Parallel Lives

Manners maketh the man, they claim, but in this Wallpaper* day and age, dear reader, we know that it's really all about lifestyle. Show me THE BRANDS. Working, as I do, in ***showbiz***, a lot of people are - quite rightly - slightly intimidated by the glamorous life I lead. Imagine my surprise and delight, therefore, to discover that I am not alone. The FABULOUSLY monikered Cheyenne Westphal (did they pull those names out of a hat?) writes in the Telegraph about her week as chairman of contemporary art for Sothebys. It will surely come as no surprise to hear that, for me, it was like looking in a mirror (my italics). Take Friday, for example. Cheyenne was supposed to be on her way to New York and I'm sure that - karmically speaking - so was I. Instead, however, she goes to a £10,000-a-ticket fund-raiser and hangs out with Madonna and Prince. Now, this is where Cheyenne could learn a trick or two from yours truly. I didn't end up going to New York either but instead stayed in with a cheezy crust pizza and listened to Madonna and Prince. Saving: £10,000. Which she should put towards a new pair of specs because she says Prince "hasn't changed a bit" since 1989?? In nearly 20 years?? Even that stuff they're selling in Boots can't do that. (Note to self: too much Andy Warhol damages the eyes) But I digress. Saturday is more of the same. We both get up early. Cheyenne flies to New York, has a shower and spends two hours looking at an auction preview. I too have a shower (skip the flight, though, thereby saving time - another tip for you there, Cheyenne) and spend two hours looking for my TopShop sunnies, which I KNOW I had when I came back from Sweden. And probably at the very same moment that she was entertaining clients with Tobias Meyer in a bar with fantastic views over Central Park, I was sitting on a sarong on the Ile de la Cité with Micke and new chums eating smelly cheese, marshmallow bears and fake tartelettes Diego and waving at the tourist boats. Granted Cheyenne only had one glass of champagne, while I had a bottle and a half of Cabernet Franprix, but I'm sure the effect was the same. And it goes on: Monday, she has her favourite dish of caviar with cheese on toast, I too have cheese on toast for supper etc. etc. The only thing that worries me slightly is that AT NO POINT does she mention Starbucks or karaoke - and yet I know they're both figuring pretty prominently on my agenda this week. She probably just forgot that bit. Nobody's perfect.