To celebrate the release of our TENTH BIRTHDAY ISSUE tomorrow, we revisit some of our favourite features from the last GLOSSY DECADE. Spending Time With A Man saw SARAH OWENS go on memorable dates with interesting men for her monthly column …
1. MANOLO BLAHNIK (November 2008)
I am consumed with fear. It is the kind of fear that strikes on a first date, when searching in a non-perfect wardrobe for an outfit to look good in, or to just get by in. It is the fear a mountain girl feels when invited to spend time with Manolo Blahnik, the undisputed master of the shoe universe, and there is only one answer: put on anything designed by Lainey and slip on your best black heels.
My girlfriends are aghast and incredulous that I, who am happiest in my green Aigle wellies, should be meeting their demigod, their Manolo, the man who creates architecturally-crafted icons of delicious sexiness – the man who, I now realise, can make a female swoon at the mere mention of his name. Ideally, I would have taken this genius to see the botanical art collection at the Botanic Gardens in Glasnevin, as its beauty is so comparable with his own design drawings, but time only allows for an intimate conversation in the plush surroundings of his new boutique in Brown Thomas Dublin, and a journey around his current ‘Warrior Woman’ collection.
Dressed in a light grey suit, baby-blue cashmere waistcoat, bow tie and elegant slippers, Blahnik is the epitome of style and eccentricity and, within minutes, all fear is allayed by his disarming cultured charm and humour. He was born on a banana plantation in the Canary Islands, to Czech and Spanish parents – however, we have New York fashion legend and Vogue editor Diana Vreeland to thank for determining his career. “America,” he notes, “has been very kind to me.”
We talk through the notion of a perfect day for him – it would start with waking up in his glorious wisteria-clad home on one of Bath’s Georgian crescents. Fate determined that the house he fell in love with while visiting the city in the 1970s was the same one he noticed in an auctioneer’s window. Within several months, it was his – “not that I really could afford it then, but I managed and have never looked back,” he beams. “The day must be raining, I love the rain … ” He would while away time reading from his many books on art, history and literature and playing with his four refuge-saved dogs. He would then sit for hours in peaceful solitude, carving a beech-wood shoe last based on his Tombow Japanese pen drawing. Lastly, he would sculpt the heel, carving it first on a machine, then chiselling and filing it by hand. Decades of perfecting his craft have given him an unrivalled understanding of balance and cut, but the secret of the shoe’s sexuality lies in the “toe cleavage”. This design process, combined with the delivery of the rough sample one or two days later, is the “moment” for him – “the total moment, I still get a kick out of it,” he sighs. “Even more than before, because now I am much more selective and … ” he laughs, “a pain … because now I know exactly what I want. That is what age and knowledge bring to you – an understanding of what is flattering and what is unflattering. But it is the volume and the stability of the shoe that are crucial. If I am happy, then the shoe will be produced in one of the four fourth-generation factories in Italy.” The day could end with a Visconti or a Cocteau film, sipping a vodka, more reading or a call and catch-up with his 95-year-old mother, the early inspiration for many of his shoes (she crafted her own to match the designer clothes she collected).
This, of course, is the perfect day – others are spent travelling to and working in the Milan factories or visiting his now worldwide network of outlets. Opening in Dublin is a new adventure for him and he has a great affection for Ireland, having being introduced to its 1970s society through Loulou de la Falaise (the first wife of the Knight of Glin) and while staying with Bianca and Mick Jagger at Leixlip Castle. He is thrilled by the idea of meeting Garech Browne who, in his opinion, is one of the world’s greatest dressers.
I could spend days with this wonderful, gifted person, but he is determined to visit Trinity Library. I am utterly enchanted and the first-date fear has now been transformed into great love and awe – not just for the shoes, but for the man. So watch out Brad, George, Colin, Barack, because, trust me, when Manolo is in town, there’s only one man that matters.
www.manoloblahnik.com
2. JOHN BANVILLE (September 2008)
It was not easy deciding how to spend time with John Banville, Booker Prize-winning author and former literary editor of the Irish Times, as he is not a man known for pursuing exacting activities. “I like eating and good wine, or how about a movie?” he suggested. “Mmmm, not quite active enough,” I replied. I look to the Event Guide for some inspiration and there was the perfect outing – the new and permanent Arts of the Book exhibition at The Chester Beatty Library, one of the world’s finest collections of manuscripts and books. Banville is delighted.
We meet at The Clarence and I am immediately impressed by what a dapper man he is, elegant and understated. We head off, avoiding the throngs of Temple Bar for the serenity of the Dublin Castle gardens and the museum. We descend to the Arts of the Book exhibit, which focuses on the artistry associated with the production of books, from the ancient world and medieval manuscripts to fine European books. It is a stunning, inspiring and educational journey.
Banville’s own journey began in Wexford and, though he had a happy childhood, travel and departure were early on the agenda. “Books,” he says, “were an escape for me. That was something I had to unlearn – that books are a way into the world rather than an escape from the world.” Being a self-confessed “tough, pretentious little twerp” allowed him to do well with the Christian Brothers, and he claims that one of the great gifts they gave him was “a wonderful grounding in English grammar and the teaching of how to parse sentences”. He laments the inadequacy of current education in grammar, as he believes “the greatest invention of human beings is the sentence. It is what distinguishes us from everything else around us. To make a good sentence is to learn very early how to live well.”
Speaking of the writing process, he likens himself to Bart Simpson at the blackboard – writing, I must get this right, I must get this right. “I see my prose and writing as hopelessly inadequate, never good enough, never where I want it to be, nowhere near precise enough.” Delivering a book has now become more complicated as, he explains, his “greater facility for language entails greater risks” and that “in producing anything, one is always completely insecure”. That said, “it is always a new adventure – that is why one keeps doing it”.
These ‘adventures’ have delivered an impressive body of work, some 15 novels including The Book of Evidence, Ghosts and The Untouchable, various plays and three novels – Christine Falls, The Silver Swan and The Lemur – recently penned under the name of Benjamin Black. Several have won important awards – including the Booker Prize in 2005 for The Sea – and have taken this former sub-editor (a job he loved and misses) to the top of the literary field. Yet he remains characteristically modest. “I was surprised when I won [the Booker], everybody was surprised – we were all astonished,” he laughs. “Mine was not the kind of book that was supposed to win. It was a fluke, a wonderful fluke.” In answer to my question about the role of Benjamin Black, he replies, “he now does my day job for me – the person who used to be a sub-editor is now Benjamin Black”. While Benjamin may be taking home a larger populist pay packet and enjoying his role as a novelist, Banville is more interested in what poetry, philosophy and science can do; the reward for the dogged pursuit of his craft is the esteem in which he is held as a master stylist of the English language. As I depart the exquisite clock tower museum and leave this gentle literary man of two lives to return to his nearby writing shelter, the premise on which Chester Beatty, that extraordinary American philanthropist, amassed his beloved collection appropriately rings in my ears: “Quality, quality, quality”.
www.cbl.ie / www.benjaminblackbooks.com
3. PADDY POWER (May 2009)
There are few passions that bring all the strands of a country’s society together. In Brazil, it’s football, in the United States it’s baseball; and in Ireland it is racing. Our deep-rooted love of all things equine is evident everywhere from the fields surrounding deprived urban communities, to the working farmyards and meticulously presented stud farms of Leinster. Our enthusiasm and excitement for this sport are perhaps best exemplified by one simple statistic: we have 27 national racecourses that welcome 1.4 million visitors a year, more per capita than anywhere else in the world. Today, I too am racing, albeit on the motorway, to ensure a timely arrival for the highly anticipated Hennessy Cognac Gold Cup season starter at Leopardstown. I’m going to meet a man whose name has become synonymous with a good bet, good craic and a multi-million-euro empire.
For Paddy Power, the sport of kings runs in the blood. The bookmaking business of his grandfather Richard Power still reigns today, handed down, through his own father Richard, to himself and his brother Willie (the man behind Richard Power Private Betting). It will, no doubt, be passed on one day to his own son Paddy. Paddy senior is the handsome face of an ever-expanding conglomerate that has taken the somewhat seedy betting shop image and transformed it into a multi-layered array of offerings that includes spread betting, games and risk management options.
Arriving at the course, it seems fitting to see Seamus Heaney giving the prize for the previous race – the majestic voice of poetry honouring a sport that celebrates poetry in motion. As we preview the Cup runners, I learn that Paddy went to school at St Mary’s in Rathmines. Rugby was the other sport that ruled his life from childhood, until injuries curtailed any further career. But there is little regret as, he laughs, “days spent travelling from Galway to Cheltenham and Aintree, along with all the other big fun events, hardly make people feel sorry for me or my job”. His favourite course has to be Cheltenham. “It’s the Olympics of horseracing, and throughout the year you watch out for the horses you expect to make it there. And,” he adds, “there is nothing to beat the famous ‘Cheltenham roar’.” Hotly tipped horse Neptune Collonges passes in the Parade Ring with a winner’s attitude, and inspires me to ask about his favourite horse. “Moscow Flyer, a two-mile chaser – my favourite of all time,” he replies. As for jockeys, he admires them for being “so amazingly brave and fearless”.
We make our way through the crowds of fanatical racing fans. It is is here beside the track, the tote and the bars that he finds his comfort zone. I am briefed on the options of straight, place, combination, reverse and accumulator betting strategies but eventually decide to make my choice based on my usual method: the horse’s name. He is amused (but hey, this was the boy whose first ever bet was on a horse called Big Daddy, because it reminded him of his father – it came in at 10/1) and he advises that for amateur race-goers, following a trainer, jockey or the advice of media tipsters is best. I opt for The Listener but all is lost as Neptune Collonges effortlessly overtakes him. We retire to Richard Power’s corporate box of for the last race; it’s a great vantage point from which to observe the entertaining banter of the crowd and the mad mistakes of racing fashionistas. Enquiring about the problems of betting during the recession and addictive gambling behaviour, I am impressed by the care and commitment he shows the issue. “Punters are not stupid, they are aware that the bookmaker will win most of the time, but they bet for the entertainment, fun and adding value to watching sport. For those with problems, we work closely with GamCare,” he says.
Now I am feeling well prepared for this summer’s events at the Curragh and Punchestown. As the wonderfully named Paddydeplasterer passes the finish line, the Leopardstown ‘roar’ drowns out the ‘put-put’ of a lonely solo helicopter, once the only way to travel to the races for my gang of old friends. I bid farewell to a charming new one.
www.paddypower.com / www.gamcare.org.uk.
These articles appeared in a previous issue, for more features like this, don’t miss our November issue, out tomorrow, Thursday, November 3.
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