AND THE WINNER OF THE FIRST-EVER LOLA AWARDS IS ... !!

AND THE WINNER OF THE FIRST-EVER LOLA AWARDS FOR SERVICES TO BLOGGING IS ... !!

Well, my dear readers, the time has come to announce the winner of our true/false statement mini-meme! A moment I know you’ve all been waiting for since last Saturday’s July in Christmas Blog Party! I’ve allowed a whole week for comments 'cos at this time of year so many of my dear and loyal readers are to- and fro-ing on vacation and I wouldn’t want them to be disappointed and left out. Indeed, as it transpires, one dear reader left a lovely comment just the other day - while she was still doing the rounds of the Christmas Party Guest List!

But before we come to the ANNOUNCEMENT CEREMONY itself, let’s take a quick look at those statements and find out which one’s TRUE! Some 3 of you believe Nora’s related to Boris! Well, that’s quite understandable given all the waffle and drivel in the posts I allow her to publish and her general, bumbling ineptitude (always trying to sneak in one of her own hunky pics! Never again, mind you!). And 6 of you think she did a trainee stint at a tabloid:

Again, quite understandable given her atrocious overuse of exclamation marks and dreadful, bombastic exaggeration! But the rest of you believe she met and chatted with Paul Newman. And ,YOU, dear readers, are CORRECT and eligible for the random draw - as the SEPTEMBER 28 2008 tag (now artfully reinstated!) proves. Congratulations! Incidentally, if any dear reader survived the trek all the way back through the unkempt undergrowth of overblown writing to that post (hopefully fortified by numerous St Bernards and assorted hipflasks), he/she deserves a separate LOLA!

So, dear readers, we have the vast majority of you as potential winners! But before we come to the announcement of THE WINNER (who, you recall, should: 1. Accept the LOLA Award. 2. Post it on their blog together with my name and blog link. 3. Pass it on plus mini- meme), let’s set the scene and put ourselves in party mood, celebratory mood by attending an Awards Ceremony together! So, dear readers, settle back and relax as I take you on a little journey...

Firstly, welcome to the Auditorium and that Red Carpet...

Let’s walk up the famous staircase together...

Of course, in our finest couture AND jewelry (lent by Tiffany of Rodeo Drive)

Oh, look! Beautiful People are posing just for US...! There’s Helen Mirren and friend over there in red, Penelope Cruz in black
and Bjorn in, well, something white!

In fact, white seems to be everywhere...

Jennifer in Valentino, Penelope now in vintage Balmain (quick change of outfit!) and Anne Hathaway in Armani...

and Evan Rachel Wood in Elie Saab, Jessica Biel in Prada and another look at Penelope plus Sarah Jessica Parker. And how about a close up of Sarah Jessica in that Dior creation - our Best Supporting Dress nomination!

And sooo many designer outfits! Help! Hope nobody’s in the same outfit as ours, are they?!

Meryl in Alberta Ferretti, Tilda in Lanvin,

Keira in Vera Wang, Miley Cyrus in Zuhair Murad (a mermaid in, er, sequins?!!)...
Then there are all these couples dying to share Hollywood gossip with us:

Plus some gorgeous men too:

Daniel and Jack - after all, it wouldn’t be a party without Jack, would it?!...
Not to mention our Gorgeous George!

But, quick, let’s take our reserved seats 'cos the ceremony’s about to begin. Look, here’s Jon, our MC, welcoming us:

followed by lots of lovely film clips and announcements!

And now all these winners thanking US for their Awards!

Nicole in Galliano, Angelina in Elie Saab,

Julia in Valentino, Kate in YSL,

Gywneth in Ralph Lauren (ugh! Not so sure!), Cate in Armani (sooo elegant!)
But before we move on to the delicious meal specially prepared for us by Wolfgang Puck

in the Post-Awards Party Marquee,

let’s return to OUR second, bigger and, more importantly, EXCLUSIVE CEREMONY OF THE DAY!! - THE LOLA AWARD - and the moment you’ve all been waiting for. THE GRAND RANDOM DRAW BY P. Look, there’s his hairy, masculine hand just pulling the winning slip out of the champagne bucket at midnight, July 31st! And, dear readers, the winner of THE LOLA AWARD FOR SERVICES TO BLOGGING

is (deafening drumroll) ...

DUSTJACKET ATTIC!

Congratulations, DustJacket! Pop over to pick up your prize!
And now back to that party and champagne all round!!!

"No! No! No! I said CHAMPAGNE ALL ROUND! NOT CLIVE ...!
Are you deaf?! You’re the most useless PA ever...Grrh! Grrh!"
VINTAGE CHAMPAGNE!
xxxLOL LOLA:)

MEETING THE LATE GREAT PAUL NEWMAN!

Got back this morning from exercising Lola and was all set to jot down my thoughts about the national Spanish sport of returning to school which has dominated events for the past two weeks. And how, having registered my partner (P) and myself for intermediate Spanish classes at the local Ayuntamiento or Town Hall, this is starting to take over an increasingly large part of our lives...

But then I heard the news. Paul Newman had died. And everything dropped away and I was instantly taken back in time to the period I spent in LA in the late eighties - and my unforgettable meeting with him.

Although a glittering star of Hollywood for more than half a century, Paul Newman was starry in a very un-Hollywood way. He stayed away from the glitzy milieu, famously preferring his steak at home to the illusory hamburger outside. He was a clever businessman, a dedicated motor-racing enthusiast, an unabashed liberal and an active philanthropist with a clutch of crusades that he actually did something about, such as the plight of sick children.

Unlike so many of his contemporaries, he didn't frequent the trendy in-restaurants like Morton's which the most powerful players in Hollywood have made their unofficial canteen, particularly on Monday nights, ever since it first opened in 1979 and instantly became the choice of stars and billionaires alike. The DreamWorks deal was done there and David Geffen, Jeffrey Katzenberg and Spielberg are all Monday regulars. So too are Ron Meyer (now an owner of Universal studios), Marvin Davis, the billionaire former owner of Twentieth Century Fox and Michael Eisner, the chairman of Disney. And not forgetting the post-Oscars party held there - the place for le tout Hollywood to see and be seen.

Paul Newman was, then, an intensely private person. And for all his charm, he was wary of his fans, once saying: "If people come up to me, perfect strangers and ask me to take off my dark glasses so they can have a look at my eyes, I just say, 'Is that all you think of me?' Are they going to write on my tombstone, 'Here lies Paul Newman who died a failure because his eyes turned brown'?" And another time, he snapped, "If people start treating you like a piece of meat or a long lost friend or feel they can become cuddly for the price of a five dollar movie ticket, then you shut them out."

So all the more remarkable that I not only got to see those famous blue eyes and sensual mouth up close and personal but also got to meet him...

It happened one weekday evening when Jeff, a friend and colleague of P's called to invite us out to dinner. "It'll be kinda surprise," he muttered.

Jeff, like most Americans, doesn't do understatement so we were unsure what to expect. A handsome and extremely eligible bachelor, he was, moreover, a member of every WASP Club in town - The California Club, Jonathan Club, Los Angeles Country Club; you name it, he joined it - which included all the movers, shakers and, above all, old money of Los Angeles. In other words, Jeff was extremely well-connected.

Anyway, we found ourselves driving in Jeff's Ferrari along Interstate 405 towards Malibu Colony when he suddenly turned off and parked in front of a small, unprepossessing Italian restaurant. And I mean small. So small, you'd have to step outside to change your mind. So small, it didn't even merit valet parking! And this in Los Angeles, the home of valet parking!

Slightly bemused, we followed him inside and waited while he had a brief word with the owner at reception, at the same time glancing into the darkened interior. Without missing a beat, we were then escorted to the rear of the restaurant where the dim lighting was struggling but losing its battle with the gloomy atmosphere. Exchanging smiles through clenched teeth, P and I followed Jeff further into the dismal darkness, unsure how much longer we could humour him with our forced enthusiasm.

Just as we reached our table, he turned to the one immediately behind and gestured towards its occupant. And, as Jeff introduced us, I found myself staring into those unforgettable, piercing blue eyes, luminous even in the blackness all around. I don't remember exactly what I said or what Paul said. It's now all a blur. The rest of the evening, too, is something of a blur. All I do recall is his saying that this small, unassuming Italian restaurant was a favourite local of his where he could enjoy his favourite cuisine without paparazzis and hangers-on waiting outside to pounce...

Unlike at The Ivy in London where it's quite usual to find yourself seated next to a Hollywood star only too game for photo coverage in the next's press exiting the restaurant. But more on that in my next post...