:44:44-04:002012-10-22T05:12:07-04:00Ella Krasnerhttp://www.huffingtonpost.com/ella-krasner/Privet Dorogaya! (1)
I am sorry to be late again. Sometimes I find it hard to keep up with this blog, especially when an invitation from Domenico Dolce and Stefano Gabbana to the 3 day launch of their first Couture Collection in Sicily, arrives - like that!
Anyway, before telling you all about this, as I predicted last time, the London Season was indeed promoina (2). I shall therefore slither quickly over a few of the events Arkady and I attended, before moving on to July and then to the South of France in my next post.
The weather doesn't really bother me for outside events such as Ascot Tsarskiy (3) or the Polo, as Arkady has an aversion to horses (a member of his family was mistakenly run through by a Cossack Imperial Guard in 1917), and so consequently we don't go.
However I am disappointed if it rains on the parties in London. For example, one of my favourite events of the year, the Serpentine Summer Party, was almost ruined when there was downpour. Luckily we were able to take cover in Herzog & de Meuron and Ai Weiwei's wonderful Pavilion. Afterwards we took some friends to dinner at Annabels which was typically good - though now feeling suddenly rather subterranean.
And finally there was The Spectator party and Dolce & Gabbana. OK - not both in London, I agree, but it's the exception that proves the reign!
Anyway, Arkady had particularly wanted me to accompany him to The Spectator Party (though why, I can't imagine - surely we do enough meeting with politician and powerbrokers in Moskva?!). He was therefore most neschastnyy (4) when I told him that a Dolce & Gabbana Couture Show tramps your British Establishment every time. I wasn't wrong!
It was, as you say, a dinghummer! Three nights of parties in Taormina, Sicily: the first evening we were taken to see Bellini's Norma at the magical open-air Teatri di Pietra. This was followed by pir roskoshnyy (5) at the beautiful San Domenico Palace Hotel. Volga quantities of Rose Dom Perignon and afterwards, an unbelievable 40 MINUTES(!) fireworks display, which we viewed from the terrace.
The Fashion Show was OUT OF THIS PLANET! After hair and makeup (provided by D&G), the guests arrived at a former monastery at 7.30pm, walking into the cloisters past models holding poses in stone alcoves, wearing creations from the Collection. Inside, we were greeted by Domenico and placed in seating areas scattered throughout an open-air set which was decorated with olive trees, and bougainvillea.
What was so good was that everyone had in effect a front row seat as the models followed a route which passed within touching distance of each person there. (Eat your liver out, Paris Couture Week, with your second and third rows!) So we all had the same view as Scarlett Johannson, Monica Bellucci, Isabella Rossellini, Anna Wintour, Hamish Bowles and invited guests from all over the fashion globe. The show was accompanied by live orchestra and tenor performing Italian arias - it was wonderful.
The dinner afterwards was at the fabulous Villa Sant'Andrea. A 5-piece Sicilian band played throughout, and later, when dinner was over, the party moved outside for a night of Sicilian dancing in the street. It reminded me of the Karaminskaya (6) back in Russia!
On my return to London, Arkady's mood seemed to be softening. Whether this was due to the time that had passed or, more likely that, from his point of view, the one good thing about my D&G trip and my no-show at The Spectator party, was that I had spent next to nothing!
Such had been the amazing hospitality of Domenico and Stefano, that I had only managed to spend 5 EUROS over the 3 days - though that's not including the dresses I ordered, of course!
As we say in Russian - Heads I shop, Tails he pays!
Do svidanya! (7)
(1) Hello Darlings!
(2) Washout
(3) Royal
(4) Unhappy
(5) Sumptuous feast
(6) Russian folk dance
(7) Bye for now!
Visit my new blog: http://diaryofalondonrussianista.com/. Fashionista Ella Krasner gives tongue-in-cheek insight into Russian high-life.]]>In for a Kopek, in for a Rouble!tag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2012:/theblog//3.16902432012-08-01T12:40:16-04:002012-10-01T05:12:03-04:00Ella Krasnerhttp://www.huffingtonpost.com/ella-krasner/Privet Dorogaya! (1)
From Paris I fly straight to New York to catch up with family and friends.
Most of my close family live in New York, including my two brothers and their children and two of my sons - one at college and one now working.
If you are wondering how one as young and krasivaya (2) as I can have boys of such an age: nyet, I have NOT visited the plastic surgeon - it's just that I was a child bride when I married Arkady! (Russkie often marry young: we need somebody to keep us warm in the long Russian winter!)
Anyway, it was lovely to see my nephews and nieces. Also, I met up with my friend Hana. We did some shopping in Barney's and Bergdorf Goodman - Barney's is the best: much cooler than Harvey Nichols and it has the best fashion buyers in world.
One day, we drive to New Jersey to visit the New Four Seasons Spa. No, it's not what you're thinking! This is not a 5 star hotel, but a Korean spa! They don't speak a word of English, but they do to-die-for body scrubs (Russians LOVE body scrubs) and amazing ginger soap exfoliation.
Feeling great, we go to the Standard Hotel in East Village for lunch. It is a beautiful day, so we sit outside and order hamburgers (they are famous for them) and a bottle of our favourite Domaine Ott rosé. And then another one. Well - in for a kopek, in for a ruble, as we say in Moskva!
From NY, I fly back to London to quickly repack for the South of France and the Cannes Film Festival. I am staying at the Carlton - OMG, it needs a facelift. (Unlike me!).
My room is overlooking the bay, but the décor is something else: YELLOW carpet YELLOW curtains; and the 1920s bath tap actually comes off in my hand! The food is katastrofa (3). And to think they made me reserve 12 months in advance - for that pile of navoz! (4)
I should be staying at the Hotel du Cap. When I think of the STEPPES of Rublye Arkady and I have spent there over the years. But it has a new owner - again - and he has said 'film people only' during the Film Festival.
He should know which side his blini is buttered - all year round - instead of - izvinite (5) - star-fu**ing for one week a year and ignoring his regular customers!
Anyway apart from the hotel humiliation, it was actually a great week - except of course for the weather - once again it rains for 7 out of 10 days. It is worse than the snow in Moskva!
The parties this year are very good. I go to the de Grisogono dinner and afterparty at Hotel du Cap; a dinner for 70 given by Harvey Weinstein at his villa for Brad Pitt. I don't go for the unshaven look - Russkie don't do neryashlivyĭ (6) - but maybe it is for a new film....or because Angelina's not there to keep him in order!
Also fun was the AMFAR (film people's AIDS charity) party - lots of stars - so great people-watching; a dinner in Monaco given by Star Diamond (a private jeweller specialising in rare, large and coloured stones); and my friend Denise Rich on her yacht, Lady Joy, for Eva Longoria.
Now we are back for the "English Season". It should be called the "Rainy Season", if the weather doesn't improve!
(1) Hello Darlings!
(2) Beautiful
(3) Disaster!
(4) Manure
(5) Forgive me
(6) Scruffy]]>Can Anything Be 'De Trop' in St Tropez?tag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2012:/theblog//3.16342942012-06-28T11:44:14-04:002012-08-28T05:12:04-04:00Ella Krasnerhttp://www.huffingtonpost.com/ella-krasner/Mamounia in beautiful suite overlooking the pool and garden.
Actually, I concerned that Arkady will spend his time looking at krasotkie (1) sunbathing by the pool, but I needn't worry - holiday is katastrofa - AGAIN!
First two days are overcast, next four raining, only one day nice. All we can do is sport (gym, yoga, swim - Russkie don't do other sport); then spa and hammam for black soap scrubs.
Happily our friends Mikhail Simeonevich and Maria fly in for weekend, so we go out to restaurant with belly dancers; then club with live music and DJ; then Pacha - like Ibiza!
Food and drink in Marrakech not so good. Couscous is bédstvije (2): so many calories - like bread and potatoes back in Russia! And Arkady doesn't like Moroccan wine, so drinks Vodka, which he says is more 'natural'(!).
After, I accompany Arkady to Moskva, where he has business. We stay at our house in Roublyovka, which is about 25 mins drive outside city centre, and is where most bogatyĭ (3) live. Is kind of Moscow Beverly Hills.
(No posh live in centre of Moskva - not even our beloved President, Vladimir Vladimirovich - because houses of hated burzhuaziya (4) were destroyed in Revolution. These were replaced in '50s by hated 'cooperative apartments', which are very ugly, and impractical for modern Russian lifestyle!)
I meet up with my friends Anna and Irina, and we have lunch at fashionable restaurant Tatler (no - I don't know why either!). Also Arkady and I go for dinner at top people Italian restaurant Mario.
The worst problem is the traffic - it can take up to 2 hours to drive into centre of Moskva, instead of 25 minutes it should be.
In old days, one could bribe an official at the Kremlin for a permit to use the central lane reserved for the Zils of the nomenklatura (5). However this no longer possible. It just show not all progress is good progress!
Next I fly to Paris, check into Plaza (Athenee) and arrange to meet with my friends Svetlana and Masha, to shop for summer wardrobe.
Buying sundresses and beachwear and shoes is fun of course, but best is shopping for jewellery. Unlike you inastransi (6), who have to wait for your husbands, we Russian girls have no problem with buying something we like ourselves.
Masha goes for some huge - even for her - Lorraine Schwartz emerald drop earrings. (Amex always say their Titanium cards have unlimited credit, but even so, I did wonder if her's might have digestion problem!)
I buy purple sapphire ring from Harry Winston. It goes perfectly with my new Louboutins, and if Arkady asks, I will tell him is amethyst!
But it's Svetlana who wins the prize. She buys the most bling watch from Chopard I think I have ever seen. Both the watch and the bracelet are so encrusted with diamonds that you can barely see either!
Even by Russian standards - well, at least sophisticated Russians - (OK - I admit it - I actually quite liked it!) - it's a little 'de trop' (7). She says it's for evenings, but I've no doubt we'll see it out with the bikini in 55. But then, is anything 'de trop' in St Tropez?
(1) Beauties
(2) Calamity
(3) Well-to-do
(4) Bourgeoisie
(5) Soviet government elite
(6) Foreigners
(7) Too much (Fr)]]>Yachts Without Crew vs Crimean Sea Scorpionstag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2012:/theblog//3.14733812012-05-23T09:32:35-04:002012-07-23T05:12:05-04:00Ella Krasnerhttp://www.huffingtonpost.com/ella-krasner/Israel.
Instead we invited Nika and Vasiliy Vasiliyevech. Big mistake. I had forgotten quite what a nightmare Vasiliy is on holiday. Admittedly, me having chosen a new type of hotel for the 'super-rich', which had no telephones and was on a tiny, remote island near the Grenadines was not perhaps such a good idea.
The first problem is that neither he nor Arkady can get a signal for their mobiles, nor for the internet. Then, when Vasiliy subsequently fails to get his emergency satellite phone working as well, he is reduced to using the telephone in the manager's office to do his deals. It is not a good start.
If this is not bad enough, when we are shown to our cottages, Vasiliy immediately loses his temper. He complains that there is no proper security, saying that palm fronds and paper thin walls (it said 'purple hardwood' in the brochure) are not remotely bullet proof etc.
When he discovers that the only transport on the island is a mini moke or a moped, he says testily that it's all very pretty, but neither is as good as an armour-plated Mercedes S600 with blacked out windows and a Mossad-trained driver.
Furthermore, he says he doesn't like the food and that there's no decent wine (i.e. Petrus or Lafite).
Next he tries to hire a yacht, so we can cruise to nearby Mustique. Nothing is big enough i.e. over 30 meters with at least 5 double cabins, even though we are only two couples. Although Vasiliy won't say it, it's because he will be embarrassed to dock in less than a 30m boat - but then, come to think of it, so would all of us!
Next problem: even if he wants to hire it, there is no crew available. Camper & Nicholson say they can try to put together a crew, but it won't be the usual one. Vasiliy says he would rather have a Crimean sea-scorpion stuffed down his swimming pants than go on a yacht without a regular crew.
The last time he did so, the chef spent the whole cruise swearing and slamming cupboard doors in the galley because he couldn't find anything. And it wasn't until the end of the first week that the steward managed to find out how to turn the ice making machine on.
Well, we stick the hotel for four days and then cut our losses and fly to Miami, planning to book in to The Setai. But of course there are no available rooms there or in any other 5 star hotel, so we decide to fly on to London.
It being Easter / Passover, there are no seats in 1st Class. (We usually travel 1st class scheduled, transatlantic - Russkiy are not keen on private jets for long haul and prefer to fly scheduled....unless they've got a 767 like Roman Arkadyevich!)
When we eventually get back to London, we think about joining Mikhail Alexeievich and Maria in Israel - Arkady and I also have Russian friends living there. But we decide against it. We conclude that, because of the religious laws, the whole country downs tools for at least three days over Passover, so Israel is unlikely to be an improvement on our Caribbean disaster.
So we end up spending the rest of the week in Vienna, where Arkady keeps a flat. To be honest, as holidays go, it really wasn't the greatest. And they say the rich are different!]]>My Daily Diet of Epsom Salts, Thin Consommé and Hi-Energy Biscuits at the Mayr Clinictag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2012:/theblog//3.14051142012-04-05T07:57:38-04:002012-06-05T05:12:01-04:00Ella Krasnerhttp://www.huffingtonpost.com/ella-krasner/Bliya! (1) - I put on eight pounds while I was in Paris. This is disaster! Arkady and I always take few days' holidays in the sun in April and I cannot let him see me in a bikini like this. So once again I go to fat collective Mayr Clinic.
The Mayr Clinic is set in a 'Sound of Music' landscape on the banks of a beautiful lake in Austria. Inside it has the atmosphere of what I imagine a psychiatric hospital to be like - not that I have actually been to one, you understand - though I am not saying that I shouldn't have!
The inmates wander round in white towelling robes, as there is nothing to get dressed for - least of all meals - for throughout your stay, you are kept on a course of Epsom Salts to flush (and keep flushing!) the system, followed by a series of klizma (2) and intravenous infusions of multi-vitamins.
Apart from this my diet consists of an eggcup-full of unsweetened raw ewe's milk yoghurt for breakfast, then thin consommé (is such a thing possible?) and hi-energy biscuits for lunch and supper. Every mouthful has to be 'chewed' 40 times (how can you chew consommé?!) before swallowing.
The inmates vary from plump middle-aged Germans and Austrians, to Londoners there to lose weight, or to detox having 'partied too much' (like my friend Svetlana!) back home.
Awful in some ways though it is, the rich flock there because it really does purge the body of toxins and cause you to lose many weight - a pebble in 2 weeks is quite normal!
Arkady took me out on the first Saturday and we drove down to Venice for the day. While it was lovely to see him, it wasn't so lovely to see him tucking in to lobster pasta and liver of the young cow, while I was chewing my biscuits 40 times a mouthful. The waiter thought I was byezoomniy(3).
When we got back to the clinic, Arkady was permitted to have supper with me, but was so appalled at what he was presented with, that he went out to local hotel and had wienerschnitzel and fries instead.
In summary, the Mayr is a peculiar kind of torture, but it's effective, and strangely addictive, and I do always come out thinner, purged and ready to take on the world.
At KX (my gym in London), my personal trainer Dave (from Trinidad) is astonished to see me so slim and raring to go and, for once, compliments me instead of abusing me, as he usually does when I have been away. (He normally greets my arrival back from holiday with shouts of "Look at your fat ass!" or "You're an embarrassment to me, and to yourself!" - (and to think this is London's most fashionable health club!)
That evening, I attended a wonderful fundraising dinner at the V&A, hosted by my beautiful, glamorous and indefatigable friend (and fellow Russian) Yana Peel, in aid of The Design Fund to Benefit the V&A. Also present was another fellow Russian, Natalia Vodianova, and the whole design globe, including John Pawson, Tom Dixon and Patrick Perrin.
As it's nearly Paskha (4), I will not be blogging for perhaps 2 weeks - I have booked Arkady and I into a secret new luxury hotel resort on a private island near the Grenadines, which we have not visited before. It has been recommended by my friend Valentina, who says it is the best thing, and apparently is ideal for taking your husband's mind off business and spending some quality time with you - I can't wait!
Do svidanya! (5)
Footnotes
(1) Damn!
(2) Enemas
(3) Insane
(4) Easter
(5) Bye for now!]]>Watching the Kopeks in Paristag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2012:/theblog//3.13750962012-03-26T06:42:11-04:002012-05-26T05:12:01-04:00Ella Krasnerhttp://www.huffingtonpost.com/ella-krasner/
We stayed, as we always do, at the Plaza Athenee on Avenue Montaigne, which is conveniently situated right in the middle of the finest concentration of world-class fashion boutiques and jewellers in the world. To give you an idea, it is opposite Louis Vuitton and next to Valentino: heaven!
In the end I didn't buy much - just a few pairs of shoes and a jacket in the Chanel sale. You might ask, why buy last season? Well, Chanel, as anyone will tell you, is a classic, which never really goes out of fashion. Also, I like to tell Arkady that I buy stuff in the sales - it makes him think that I am watching the kopeks!
Another classic is the Birkin bag. I love them - because they also don't go out of fashion like other bags, which barely last a season, and that's if you can get one. Unfortunately, everybody else loves Birkins too.
Svetlana has thirty in leather (different colours) and twenty seven in crocodile. She says she keeps them all in her walk-in closet, but even hers couldn't be that big, whatever she says. (Svetlana exaggerates.)
Anyway, we went in to Hermes to see if they had any new colours. I have been on the waiting list for years for some of them, but the one I really want is the emerald green in crocodile - at €27,900 I would consider it a bargain. Well they didn't have one - or said they didn't (you never know whether to believe Parisian shop assistants). I then made the mistake of saying I would take any colour, and of course they said they didn't have 'any colour' either.
Later, I was so zloy (1) at myself for allowing myself to be humiliated in Hermes, and still upset about missing the shows, I did what any woman does in that situation and sought comfort food. There are about six restaurants in Paris which for us Ruskiyistas have the right mix of fashion, chic and good food. These are L'Avenue, La Villa, Matisse, Costes, L'Ami Louis and Alain Ducasse at the Plaza, and in those few days, I think we visited all of them!
Lucky for them, Svetlana and Masha have more self-control than I who, like some throwback to my Kozac (2) matriarchal forebears, is drawn to food like a Tatar to a vodka bottle. My binge finally ended when I joined Arkady in Vienna for the weekend. Fortunately I am not a fan of Austrian food - all that macca (3) reminds me of pre-Soviet era cooking - so Arkady and I took the Japanese option (about the only edible food in Vienna).
On my return to UK, London Fashion Week was in full swing. I managed to get back home just in time to change for Vivienne Westwood's after-show dinner at fashion favourite, Kitchen Joel Antunes. I wore a McQueen ostrich feather skirt twinned with a Dennis Basso crocodile jacket, which turned out to be a wise choice, as it was filled with fashion royal family.
The next day I attended the Antonio Berardi show which was fabulous https://blogger.huffingtonpost.com/mt.cgi?__mode=view&_type=entry&id=1375096&blog_id=3&saved_changes=1&classic=1#s - he is one of my favourite designers. Then I went to your Kremlin for a British Fashion Council meeting at No.11 Downing Street, followed immediately afterwards by an evening reception at No.10 hosted by Samantha Cameron.Download filestyle="float: left; margin:10px"
Dorogaya (4) this really was something else. The whole fashion house was there from Sir Philip Green to Antonio Berardi, Matthew Williamson, John Rocha and Anna Wintour. Even your Prime Minister David Ianovich was there.
Next time you will be learning how I get my payback for overeating in Paris. Also about the new charity I am supporting - the International Institute for Peace. It was founded jointly by Forest Whitaker and UNESCO last year, and will be holding its first fundraising event in September, hosted by Forest, and with Mary J Blige playing the rok musika!
Do svidaniya! (5)
Footnotes
(1) Angry
(2) Cossack
(3) Stodge
(4) Darlings
(5) Bye for now!]]>No Window Shopping at the Couture Shows!tag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2012:/theblog//3.12905512012-02-21T09:17:24-05:002012-04-22T05:12:01-04:00Ella Krasnerhttp://www.huffingtonpost.com/ella-krasner/
The event was held on two floors, which was fine until Mark Shand - the brat of your Grand Duchess Camilla - began to speak. Two does not go into one, so half of us couldn't get into the room or see anything.
However, I saw my dear friend Katherine Flohr, who is behind the reviving of the Faberge Company. She gave me a tour of the first collection, which was beautifully displayed in bullet-proof glass cases watched by security men who would not have looked out-of-place guarding our beloved Prime Minister Vladimir Vladimirovich.
There was one piece in particular that set my heart beating: it was an exquisite diamond and white gold lace cuff, set with 1409 white diamonds - 30.58 carats in total. The price was RR 7 million. I will have to ask Arkady when he's in a good mood!
Last week I heard that the house in Grafton St next to Faberge's showroom was on fire. Now that I am so becoming English, I did wonder about sending my driver Oleg to 'save' it (as your krepostnoi 'saved' television sets in the summer from the shops they had put fire to), but I don't want to be deported!
So, on to the Couture Shows. Everything was set fair: room booked at the Plaza Athenee, invitations received. Then, bedstvie! Arkady needed me for a business dinner in Moskva on the Monday evening. This meant that I would miss not only the Givenchy, Stephane Roland and Dior shows, but Gianbattista Valli on the Tuesday as well.
Catching the evening flight to Paris that evening, I comforted myself that at least I would be attending Elie Saab the next day. Only I did not: my invitation had been sent to our home in New York; the replacement had been lost in transit between his salon and my hotel, and I was unable to get hold of any of his team to solve the problem due to them all being down at the venue preparing for the show.
Meanwhile, my secretary had been trying to arrange a last minute invitation to the Valentino show. Valentino takes the line that unless you are a client, you will not be invited. Unfortunately, I had been to his show a couple of years back and did not buy anything, so no invitation for Ella - which just goes to show: there's no window shopping at the couture shows!]]>Bling City - Why Russians Love Miamitag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2012:/theblog//3.12491302012-02-02T05:07:34-05:002012-04-02T05:12:01-04:00Ella Krasnerhttp://www.huffingtonpost.com/ella-krasner/inoslavnym1-. Russian jews get to do it three times! Either way - it all adds up to three weeks of fun.
This year, Arkady and I flew to Miami on 21 December for three nights at The Setai, a truly wonderful hotel on South Beach. It is a little haven of calm with a great beach and divine service.
There are a lot of Russians in Miami. One reason is that many immigrants from Russia in the last century arrived and settled there.
Secondly, those immigrants who have built up successful businesses after settling in New York, often buy a dacha there.
And thirdly, wealthy Russians from Moskva are buying holiday properties there (on Fisher Island for choice) for the great climate, the glamour, the shopping and the nightlife - in essence, the same reasons that rich Russians go on holiday anywhere.
We call it Bling City. It's all big butts and big boobs, shiny dresses and shiny shoes, and no holding back on the brillianty2. Little wonder we feel so at home!
Russians also like Miami for the way it welcomes us. For example, one evening a bunch of us went to Tatiana - a cabaret restaurant serving Russian food (in pre-perestroika vast portions, of course!) - with a great stage show. The men didn't think wine was good enough, so it was vodka all the way, and it sure was a party.
The place was heaving with elderly immigrant Russians, the women with bleached hair, too much make-up and masses of bling. Add to this the dancing on stage, and in the restaurant, the singing, the carousing and the drinking until 7.30am, and we might as well have been in Odessa in the 70s!
The next morning, Arkady went to the banya with his friends for a traditional Russian bath and beating with birch twigs. They believe that it reduces stress and purges the body of toxins (i.e. it's good for hangovers!). They certainly came back in better spirits than when they went, but it may have had more to do with the fact that they serve Russian vodka there, rather than the beneficial effects of the steam baths!
Women are permitted, but my friends Svetlana, Masha and I preferred the more modern (and restful!) treatment at the Bliss Spa in the W Hotel.
I didn't do a lot of shopping - apart from a trip to Bal Harbour - but I did make a new discovery - a brilliant little boutique called Taj, where I bought some sundresses, and a few more bikinis and beach coverups.
I also visited two favourites: Missoni - where I bought kaftans in every colour in the sale - and Scoop, for sundresses. Most of these I will be able to wear again in the summer, but after that, it will be do svidaniya3. Even if Arkady doesn't notice what I wear, my girlfriends definitely do!
We departed Miami on the boat on 24 December. Our sons, Sasha, Nikolai and Valentin and their girlfriends flew down to join us that afternoon. Arkady had hired a yacht (Northern Light) + 11 crew for two weeks and the plan was to island hop through the Caribbean down to St Barts and from there back to Miami.
First stop was Nassau - it was a little too 'English colonial' for us, so the next day we set sail for Cuba. To visit Cuba is like going back in time 50 years. It is quite simply breathtaking - like walking on to a film set in the golden age of the movies: houses in faded colours, and 50s cadillacs on the streets. We were completely entranced and spent three days there exploring and drinking in the atmosphere.
Having stayed longer than planned, we cruised over to Jamaica for lunch with British friends who were staying at the Half Moon in Montego Bay; then on to the Dominican Republic, followed on subsequent days by Anguilla, St Barts and Antigua.
The holiday was really more about spending time with the boys than anything else, so most days, we spent just sailing, swimming and sunbathing, only going ashore for barbecue lunches or suppers prepared by the crew.
If you are yachting in this way, it can be easy to forget where you are, because if you keep to the empty beaches and undeveloped coasts of an island, you sometimes don't visit the port or the town at all.
Also, the archipelagos of (say) the Virgin Islands or The Antilles are so close together that you can pass several of them in a morning's cruising, almost without really taking it in.
One place we did stop though was St Barts, for a little light shopping and lunch. I picked out a pair of white and gold bangles at Cartier, and Arkady treated me to some really lovely pear-drop diamond earrings. Later, we ate lunch at the great restaurant on the beach at the Ile de France Hotel.
From St Barts we sailed on to Antigua before turning for home, and via Nevis, St Kitts, Turks and Caicos and the Bahamas, so back to Miami. From there we flew to New York and caught the flight to London.
Next week, it will be the Faberge launch and Paris for the Couture Shows. ]]>
