KARL LAGERFELD: A LINE OF BEAUTY. Met Gala 2023

Karl Lagerfeld, one of the most eccentric, creative geniuses of the 20th/21st centuries. This is a tribute to the Metropolitan Museum of Art’s Costume Institute Benefit, 2023. Who can forget the 90s each Saturday evening, watching Toronto’s Jeanne Beker on CityTV’s FT: Fashion Television. I always looked forward to any segment that featured the gloved, fast-talking eccentric with this fan and clipped laughter. His fashions are, of course, legendary and the Chanel suit was reborn with understated elegance thanks to him. What’s more, always in Lagerfeld’s orbit were exciting personalities and eccentrics like André Leon-Talley, Anna Piaggi, Baroness Amanda Harlech, Inès de La Fressange & the archly eccentric Isabella Blow.

This year, the Costume Institute’s Ball was co-chaired by Roger Federer, Penelope Cruz, Michaela Coel, Dua Lipa & Anna Wintour. Later this month, KARL LAGERFELD A LINE OF BEAUTY celebrates Lagerfeld’s reign as creative genius at Balmain, Patou, Chloé, Fendi & Chanel.

Yung Miami, I loved the theatricality of this costume. She carried it off handsomely, has a great personality and was escorted by the ever debonair, Diddy!

More fashion brands by the season, it would appear. Chi Ossé is a New York City Council member and his numerology suggests a lifetime in politics. I love the cut and tailoring of his bespoke attire.

Eddie Redmayne and his wife, Hannah Bagshawe are beautifully dressed; his suit’s detailing is elegantly understated and there is a lot of lines and textures going on with her Alexander McQueen, none of which outdoor each other.

Ariana DeBose though having won an Oscar for her explosive star turn in Steven Spielberg’s remark of West Side Story, earned herself no end of scorn for turning up at the 2023 BAFTA Awards and turning her performance into some ‘woke, hip hop, American affair as the locals interpreted it. When are Americans going to dispense with Britons and their stinking sphinctered condescension. Beautiful gown. Love her style.

Vittoria Ceretti, is one of the next wave of catwalk goddesses strutting, vamping and leaving us all besotted. She is über chic and then some. Elegant.

Though previously ruled by the inimitable Karl Lagerfeld, Balmain is now the house of young creative genius, Olivier Rousteing. His creations are truly futuristic yet grounded in practicality, sensuality and function. Above all else, humour reigns.

New York City Ice Spice beautifully evokes Lagerfeld’s fluid style with the camera prop, which was definitely not in common use by the time of her reincarnation – whoever she last was. Love her curves and attitude. Elegant.

HOMMES/MEN/UOMINI

Conan Gray’s existence was sheer mystery to me until he appeared, dripping of fluid style at the 2023 Met Gala. His fluidity and fan are marvellous odes to Lagerfeld, indeed.

This devastatingly handsome, phenomenally multifaceted performer, Jeremy Pope, is a joy to behold whether onscreen or onstage. Here’s to the next generation’s of sexy leading man. The Costume Institute’s ball is a theatrical event, who better to bring this year’s showstopper. Ingenious creativity on the part of Olivier Rousteing yet again.

Usher chose to highlight the designs of a young African-American designer. As ever, he looks suave, cool and as sophisticated as crooners before him: Teddy Pendergrass, Barry White and Marvin Gaye.

Emily Adams Bode, fashion designer and next generation industry superstar. She is ethereally elegant in this pale yellow design.

Toronto Born fashion designer and activist, Aurora James, is elegant, understated; she brought some Canadian content to the Costume Institute Ball, 2023.

Isabelle Boemeke aka Isotope, young nuclear clean energy activist also attended the ball.

HOMMES/MEN/UOMINI

Dynamic American photographer, Tyler Mitchell was stylishly elegant in an eclectic design by Bode.

Los Angeles Clippers basketball star, Russell Westbrook arrived in a colourful but subdued suit, was part of the collection of athletes in attendance.

NFL championship quarterback Patrick Mahomes and his wife, Brittany arrived outfitted in BOSS designs.

HOMMES/MEN/UOMINI

Coming on strong, the devastatingly dashing Italian tennis player, Matteo Berrettini serves up nothing but aces in this superb Boss suit.

Columbian heartthrob, singer, entertainer, Maluma turned out looking elegantly fluid in this Boss ensemble. I still do not get the appeal of tattoos but there you have it.

British model, Liberty Ross and her American music producer husband, Jimmy Iovine showed up rockign Burberry.

What would a costume ball be without Queens turning up and boy does Mary J. Blige deliver show stopping theatrical style.

The riveting actor, Jodie Comer turned up kitted in Burberry and looking every bit the thespian.

British born, BAFTA award winning actor, Naomi Ackie seems to have been the only attendee whose Burberry outfit was not the current deep dark blue and black schemata.

HOMMES/MEN/UOMINI

BAFTA Award winner for best supporting actor, 2023, Barry McKeoghan came through wearing the blue and black Burberry of the season.

Burna Boy, one of three African kings rolled up in Burberry.

Up next, Skepta full of style and swagger as ever.

Completing the troika, the most dynamically charismatic Stormzy, the third of the African kings.

A man of exceeding charm and cool, Dr. Dre rounds out the Burberry brigade.

Britney Griner & Cherelle Griner were delightful – so glad her adventure turned out handsomely – Both were rocking bespoke Calvin Klein.

African model, Adut Akech brings her warm beauty to the proceedings, owning her Carolina Herrera gown.

Anna Wintour & Bill Nighy walk the red carpet at the Costume Ball.

Andy Roddick & Brooklyn Decker; she is pitch perfect… lovely.

Angéle, Belgian singer, goes for an edgier more avant-garde approach; it works.

Film producer, Fabiola Beracasa Beckman’s approach was mature and elegant.

The Brazilian amazon, Gisele Bündchen, went for a gorgeous vintage Chanel affair that did not disappoint.

Eaddy Kiernan Bunzel’s, Vogue contributing editor, approach was sleek, elegant and it came together beautifully. Gotta love those shoes!

The One! The Icon! Queen. Naomi pulled out another vintage design; She was stunning…. but of course.

TV producer and philanthropist, Christine Chiu, handsomely pulled out all the stops! #BAM

Seemingly, a funny thing happened on the way to the ball for Marion Cotillard… The hair? Whatever.

Bollywood meets little red riding hood and who else but powerhouse, co-chair Penelope Cruz can winningly pull this look off. Fabulous!

I am reminded of Irina Shayk’s leather outfit at last year’s Met Gala by Lily James’s black leather ball gown. Wow!

Chameleon Nicole Kidman wore the dress that featured in her Chanel N°5 perfume ad back in the naughties directed by Bazz Luhrmann. As ever, stylish, cool and elegant.

Korean singer/rapper Jennie Kim went for a edgy girly/sex kitten look. Cool!

Everybody’s Queen, living her best life and proving an inimitable inspiration to us all. Lizzo rocks the glamour of Chanel pearls and comes up winning as always.

Another co-chair, Dua Lipa, opted for Chanel and it worked beautifully. One very stunning woman and look at that Tiffany & Co necklace.

Baroness Dambisa Moyo was elegant in a Chanel with colours that a reminiscent of African fabrics. Elegant.

90s catwalk Queen, Carolyn Murphy came out rocking that amazing yellow, layered tulle affair. Her presence brought back some sweet memories of the 90s.

Canadian actor, Whitney Peak, magically pulled off the bejewelled flapper decked in tulle/chiffon and diaphanous cloud of white. She was a dreamy vision of beauty.

Gossip Girl castmate of Whitney’s, Margaret Qualley, nicely pulled off the ballet ribbons and short cocktail dress, even at the Met Gala it worked beautifully.

The most exciting actor of her generation, Margot Robbie always seems on the cusp of explosive, infectious laughter. Elegant. Sophisticated.

Lauren Santo Domingo, maverick, editor and philanthropist was coolly elegant, especially so when being unintentionally photo-bombed by Lil Nas X’s painted arse.

Kristen Stewart’s turn as Diana, Princess of Wales was one of greatest revelations to say nothing of a truly commanding performance. Elegantly, this artist disappears into her roles and, more importantly, her private life is a non-negotiable.

Baroness Amanda Harlech turned up to pay respect to Karl Lagerfeld, wearing a Chanel haute couture gown which I am almost certain she modelled when his muse and later working for Lagerfeld after having been introduced by André Leon Talley as a result of a fallout with the astounding creative genius, John Galliano.

Who else but Cardi B. can stick her mile-long nails into cucumber and swirl it about a plate of gravy, sopping it up and then get that slice of cucumber into her mouth without disturbing her flawless lipstick? No one beats Cardi B. that’s who. Always, she is a welcome and refreshing sight.

Maude Apatow’s appearance was more elegant relative to last year. I do not know her work as an actor but she’s got a quiet dignity that is readily admirable.

Vanessa Kirby to date has turned in one of the two best acting turns on Netflix’s The Crown. Her turn as Princess Margaret was riveting and totally engrossing. What a thoroughly fascinating actor and she looks damn good here too.

Though this actor’s personal life seems to have taken up permanent residence in the tabloids over the past 1.5 years, I have no idea what her acting chops are like. Not because of lack of interest, as a lucid dreamer, the less I look at films and TV the less intrusion there is on my dreamlife’s integrity. This though is a rather beautiful Chloé dress chosen by Olivia Wilde.

Margaret Zhan, Editor-in-Chief Vogue China and other impressive accomplishments aside, this star turn at the Met ball was impressive. I love her dress and the hair colour rocks.

Choupette!

Jared Leto as Choupette & Karl Lagerfeld whom he will portray in upcoming biopic.

Karen Elson’s Christian Siriano dress seems slightly to have missed the mark; will she be invited back?

Ava Max’s cottony confection is a truly delicious indulgence worth pursuing.

Something tells me this woman doesn’t get out much. One does not wear a goddamn hat and certainly not one to rival Nicki Minaj’s Yosemite Sam’s affair from last year’s Met Gala to an evening event. Come on Alex Newell. Just no!

Darling, it’s called a tea cosy, it’s not meant to be worn to a ball. Grace Elizabeth on the tail end of her 15 minutes. Next!

Gabriella Karefa-Johnson clearly did not get the memo; white next to mounds of rolling fat is not slimming. Clearly, she does not have a stylist.

Actor Alexandra Daddario opted for a pale, layered Dior and it actually beautifully works.

The ever elegant Miranda Kerr swanned to the ball in an ethereal white Dior.

Vogue marketing editor, Alexandra Michler Kopelman shows off her baby bump and expectant glow, both shown off in a beautiful two-toned Dior.

HOMMES/MEN/UOMINI

Costume Institute Ball co-chair, Roger Federer was exceptionally refined in Dior attire.

The man with the best ‘whatever’ attitude to life circumstances, Pete Davidson exudes his unmatched cool in masterfully cut Dior.

Hey you only live once in each lifetime. I’m loving the audacity but if it were me, I would have opted for some silver talons hauts; the nails are truly next-level glam. Bravo!

Like his ex, Kristen Stewart, there is so much that’s mysterious about Robert Pattinson. He is, though, a stunning actor and beautifully attired here in Dior.

English actor, Harris Dickinson is decidedly tall and unmistakable in his Dunhill gear. I am not in the least familiar with his acting chops.

Scotsman, James McAvoy who packs serious metal, came admirably attired with a fan in an homage to Karl Lagerfeld. A winner all around, of course and he is wearing Dunhill at that.

Glenn Close always goes big and this year’s Met Gala found her in her element. She was escorted by designer Erdem Moralıoğlu whose elegant design she wore.

Fendi creative director Kim Jones, is also joined by Fendi family director of Jewellery design (r) Silvia Venturini & Delfina Delettrez. They are on a work assignment; they are not there to look glam.

Suki Waterhouse attended with her lover, Robert Pattinson in a flowery Fendi that was both cool and breezy.

Uma Abedin returns this year in a glorious Fendi design which along with hair, makeup and earrings is pure flawless elegance.

Eva Chen’s silver and green with matching green opera gloves are Audrey Hepburn chic; this colour combination actually works and beautifully set off her glowing complexion.

Gwendoline Christie flesh-toned gown does her no favours. This colour next to her pale complexion renders her almost invisible. Stylist fail.

Yet, again, this Korean actress does not put a foot wrong in the style department. Song Hye-kyo is always elegant.

Precious Lee chose handsomely when opting for this Fendi design. It is flattering of her commanding presence and both elegant and restrained in all the right proportions. Stunning woman and the black leather opera gloves only add to her fierceness; she is gifted and a self-aware model.

Kate Moss and daughter, Lila Moss were demure in their pale pink Fendi outfits.

Christina Ricci is chameleon; she is a boss. Lovely Fendi design.

Sometimes, you only need one Hadid to bring it. Gigi definitely came through in this memorable Givenchy design.

What a difference a year makes, and some Disney funding, Halle Bailey this year has scored a style coup in Gucci design. Showtime!

I positively love every film this Oscar winning actor stars in. Jessica Chastain’s Gucci is flawless.

Though not familiar with the British actor’s work, Daisy Edgar-Jones’ Gucci here is daring without being risqué; she’s on point.

By far, one of my favourite couples: great actor, gorgeous model whose chemistry is sizzling. Dapper and ever debonair, he is handsome to her cool intoxicating beauty.

Three-time Emmy award winner, Julia Garner, is fittingly commanding in this caped Gucci ensemble.

Like Viola Davis and Angela Bassett, Salma Hayek has been cheated out of a deserved best actress Oscar for her star turn in Frida. That notwithstanding, she remains the most ravishing film actor of her generation and always a joy to behold on or offscreen.

Show the children how it’s done, Jordan Roth. Why it is so difficult to stand on the red carpet and not be pigeon-toed? Sienna Miller and others take note. Seriously!

Congratulations to the G.O.A.T Serena Williams on the good news of adding to her beautiful family with Alexis Ohanian. As ever, Serena looks marvellous.

Bad Bunny is the moment. Bad Bunny is hopping! Style and so much more!

Kylie Jenner brings the glam factor wherever she vamps. This is a beautiful Jean-Paul Gaultier design.

I’ve not really seen Yara Shahidi walk the red carpet before; I don’t know if it is just a matter of her being a face but this design and her body are not harmonised. Then again it could just be me and the fact that her right foot has triggered my number one pet peeve, it is sickled in.

Devon Aoki, that most exotic of oiseaux, walks the Met Gala 2023 carpet with designer Jeremy Scott whose design she clearly here favours.

Karl Lagerfeld

Carla Bruni had the gall to diss Meghan, Duchess of Sussex on her IG page then quickly pulled it down and featured Prince Harry’s SPARE shortly afterwards and offered a review that haemorrhaged obsequiousness partout. Of course, it did not go either unnoticed or unchallenged by yours truly. The blasted, vile, depilated macaque Couchon. You don’t like Blacks… Fuck You!

That’s right, keep doing your Icarian turn, Cara Delevingne; no one can ever resist a delicious slice of schadenfreude…

Caroline Lebar, team Karl Lagerfeld honcho, coming through owing the place and spreading her light.

Amber Valletta, another 90s catwalk champ; always good to see her.

Survivor. Legend. Boss. Diane von Fürstenberg. G.O.A.T that’s who!

Last year, in her Prabal Gurung pink outfit, Michelle Yeoh was not only a standout but she had winner written all over her aura. And just like that, she returns to Met Gala having become the first Asian to win best actress Oscar. Go Lady! Always, she is exceptionally elegant.

HOMMES/MEN/UOMINI

Bryan Tree Henry got the memo. Go big or go home! Solid!

Alton Mason ain’t funning. This gorgeous star means business. This was one of the most beautiful costumes on the night. This is a Lagerfeld bride that gives Claudia Schiffer a run for her dimpled gorgeousness.

Oh my darlings, it’s the deliciously arousing Manu Rios back to keep our pulses racing. Gosh but he’s delightful.

African-American beauty queen turned actress, Rachel Smith, was a regal vision in a smoky silver strapless Lavin.

Then along came that delightful amazon, Karlie Kloss in a long black Loewe sheath. Her jewellery was spot-on and unlike Kim Kardashian’s, her pearls did work. The bowed shoes handsomely added to her allure.

Nichapat Suphap contributing editor for Vogue Thailand was smartly elegant in her black opera gloves to set off the black and white Louis Vuitton gown.

HOMMES/MEN/UOMINI

Sino-Korean Hong Kong rapper, Jackson Wang, did not disappoint when it came to delivering his trademak style and swagger. Gorgeous.

Curvaceous model, Paloma Elsesser arrived on the arm of the designer Raul Lopez whose LUAR designed her très chic gown.

John Galliano, creative director Maison Margiela. Genius. Visionary. Shaman.

Great-granddaughter of John Paul Getty, Ivy Getty models and focusses on chiefly being an artist. For Met Gala 2023, Ivy chose this exquisitely elegant one-shouldered, tulle-covered Maison Margiela grown with multiple tassels of dripping sable-toned fringe. Details. Details. Details.

TKF Twigs, like Jennifer Lopez, one always get the feeling that at some point FKA Twigs will resume relations with Robert Pattinson. Time will tell. As with Ivy Getty’s design, there are a lot of details in this masterfully constructed design. These are the designs of a true master couturier and that John Galliano has always been and remains. So very good to see his creative genius having a home to flourish. John Galliano is as equally eccentric and just as ravishing a creative genius as was Karl Lagerfeld.

Marc Jacobs bringing flair, self-possession and pride like no one else… and those nails!

Fiery Brazilian singer, Anitta, came through in a sculptural Marc Jacob designs with contrasting white opera gloves and the most handsome Tiffany & Co. diamond necklace with sizeable ruby pendant. Yes!

At long last, Paris Hilton is a mum and looking just as ‘hot’ as ever. I could not believe that during her interview with La La Anthony, she declared that it was her first time at the Met Gala. She looked beyond elegant whilst being walked by Marc Jacobs in his eponymous designs.

Giving Kylie a run for her money, Kendall Jenner arrived taller than usual in a shimmering minimal design by Marc Jacobs. How she and Paris Hilton managed those heels is a true mystery.

Kim Petras’s Marc Jacobs design was a bit too busy and crunched at the bustier. Just as long as she wasn’t with that triffling they/them/it/other blob was just fine. Besides, the Met is not about the alarmingly drab.

Ew! You bred with that? Georgina Chapman in Marchesa. Moving right along.

Erykah Badu doing Erykah Badu; I should think that her shadow has grown bored by now. Thankfully, no shadow has had to hang around, moored to a put-through appendage for centuries… so there’s that.

David Byrne pulls up on a white bike and what’s not to love? He sports an eye-searing white bespoke suit from Martin Greenfield of Brooklyn as only he can carry off cool.

Michael Kors in Michael Kors; of course, the best dressed men always wear shades.

You can always count on Emily Blunt to bring on the old Hollywood glamour; the lace is everything. Elegant.

Artist (singer/actor) Kaitlyn Dever decided to set pulses racing in this dramatic red gown and work it did. What a truly stunning gown.

Vanessa Hudgens came through, laying on the glamour with a serious side order of sexy; that train and the eyes are fierce.

Lea Michele has survived much and still standing she does rather elegantly. Stunning; just look at that shower of shimmering metallic silver.

The very versatile actor, Ashley Park, evokes the old Hollywood glamour vibe and beautifully so.

Actor/producer, Kerry Washington’s look at last year’s Met Gala was more dramatic than her look this season. I rather favour her Tory Burch drama gown from last year to this fishtail gown. Either way, she is as ever stunning; her smoky eyes and that choker are everything.

Emma Chamberlain, internet phenom, wore a faux two-piece Miu Miu in powder blue.

Sydney Sweeney, young versatile American actor with the dreamiest eyes, wore not surprisingly a dreamy pastel Miu Miu affair.

Ashley Graham, another model, effectively used by designers to best ‘walk’ their designs at the Costume Institute Ball’s red carpet. Obviously, as arrangements go, it is a win win. I personally do not like the look of fishtail but this Nina Ricci design’s colour schemata against Graham’s tawny complexion works beautifully.

This Oscar de la Renta design chosen by Lily Aldrige is far superior than her Kaithe design worn at Met Gala 2022. The elegance of this strapless affair cannot be denied. The contrasting giant salmon bow and train may, though, be distracting.

Every time I see Doja Cat, I am readily disinclined to become focussed on either her or her music. Even her ode to Choupette is off; why not choose a design from one of the houses with which Karl Lagerfeld was associated. For me, she never draws you in and I have no idea what her music is like, old fossil that I am becoming. Her feline prosthetics and makeup are spot-on.

Though this is a very beautiful design worn by gifted actor, Amanda Seyfried, sorry, I just can’t get past the pigeon-toed pose. How does this daft, archly gauche pose ever look good to either photographer or subject? Beautiful colour, the cut is superb and her hair is gloriously styled.

Allison Williams, American actor/scream queen, is elegantly presented in this ode to couturier, Karl Lagerfeld in this timeless Patou design. I love the cut and colour.

Alia Bhatt, Indo-British actor, is beautifully turned out in this Met Gala favourite designer Prabal Gurung design. The shimmering princess ball gown of white tulle is ethereally chic.

Quinta Brunson has novaed onto the TV cosmos, bagging Emmy awards along the way. I do believe that this is her first Met Gala. Sheer black overtop creamy pink with matching two-toned train works handsomely.

After last year’s powder blue princess, tulled affair, also by Prabal Gurung, Quannah Chasinghorse has opted this year for an edgier look and this time in pink. I suppose that I am more partial to last year’s look, as here was more southwest jewellery on display then. Perhaps, it is the opera gloves but they lend an air of punk which may not have been the intention; nonetheless, love her energy.

Yellowstone actress, Kelsey Asbille Chow cuts a dramatic figure with her fire engine red Prabal Gurung with train. So who exactly doesn’t like a garter?

Rita Ora and her haute exoticism looked truly drop-dead gorgeous in this double-trained black number.

Gorgeous African model Anok Yai is all that and lots more. Loving the dark brown fishnet veil adding more drama to her fringe and gold bustier Prabal design.

HOMMES/MEN/UOMINI

Taika Waititi is boldly debonair in this long flowing smoky gray coat with double stranded pearls and more confidence than a can of sardines. The man is damn fine.

Gabrielle Union has always been a favourite actor of mine; she is so readily engaging from role to role. She really earned a major supporter in me when she and her dashing husband, Dwayne Wade, spoke very passionately at the NAACP Awards this year in support of their MTF daughter, Trans and LGBTQ+ rights. These is nothing demure about an extra thick red leather coat atop red gown with tail. Bravo!

Maya Hawke, actor daughter of Uma Thurman & Ethan Hawke, in this pose looks not dissimilar to a young Shirley MacLaine. That aside, I love the white-on-white look and the feathery details plus train nicely carries it off.

British actor, Letitia Wright is one of these born somnambulant Blacks who are forever grateful for being over lorded by the god of what is clearly one’s enemy’s religion. Trust you me, if it were that important, you would not be afforded access to their religion, anymore than a Black is afforded a best actress Oscar. Her choice of Prada design merely betrays how self-restrained her perceptions. All alas is choice.

This woman swans through life, being feared/adored for being a moneyed Jew but she will never be nothing more than a vile anti-Black racist. One does not forget! All the moneyed men in the world and she will never rise above the repugnant conceit that had her sat for that pose.

HOMMES/MEN/UOMINI

Coming on strong, it’s none other than Chinese singer/dancer/rapper, Kai Xu Kun. What’s not to love, we share the same birthday! Beautifully attired, love the jewellery, coat’s detailing and those Prada shoes are everything.

Rami Malek’s Freddie Mercury will standout in time as one of the best biopic performances in cinema. Clean, unfussy elegance.

Kodi Smit-McPhee’s appearance this year soars stratospherically above his Met Gala 2022 appearance. The shoes and the blue detailing are restrained… elegant.

Broadway actor, Jeremy Strong successfully transitioned to TV and in the process won himself Golden Globe & Emmy Awards for his turn on Succession. There’s flair but he is a man with a family to support and seemingly not the slightest focussed on celebrity. Admirable.

Dwayne wade continues to impress and inspire millions. Tall, dark, devastatingly handsome, he drips nobility of spirit like no one else. His is such a beautifully cut coat. Fabulous human.

Was anyone else wearing Ralph Lauren? Does it even matter? Jennifer Lopez looked regal and hers was the only fascinator/hat worn to an evening event which proved not to be a faux pas. Jennifer was the moment at this year’s Met Gala 2023. The lines, the fabrics, the colour co-ordination all made for the most handsomely elegant look. Queen!

Grammy Award-winning, Broadway/TV singer/actor, Julliard alumna, Phillipa Soo showed up. That’s all that matters, love the riot of black and white getting it on for a handsome design by Richard Quinn. Go Mama!

Eileen Gu’s Robert Wun red polka dots design is not what I expected of an explosive athlete. She looks beautifully poised and elegant.

This is a massive turnaround, after that unaware indulgent horror at the 2023 Oscars, TEMS does not here commit a fashion faux pas, as these feathery tendrils though fascinator, do not obstruct and look glaringly out of place. Will she ever live down her Oscars appearance? Lips, nose, eyes, brows, love her look and the feathers at the bustier, plus the fishnet veil do it for me; she has the most alluring eyes. I want those opera gloves… Keep doing you, Darling.

Model/Actor Camila Morrone came through rocking her Rodarte design: lace, velvet, slight fishtail and train. Sensational!

Always stylish, Alexa Chung opted from an eclectic design that’s both busy and avant garde. What does it matter, it’s Alexa that’s who and it works.

Chinese model, He Cong comes on strong. This is an awesome outfit.

Ghanian-British actor/filmmaker, Michaela Coel is also co-chair of this year’s Met Gala. Her diaphanous cocoa design by Schiaparelli nicely sets off her gorgeous complexion. Her cornrows are exquisite and those golden heels are perfecton. Love her, simply stunning!

Well, much like her relationship with her escort last year, her beading did not hold up too well. Ms. Kardashian has looked way more stunning at past Met Galas.

Natasha Poonawalla, India’s vaccine Queen, showed up in a futuristic mirrored Schiaparelli and cast shards of her light partout.

HOMMES/MEN/UOMINI

Jordan Roth is Showbiz incarnate. And boy does he know how to infuse the right dash of drama into his theatricality. Go on, show them how it’s done. What better ode to Karl Lagerfeld could there be than being a human fan; hands down best dressed attendee at Met Gala 2023.

Diddy arrived representing Sean Jean with the grandest gestures. What was most refreshing was him grabbing the black battery operated fan from production as he chatted with hostess, La La Anthony who was a gorgeous vision in white. God was she light years more sophisticated than last year. Brilliant. Back to Diddy, the black on black on black is divine.

La La Anthony’s praises I cannot sing enough. This year’s chosen design knocked it out of the park, relative to last years design, which left her looking shorter and it was way too busy and the hat was just so wrong. Not to knock Derek Blasberg but La La Anthony by far was the better host this year. Go on Lady, rock it!

Comedic actor, Rachel Brosnahan came through in cape, starburst pasties all in black with come hither eye makeup. Rather alluring.

Singer/comedic actor, Keke Palmer came through in a strapless multi-beaded column gown accompanied by a billowing powder blue and mauve cape. She looked marvellous.

Julia Carey also chose a swirling geometric Simkhai and did not put a foot wrong, right down to being accompanied by her charming partner, James Corden who opted for a brilliant blue jacket to match his cool.

Mindy Kaling made a massive revolution in her Met Gala appearance this year over last year when she chose a Prabal Gurung design. Accompanied by Jonathan Simkhai, An intricate layered design, there is a lot happening here; most of all, Kaling looks light years more body confident and this photograph does not do justice to the amount of weight loss that she’s healthily achieved. Simply stunning.

Billie Eilish opted to attend in a Simone Rocha design that looked better suited to a themed gathering at Halloween. Perhaps, my take on her look is coloured by the fact that I simply do not get the draw of this artist.

Model Imaan Hammam chose a sleek white column with train Standing Ground design. The stark white handsomely set off her tawny complexion and gave added drama to her amazing locks.

Designer Stella McCartney wore a beaded black jacket/mini dress with dramatic leggings and chunky footwear as she walked with Madelyn Cline & Audrey Plaza.

Actor Madelyn Cline opted for a gun-metal gray and black strapless sheath with modest train as she walked in with Stella McCartney.

Quirky actor, Audrey Plaza, I believe that her social behaviour is chiefly rooted in her personal vibrational dynamics than anything else. Interesting design they are not standouts, this speaks more to the design elements rather than not.

Filmmaker Baz Luhrmann and his wife, Catherine Martin came fully kitted in Thom Browne (he at least did) and looked marvellous for it.

As with last year’s Met Gala, Thom Browne was heavily represented this year, starting with Korean model, So-Ra Choi. Hers was a massive oversized coat which asymmetrically draped about her body in heavy fabric, all of which was winningly capped off with a black fishnet veil which nicely highlighted her heavy lipstick. Powerful.

Writer, Amy Fine Collins, 30-year veteran at Vanity Fair Magazine came with the general black & white theme with stabs of red, a braided hairstyle that matched the ribbing in her beautiful Thom Browne skirt.

The ever fluid Janelle Monae chose another oversized jacket/coat dress with its hoop exposed. Then, darlings, she moved the coat from atop the hooping and began vogueing with the malleable hoop exposing her body-hugging outfit. She like Amy Fine Collins opted for a dog bag that completed the little girl in adult clothing theme to this masterfully cut Thom Browne design.

Disney alumna, Jenna Ortega has that magical aura which allows her to convincingly inhabit whatever role she is focussed in. Here, thanks to the sweep of her train and her confident swagger, her costume is evocative of the swashbuckling pirate.

Bella Ramsey’s pose more than her costume is the winning photograph. She seems as though a mere child wide awake at the ball, neither groggy nor fazed. She is stunningly august-souled.

Another Disney alumna, whose matured into a pop princess, is Olivia Rodrigo whose costume is utterly marvellous. Love Thom Browne’s use of prime colours black and white and the range of combinations are incredible. Ms. Rodrigo is seriously fabulous…. what a great dress.

Not really classic tweed, there is something about the fibres and fabric that’s evocative of another age. The tailoring, the ribbing, the oversized stitches, to say nothing of the fishnet veil are all winners. The real standouts are the exposed hips compensating for the monochromatic gloves is an ingenious detail that successfully works, especially so on singer, Teyana Taylor.

HOMMES/MEN/UOMINI

Athlete Shai Gilgeous-Alexander brings it, in this elegantly cut Thom Browne where white rather than black predominates. Gorgeous ensemble.

African Writer and entertainer, Trevor Noah looked decidedly handsome in his cornrows and the usual innocent smirk.

Pusha T. sports the rapper’s signature cornrows which nicely complement his two-toned Thom Browne suit.

Here’s a rather straight forward Thom Browne outfit being worn by actor Alexander Skarsgård.

The master himself, designer Tom Ford adding commanding power, style and elegance to the costume ball.

Pierce Brosnan wears Tom Ford whilst his beautiful wife, Keely Shaye Smith, is adorned in Monique LHuillier. Gosh she’s glamourous.

Next up, Seth Meyers and wife, Alexi Ashe. He definitely is attired in Tom Ford, she though I am not certain of.

The always elegant, Joan Smalls brings her light and glamour to the gathering. Who doesn’t look sensational in black lace? Smashing!

HOMMES/MEN/UOMINI

Always expect Bradley Cooper to be among the most stylish at any gathering. Suave and elegant.

Dee & Tommy Hilfiger appropriately attired in Tommy Hilfiger. Still going strong.

HOMMES/MEN/UOMINI

NFL wide receiver, Stefon Diggs looking every bit like a power athlete. Handsome man in a very beautifully cut suit.

Singer Jack Harlow returns to the Met Gala, looking even more dashing than last year. Here, he does look like the subject of a 17th century Flemish painting.

Tory Burch of her eponymous design house came through as last year, looking next-level poised and glamourous. That is a very beautiful dress.

Indie folk Queen, Phoebe Bridgers wore one of the more elegant designs of Met Gala 2023. The beading and shoulder details evoke flapper/Edwardian glamour.

Emily Rajatkowski, of course, showed up. I think that I am being to get this human. This design is a bit understated for her ‘out there’ persona; it is beautiful.

Model Liu Wen, chose wisely. Off the shoulder, bouquet of white roses wrapped in a black column, black opera gloves capped off by perfect makeup.

What a difference a year makes. Just look at Nicole Peltz Beckham. She has so grown into her role of being on the world stage and a recognised actor. She glows, is more relaxed and clearly comfortable in her skin. They are genuinely a couple, Brooklyn looks ever more comfortable being her plus one. Her black ribbon choker is everything.

Go Priyanka! The Citadel is some serious chops! The white opera gloves and Nick Jonas’s leather jacket, to say nothing of the Bulgari necklace beautifully complement their synergy.

Rhianna and A$AP Rocky have graced the costume ball this year… and she is yet again expectant and it shows. Rhianna always seems to be most comfortable at the Met Gala and enjoying herself.

EGOT(Emmy Grammy Oscar & Tony) Viola Davis is coming through that’s who. No one does pink and red like Valentino and no one wears colours better than the masterful actor, Viola.

Oscar-nominated actor, Stephanie Hsu presented a beautiful interpretation on Hollywood Glamour, which in the age of gender fluidity was celebrated with the tie’s inclusion. This dress was magnificent.

Another actor at the Costume Ball, Florence Pugh certainly brought that drama in a headdress that worked at night for its theatricality and not dissimilar to the delightful Poppy Delevingne’s blue feather fascinator worn at Jack Brooksbank and Princess Eugenie’s delightful wedding. Pugh’s black fascinator was nicely set off by the floor length black ribbon that kept her business in check as this seemed to want to spill out from the exquisite white gown with train.

Designer Vera Wang attended in a design that was light and airy; mostly tulle there was an ode to Karl Lagerfeld with the use of an oversized pearl-like necklace and his first name on the train.

Actor Lily Collins wore a black and white version of Vera’s gown with Karl’s name on the black rather than pale train.

Donatella wore a beaded pink column that was minimalist and elegant.

Actor Anne Hathaway, who rarely does events like these, looked radiant as ever in a pearl ribbing, trained gown that was a clear ode to Karl Lagerfeld.

Charlotte Tilbury wore a jade green Versace which handsomely set off her healthy red mane. Exuberant.

HOMMES/MEN/UOMINI

Sino-Canadian actor, Simu Liu looked naturally refined in this snug Versace; love those shoes.

Vivienne Westwood 8/4/1941<O>29/12/2022 Snake 8.3.9 = 2

Actor Elle Fanning, who attended Vivienne Westwood’s London memorial February past, along with Kate Moss, Victoria Beckham, Anna Wintour, Chryssie Hynde, the ever bewitching Lily Cole, Bob Goldof, Bianca Jagger, Zhandra Rhodes, Edward Eninnful, Vanessa Redgrave, Bella Freud, Marchioness of Bath Emma Thynn, Stormzy, Twiggy, Marc Jacobs, Farida Kelfa, Yasmin, Amber & Simon Le Bon, Erdem Moralioglu, Tracy Emin, Paloma Faith & Alexa Chung. Elle’s floral crown and bouquet is a fitting tribute to the departed creative genius, Karl Lagerfeld.

HOMMES/MEN/UOMINI

Finneas O’Connell always looks Straight outta the closet as he hides out in this Vivienne Westwood coat.

Chloe Fineman did a horrible job of hosting the red carpet at Met Gala 2023 along with the unflappable Derek Blasberg who did his elegant best to make sure that none of that shit got on his shoes. Her Jackson Wiederhoeft was chic and understated, all eclipsed by her deplorable social skills on the evening.

HOMMES/MEN/UOMINI

Broadway star, Ben Platt was memorable in his white with black trimming suit proved a smash.

Unlike last Met Gala’s leather clad dominatrix chic, this year, Irina Shayk went for a totally different approach and opted for Yohji Yamamoto’s ethereal white design.

Hugh Jackman here is attired in Zegna, his wife, Deborah-Lee Furness’s attire I never discovered. As ever, the partners always look blissfully harmonious. Elegant.

NOTABLE

Agnes Chiu, president Entertainment, Condé Nast & Tom Gilmore also attended the Costume Institute Ball. All these notables are here gathered as their outfits’ designers were not readily found anywhere. Look good they did nonetheless.

When your mum is Anna Wintour, you are going to show up. The lovely Bee Corrozzini and filmmaker partner, Francesco were cool, relaxed, adding the wow factor to the evening.

Everyone’s favourite crooner, Josh Groban, who currently stars on Broadway, arrived with Natalie McQueen, tatts and all. He’s marvellously attired… smooth as ever.

Willow Bay & Bob Iger turned up in honour of Karl Lagerfeld. Gosh her gown is next-level fabulous whilst he kept it real in Karl Lagerfeld sneakers.

Kargo Global CEO, Harry Kargman and partner Jill Kargman attended the Costume Institute Ball celebration of Karl Lagerfeld’s creative genius. She looks marvellous.

Condé Nast CEO, Roger Lynch & partner Cathleen Lynch attended this year’s Met Gala. Her dark blue gown is supremely elegant.

Instagram CEO, Adam Mosseri & partner Monica Mosseri graced the evening with their dignified presence. There is a lot of detailing here, her dark elegant attired dress nicely complemented by the black opera gloves.

Grace Murdoch and her mum, Wendi Deng Murdoch attended the Met Gala in beautiful pastel gowns, looking ethereal with mum anchored by that exquisite necklace.

Tony-nominated (win it) Wendell Pierce stepped away from starring on Broadway to attend the evening’s Gala. He was joined by the chic, Erika Woods. Good luck, June 11th Mr. Pierce!

Blackstone Group CEO Stephen Schwarzman was accompanied by the shimmering Christine Schwarzman in a gold one-shouldered gown. Glamourous… mais oui!

Charles Shaffer, Anna Wintour’s son and partner Elizabeth Cordry bringing their warm glamour to the ball.

Entertainment executive, Casey Wasserman & partner Jennifer Chandler brought their warmth and glamour to the ball.

Adrienne E. Adams, speaker of the New York City Council attended the ball in a beautiful single shoulder lace affair. Elegant with a most warm beautiful smile.

Dr. Lisa Airan attended in a beautiful yellow flowing gown, radiating her light. Beautiful earrings.

Model Montana Cox breezed through in a minimalist lean black sheath.

She’s just a Broadway Baby! Yeah, Micaela Diamond is coming through that’s who. Currently, on Broadway in Parade, she wore an exquisite lilac gown to the ball.

Vogue & Teen Vogue director, Lisa Love was chic in vintage coat dress attire. Refined.

HOMMES/MEN/UOMINI

Broadway Tony-nominated actor, Jonathan Groff came through with a touch of theatricality to his suit and looked every inch the winner.

Well, of course, Vogue creative editorial director Mark Guiducci would attend the glamourous ball. The white tie was sublime.

Two-time Emmy-nominated E! presenter and Variety executive, Marc Malkin came through and did not disappoint in his red carpet turn at this year’s Met Gala. From the tie, to jacket, to nails, he wore dignified iconic style like a pro.

Norwegian billionaire, Gustav Magnar Witzoe must be the obsession of every latter day Andrew Cunanan, working the 1% sugar daddy circuit. Gustav, of course, is a model… no shit! Darling… does it even matter if it is not art?

Karl was many things beyond eccentric and creative genius of the highest order; he was also the godfather to Hudson Kroenig who along with Choupette has inherited the majority of his vast fortune. Sweet and blissful dreams Karl; thank you for having grace this world with your stellar magic. No, not adieu, à la prochaine!

Hand in Hand – Mulgrew Miller Full Album 1993

1. Grew’s Tune

2. For Those Who Do

3. Thinkin’ Out Loud

4. Leilani’s Leap

5. Like The Morning

6. Hand In Hand

7. Return Trip

8. Waltz For Monk

9. Neither Here Nor There

Christian McBride – Bass

Lewis Nash – Drums

Joe Henderson – Tenor Saxophone

Eddie Henderson – Trumpet, Flugelhorn

Mulgrew Miller – Piano

Kenny Garrett – Soprano & Alto Saxophones

Steve Nelson – Vibraphone

This past week, I had the most lucid of dreams; this was decidedly beyond the norm. It was set at the cosy intimate funkiness of the Village Vanguard; this reanimation was, though, set on the astral plane. As in all astral plane-focussed dreams, the basement Jazz club had ridiculously high vaulted ceilings and the ambiance in the place seemed millennia old. Everyone here was of 9 strand DNA heritage and the most refined of souls. I sat at a deuce, alone, nursing a glass of Henny and smoking a decent Cohiba. Onstage the divinely gifted astral plane habitué Mulgrew Miller was alone, playing the most mind-altering Jazz piano not often heard this side of the dreamtime. I drew on a quickened breath as walking to join me, was Merlin; he wore a panama hat and a parrot brooch, both favourites of his and his loose slacks were held in place with suspenders. What was different here, was Merlin looked as he did in the life prior to being reborn in Toronto. In that life, Merlin was born creole (high yellow) in Louisiana and made his way to New York City during the Harlem Renaissance; he was an amateur Jazz musician. He sat, put his arm around me and we kissed; it had been too long since I had felt such quiet ecstasy on kissing a lover most rare. Just like that, I awoke and began flooding my art-filled home with Mulgrew Miller’s Hand in Hand.

______________________________________________________

As ever, life is like a flying dream; if you look down, you’re fucked. Enjoy the ride and fear no one!

_______________________________________________________________________________

©2013-2023 Arvin da Brgha. All Rights Reserved.

Go On, Put A Doily On It…

Must you prey on us? Good god someone put a damn doily on it, already!

This past weekend, I looked at the 2021 Oprah Winfrey interview with Duke & Duchess of Sussex; you are always bound to find some new kernel with each viewing. Et voilà, there it was; not once did either the Duke or Duchess mention, Camilla, Duchess of Cornwall. So, I fast began reviewing the evidence.

During their first royal engagement after their 2018 wedding, HRH Prince Charles, Prince of Wales says something to footman and soon enough the Sussexes are ushered from the Buckingham Palace garden party, where Camilla famously waves off Meghan, Duchess of Sussex by rudely waving her right hand in a slapping gesture. HRH Prince Harry, Duke of Sussex looking both surprised and upset, soon departs the event with wife and that’s that.

Camilla all along has been given a pass. What she has never been able to do, is sink her talons into Catherine, HRH Duchess of Cambridge. For one, Catherine, bless her, is a warrior soul and with the toughest Michael overleaves imaginable. For another, her task companion, HRH Prince William, Duke of Cambridge is not only his mother’s son but he is deeply protective of his wife, who is the more dominant partner in their soul connection. I do believe as much as it was to shield the new-born HRH Prince George of Cambridge from HRH Prince Charles, Prince of Wales, it was also TRH Duke & Duchess of Cambridges’ desire to be nowhere near Camilla, HRH Duchess of Cornwall.

Windsor, Camilla HRH Duchess of Cornwall 17/7/1947 Pig 8.6.9 = 5

Michael: Yes, this scholar is at the mid-level of the mature soul cycle — third life thereat.  Camilla is in caution mode with a goal of growth.  A pragmatist, Camilla is in the moving part of intellectual centre. 

Body type is Lunar/Venus. 

Camilla‘s primary chief feature is impatience and the secondary arrogance. 

The fragment Camilla is third-cast in sixth cadence; Camilla is a fragment of greater cadence seven.  Camilla‘s entity is five, cadre six, greater cadre 7, pod 129. 

Camilla’s essence twin is a scholar and the task companion is a warrior. 

Camilla’s primary needs are: exchange, freedom and power. 

There are 10 past-life associations with Arvin and 6 with Merlin.  (July, 2017) ­­­­­­­­­­­­­­

______________________________________

Like HRH Prince William, Duke of Cambridge, Camilla, HRH Duchess of Cornwall is a scholar soul and like William is also a mature soul. Camilla is the same soul age, mid-cycle mature as Meghan, Duchess of Sussex. Camilla is on her third life at mid-cycle mature, though this soul age, which only ever occurs during the mature soul cycle usually takes one, two at the most incarnations to complete…. obviously, there are exceptions to everything. Third-level or third life at any soul age is more likely where one creates karma. Like Catherine, one of Camilla’s primary needs is power. Unlike Catherine’s powerful overleaves, Camilla’s overleaves are pretty straight forward; slow and steady wins the race. As such, she has done every shady underhanded thing imaginable to be the one wearing the Kohinoor crown at Charles’ coronation.

One of the rare photographs of Diana, Princess of Wales and Camilla, HRH Duchess of Cornwall in 1980. Diana was the threat, the enemy; a mere lamb to a famished eagle was Diana to Camilla. Camilla’s numerology is remarkable and apart from 8 in the first position – greedy persons who expect their partner to serve them the world on a platter, she has 5 in the fourth position. Indeed, she would eventually emerge a full-blown blemished flower, tarnished by sexual scandal. Hundreds of years into the future, Camilla will be known as the most powerful royal woman of the 20th century. Without doubt, it will have been because of Camilla why Charles will be dismissed by historians as the Tampon King. Both Camilla and Charles have 5 in the fourth position, which always introduces scandal of a sexual nature into the picture. That 9 of Camilla’s speaks to her unmatched ambition to bulldoze anything in her journey to end up Charles’ Queen Consort.

Windsor, Charles Prince of Wales 14/11/48 Rat 5.7.2 = 5 London

Charles Windsor is a seventh-level mature second-cast warrior.  Charles Windsor is in observation mode, with a goal of acceptance, and attitude of pragmatist, moving part of intellectual centre.  

Charles’s body type is Mercury-Saturn. 

Charles’ primary chief feature is stubbornness, secondary is self-deprecation. 

His casting is virtually the same as Robert Bateman’s: entity two, cadre four, greater cadre 16, pod/node 404 but he is a second-cast in a fourth cadence, entity four, cadre four, greater cadre 16, pod/node 404. 

He has an incarnate warrior essence twin with no plans to meet and a discarnate priest task companion, who exerts considerable influence on him. 

_________________________________________

Charles is rather interesting; he is an older soul than his late father, his mother, HM The Queen, both his wives as well as both his sons and their respective wives. Thus far, of the overleaves of royals channelled by yours truly, the only immediate relative of his who is close to him in soul age is Archie, who is also a seventh-level mature soul; however, Archie is a priest soul, which is an exalted role. Charles has been seen as ahead of his time on environmental issues because he happens to be an older soul. As I am also seventh-level matures-souled, artisan and on third life thereat, it is always deeply satisfying to dream of HRH Prince Charles, Prince of Wales. He is always very gentle, hobo-like and utterly without airs, which are indicative of his being an older soul. He is almost always in nature and shamanic to the core. Incidentally, Charles paints as it is a function of his casting position in cadence – second/artisan/creative – this is Michael overleaves rather than numerology. As is obvious from his numerology, Prince Charles would be affected by sexual scandal during the course of his life.

Incidentally, Camilla & HM Queen Elizabeth, The Queen Mother, a mature slave, are both souls from pod 129. Charles is in pod 404. William and Catherine are in pod 208. Diana, Princess of Wales in pod 380. Prince Philip a mature warrior soul in pod 408. Here is where it gets interesting, HM The Queen, Duke and Duchess of Sussex, both their children Archie & Lilibet along with Prince George of Cambridge are all in pod 418 and they are also all if not entity mates at least cadre mates. That is a pretty strong contingent with an immutable bond. Positively no one will ever come between HM The Queen and Prince Harry.

Simon Dorante-Day 5.4.1966 Horse 5.9.4 = 9

When there is a 5 involved, there is truth to the rumours. Both Camilla and Charles have 5 in the fourth position. There is no way that HM The Queen could have sanctioned a marriage of a seventeen-year-old HRH Prince Charles to Camilla Shand. She was a commoner. Charles is the heir to the throne and could not be having a shotgun wedding to an obviously pregnant commoner before he is even twenty years old. Coming so soon after the scandal with her sister, HRH Princess Margaret and in the 1960s, there is no way that a marriage was possible between Charles and Camilla. There had been no long courtship and all of a sudden within 9 months of their marriage Camilla gives birth; the amount of planning for a state wedding of the future Sovereign, ruled out the wedding. Goodness, Camilla would have been in her third trimester by the time of a wedding. Canada was too close to America with a tabloid leak possible. New Zealand too small and South Africa too controversial. Australia large enough and remote enough. The obvious resemblance to both HRH Prince Charles and Mark Shand, Camilla’s brother are not coincidental. Do you think that after having to give up her son with the future Sovereign, her maternal instinct would not have had a vested interest in Diana, Princess of wales, who was 14 years her junior and utterly clueless? Diana was prey and no predator can ever resist prey whose offspring would prevent her from her rightful title of future Queen Mother.

Throat singers are openly ridiculed by Camilla, HRH Duchess of Cornwall whilst on tour with HRH Prince Charles, Prince of Wales in Iqaluit, Canada in June, 2017. To their right in the video is Governor-General David Johnston, who looked understandably embarrassed. It is simply astounding to me how this woman could have been afforded so many passes time and again for being so damn despicable. Sweet baby Black Jesus, can you just imagine how Meghan, Duchess of Sussex would be mercilessly lynched in the British tabloids if she were to have behaved so disrespectfully to the Inuit, Canadians, the Commonwealth, the Governor-General of Canada, to say nothing of HM The Queen. But there she is, the Rottweiler to have ensnared the future Sovereign and leaving him for all history to be dismissed as the Tampon King.

True to her innate scholar soul inclination towards prejudice, Camilla, HRH Duchess of Cornwall has given the plot away over the years. She has taken to using her handy little prop – the small white parasol if only so that her hands are always occupied such that she doesn’t have to lean in and god forbid kiss or shake hands with anyone who is an otiose, undesirable… an untouchable – you know the usual sort that one can expect an aversion from bigots: darkies, brown people, golliwogs, the whole lot. Trust you me, I have been in London for Trooping the Colour and it is way too damn hot with all that exposed crushed red clay or limestone, especially so when air conditioning is almost unheard of in England. Alas, there she is each year without her trusty little white parasol to ward off golliwogs et al. God only knows, the very admirable, superior statesperson of impeccable diplomacy, HM The Queen was never given to traipsing about the ‘colonies’ with parasol in hand to ward off the untouchable darkies, golliwogs et al. Truth be told, Camilla could not be attempting to preserve her dubious, renowned beauty parasol-armed as she prefers when amongst the colonies, teeming with darkies and golliwogs, whom she ever seems intent on being rid of ASAP.

Alice Keppel 29.4.1868 Dragon 2.6.2 = 1

Numbers like these present a woman of inordinate confidence, charm, style and when she entered a room, she owned it. It is the mark of a superior courtesan; she could seduce anyone. Hypnotic and bewitching, her effect would have been magical.

HM King Edward VII 9.11.1841 Ox 9.2.7 = 9

A snob to the core; this man appreciated nothing but the finest – double 9s. For him, there could have been no finer, ravishing, prized mistress than Alice Keppel. His mindset of 2 would have left him completely besotted by her magical aura; their passion would have been consuming and sizzling.

HRH Prince Charles, Prince of Wales arrives minus Camilla, Duchess of Cornwall to HRH Princess Eugenie of York’s October, 2018 wedding at St. George’s Chapel, Windsor Castle. Where Alice Keppel, Camilla’s great-grandmother, failed to have bagged her prince, once finally having gotten that ring, Camilla did not have to play nice… if ever she had. Prince Andrew disproved of her and as she is not an older soul, Camilla would have wasted no time in saying sod off to Andrew and his daughter’s trifling nuptials.

Camilla is a pragmatist and having survived the British tabloids and secured in the knowledge that she had given birth to Prince Charles’ firstborn, she could not have given a damn. There was an engagement at a school the day of Jack and Eugenie’s nuptials and she was not going to change her itinerary. Royals lined up at Galilee Porch for sending off of Jack and Eugenie, yet nowhere was Camilla, HRH Duchess of Cornwall to be seen. She is a future Queen Consort, Andrew is a damn Paedophile and currently, her predatory focus was dispensing with that damn Yank golliwog, who was too charismatically like Diana for her own good and Camilla’s liking. Scholar’s are very good at sabotaging others.

HRH Prince Charles, Prince of Wales presiding at the handover ceremony of Hong Kong to China in June, 1997. Naturally, Charles was then divorced from Diana, Princess of Wales, who a month later would attend the funeral of murdered fashion designer, Gianni Versace and herself violently killed a month later in Paris.

Charles, November 2021 in Barbados for the handover ceremony as the Bajan government removed the Crown as head of state and became a republic. Just as at HRH Princess Eugenie of York’s wedding, Camilla could not be bothered and chose to be a no-show. She who is future Queen Consort, could not have cared less as this was just some otiose castoff island full of golliwogs. Besides, the ceremony was at night and since she could not be shielded from bloody golliwogs with her ubiquitous parasol – honest to god what beauty pray tell could she be protecting – to hell with them, she will not be going. Contemporaneous with the blackamoor-wearing bigot HRH Princess Michael of Kent is Camilla; a fact which should not be overlooked in how the Sussexes were racially preyed on in the various royal households. Charles and his wife Camilla are the direct representatives of HM The Queen; it was an important event and it was not as though she, Camilla, was back in London on a ventilator for suffering severe Covid. Indeed, it is not as though the failed broodmare had to stay behind and nurse Charles’ latest issue.

Well, ain’t karma a bitch! So having murderously driven Diana, Princess of Wales to the astral plane, Meghan, Duchess of Susssex to California, Camilla’s hope of having her son with Charles sequestered in Australia all these years, recognised and made heir presumptive, the ungrateful bugger had to go and marry and breed with a damn mongrel golliwog! If you think that for one second Camilla has not been a vile witch towards Diana’s beloved sons, just look at her response to throat singers in Iqaluit and HRH Princess Eugenie of York’s wedding. She doesn’t look like Plotte Visage Queen Consort for nothing!

First the baby, then the ring 40 years later… hardly worth it, was it?

As ever, life is like a flying dream; if you look down, you’re fucked. Enjoy the ride and fear no one!

_______________________________________________________________________________

©2013-2023 Arvin da Brgha. All Rights Reserved.

By Any Means, We Win!

King_Jigme_Khesar_Namgyel_Wangchuck_(edit)

What William wants, William gets; he is the spoilt, over-indulged man-child, who also happens to be inordinately stupid and lacks awareness in direct contrast to his paternal grandmother, HM The Queen – one only has to recall his behaviour during Sheku Kanneh-Mason’s performance at the 2018 Royal Wedding of the Sussexes which validates this fact.  

What possible strategic import is Bhutan such that TRH Duke & Duchess of Cambridge had to pay the inordinately handsome King a visit?  None!  William bothered and besotted, clearly had to make that journey and realise his public school boy fantasy.  

0_PAY-Albanpixcom

Obsessively controlling, this is the only known photograph of HRH Prince William, Duke of Cambridge with a gun whilst hunting.  A carefully stage-managed persona, which airbrushes out anything that could possibly cast him in a negative light.  Just like when recently stridently denying that there was any bullying on his (William’s) part of Meghan, HRH Duchess of Sussex or that TRH Duke & Duchess of Cambridge could in any way have been party to the campaign of isolation, racially predatory bullying and collusion with the print medium to slander, vilify and drive the American negro from being within the ranks of the senior royals.  

2444881-Princess-Diana-Quote-There-s-no-better-way-to-dismantle-a

Following TRH Duke & Duchess of Cambridge, everyone fell into line and ignored, isolated, excluded and condescendingly gloated, hissed at Meghan, HRH Duchess of Sussex.  The Cambridges, like HRH Prince Andrew, Duke of York and his relations with murdered paedophile Jeffrey Epstein, simply do not relate to or engage with blacks.  Period.  There is no fudging the issue.  As such, they would have seen it as a betrayal on the part of HRH Prince Henry, Duke of Sussex to have gone and wedded a black woman, thereby bringing into their midst, the most undesirable of possible wives. 

_99340428_hi043706897

The Cambridges’ bigotry is precisely why that flat-arsed, no-calved freak, HRH Princess Michael of Kent, felt perfectly justified in wearing the blackamoor brooch to HM The Queen’s annual Christmas Lunch in 2017.  This display would have been a way of currying favour with the toxic 9s (the Cambridges) who head the court at Kensington Palace.  

23441502-7890997-image-a-1_1579108031029

This is precisely why it was contingent on TRH Duke & Duchess of Cambridge visiting his shitty little enterprise, there was pea-brained Amir Khan, claiming to all the world that there is no racism in England; however, you can damn well bet that the blithering jackass certainly thinks that there is Islamophobia in England.  Matters not how the Cambridges run off to Pakistan and find them more desirable than the predominantly black Commonwealth countries’ citizens, radical Muslims are never going to cease fantasising of putting your skull in the small of your back.  So sad to watch the descendants of the world’s greatest empire kiss-arse in a bid not to be hunted by those who will never cease seeing them as the enemy, even in your own land.  Alas, such is the cruel justice that is karma.   

loose-women-2-6877-e1579525806867

Here we have another Asian Briton, running off at the mouth and making absurd inflammatory claims as there is no racism in England.  That is as absurd as any man anywhere, denying that women experience sexism.  If there is no anti-Semitism, no Islamophobia then yes, there is no racism towards blacks.  Obviously, no way Muslim Khans, Amir & Saira, would agree that there is no Islamophobia.  These Asians as they curry favour with whites, just come off looking as latter day house niggers for stridently denying that blacks experience racism.  Just because a Mongolian does not experience anti-Semitism does not meant that anti-Semitism does not exist.  Really sick and tired of all these holier-than-though, non-white, non-blacks, stoking racial divisions by denying racism towards blacks exist, simply because it earns then favoured nation status with people they would, in the case of the Khans et al, readily favour the heads of the same whites, they feign defending, in the small of their backs.  

meghan-markle-prince-harry-christmas-lunch-ftr2

Henry & Meghan attending HM The Queen’s 2017 Christmas Lunch at Buckingham Palace.  

Where pray tell were the Cambridges coming forward at Christmas 2017 and stridently defending Harry and his wife and stating that there was no place in their court for behaviour like that of HRH Princess Michael of Kent.  Yet, there was William having the clueless Amir Khan, pronouncing that there is no racism in England.  Alas, there is no sophistication in the actions of stupid persons.  He said nothing about the brooch incident; however, when your brother and his wife are being run out of England, you get a convenient kiss-arse to come forward and deny racism in England.  

960x0 (1)

As fate would have it, it truly would be poetic justice to have HRH Prince George of Cambridge end up marrying one of the many well-heeled and aggressive Indo-Pakistani families that now see opportunity, what with the American negro crashing the gates of the palace.  Sadly, of course, George will likely end up converting to his wife’s religion in such a scenario and there would go all those centuries of tradition and history.  Just imagine, all the art in Buckingham Palace carted to the courtyard and destroyed like the Buddhist statues in Afghanistan were; thereafter, Buck House become a palatial mosque at the end of the mall  Indeed, fitting karma for a history of warring and slavery; more than that, fitting karma for having bullied, racially preyed on and driven out Meghan that undesirable American negro. 

23648784-7908401-image-a-28_1579550351544

You keep on avoiding those predominantly black Commonwealth countries, though future sovereign thereof; you may yet rue the day your bigotry got the better of you.  Look at the preceding photograph, both Cambridges are hard-faced and sullen, betraying their desire not to be in the company of people like these, who happen to be predominantly black as they are the leaders of Africa at a UK/Africa summit.  All royals with hands clasped as though wanting not to be contaminated by undesirables.  

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Just as at Archie Harrison Mountbatten-Windsor’s christening photograph, William had the same look of disgust and loathing for having to be in the presence of such undesirables… blacks.  

23647926-7908401-image-a-21_1579548427910

Both the Cambridges walking into the salon at Buckingham Palace to meet the predominantly black delegation of African leaders at the reception for the UK/Africa Summit with the faces looking hard, vexed and like thunder; apart from the fact that their marriage is a fractious, hostile waste of time, they are also not holding back on their displeasure at having to engage people about whom they do not give two fucks.  

Prince-William-Jerusalem-980813

All this trip demonstrated, is who William’s advisers are and who he looks up to.  There was no import in a future head of the Church of England, kowtowing to any other religion anywhere.  HM The Queen has never done it; then again, Israel is not a predominantly black Commonwealth nation.  The sad reality is, William could not fathom that to many with a discerning intellect, he looked as ridiculously silly as he found Rev. Curry as he openly ridiculed him to his father during the Royal wedding in 2018 of his brother at St. George’s Chapel in Windsor Castle before his brother’s mother-in-law.  William is an alarmingly clueless chump.   

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Indeed, there were the Sussexes on the eve of the 2019 Remembrance Sunday service in Whitehall with Camilla, HRH Duchess of Cornwall not turning up; she bowed out at the last minute over claims of being under the weather.  Yet, there she was the day following in the balcony in Whitehall next to HM The Queen, looking as prune-faced as ever.  

meghan-markle-visit-womens-shelter-in-vancouver-after-megxit

Well before you knew what next, there was Meghan, HRH Duchess of Sussex emigrated to Canada.  Now that’s more like the Tudor matriarch we know and love; damn right said Meghan, ‘Bitch I’m not your dirty tampon!’  Regardless how that sissy-arsed closet case, Piers Morgan loudly farts from the wrong orifice, Meghan is not a quitter.  Funny how he failed to have stated that though not the star, Meghan did not quit Suits for all of seven years.  Wanna know why pussy-face, because she was not being racially preyed on, disrespected and of all people by persons whom she readily discerned are fucking idiots… to put it delicately.  

Just look at the rabid, racially predatory idiot having to soul-search and claim after Meghan has said, ‘Fuck you, I’m out,’ having to run around and defend that they were never being racist.  If Meghan had not left, you would not be having this debate, rather, you would be continuing on with the same racialised reportage that got you massive advertising revenue.  Well, don’t you worry about it, Americans do not like being treated like shit and they are second to no one.   The days of British actors migrating to America and walking off with awards, awards season after awards season are numbered.  How many American actors from Julliard end up in BBC dramas or anywhere for that matter on British TV or film?  None; it simply never happens!  

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Only a self-assured soul who had been highly placed in the BRF in previous lives and one who played just as pivotal a role as the current sovereign, HM The Queen, could be so strong, indomitable and possessed of a true sense of self.  Yes, indeed, why suffer through decades of being racially preyed on by royal households, royals both minor and senior?  Good of the Sussexes to have gotten out now, in the next decade or two at most, William will likely be sovereign and he and his warring wife are the most ill-equipped persons you can possibly imagine, to carry on the heritage of the current sovereign, HM The Queen.  

Ragland, Doria 2/9/56 Cleveland, Ohio.

Michael: This fragment is a fifth-level mature slave – second life thereat.  Doria is in the perseveration mode with a goal of dominance.  A realist, Doria is in the intellectual part of moving centre. 

Doria’s primary chief feature is impatience and the secondary, stubbornness. 

Doria’s body type is Venus/Saturn. 

The fragment Doria is fifth-cast in the second cadence.  Doria is a member of greater cadence seven.  Doria’s entity is three, cadre six, greater cadre 7 pod 418. 

Doria’s essence twin is a slave and the task companion a priest who is known to her. 

Doria’s three primary needs are: exchange, adventure and power. 

There are 5 past-life associations with Arvin and 6 with Merlin.  ­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­

________________________________________________

As is obvious, Doria is a cadre mate of HM The Queen, her daughter, Meghan, HRH Duchess of Sussex, HRH Prince Henry, Duke of Sussex, Archie Harrison Mountbatten-Windsor and HRH Prince George of Cambridge.  Archie and George are entity mates; however, whereas Archie is the 7th level mature priest, George is a fourth mature king!  The senior Cambridges are in no way connected to any of the aforementioned persons at the level of soul; the former persons, though, share a bond, which would never be marred by anything that the Cambridges would do.   

How’s that for karmic dessert for the bloody savagery you meted out to Africa and her descendants even to this day and which, like the smug cowards you are, will rant up and down, protesting that it has anything to do with race as you lynched HRH Prince Henry and his wife for being a goddamn American negro straight out of Compton.  These people actually get a high out of fucking with blacks and denying to our faces that racism exists.  There is no way in high hell that Piers Morgan would bring a Muslim, Muslim cleric or Jihadist onto his show and take pleasure in fucking with such an individual and claim that there is no such thing as Islamophobia – certainly, his open animus towards Afua Hirsch is standard behaviour towards blacks. 

CHOGM 2018 image 1

In all this high jinks, William and Catherine had not foreseen the ramifications of their grudging, racially predatory behaviour towards Meghan and her husband.  Now that Meghan has taken Harry and her family to Canada, there is HM The Queen’s greatest legacy, the Commonwealth, left in ruins as it is a known fact that neither William nor Catherine have any desire to mix with the predominantly black Commonwealth heads-of-states and definitely they are not the least bit inclined to go visit those nations.  

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Archie was the catalyst for the Sussexes to make their break for North America.  There was Meghan, refusing to play by the rules and when finally she revealed a photo of Archie with his great-grandmother, there were they all looking on adoringly as though he were the messiah.  Further, there was of all things a dread-locked black woman in the photograph and the royal baby’s grandmother no less.  If that were not bad enough, without access to Archie as the Sussexes denied the royal rota for attacking Meghan, they presented him at court to Archbishop Emeritus Desmond Tutu, the very reminder of white privilege not being a given anymore.  There was Archie, a royal baby, being fawned over by that vile attacker of Apartheid as heroic Baroness Thatcher saw him, to say nothing of Nelson Mandela. 

Indeed, Meghan is infinitely smarter than the royal rota realised; this is after all, the same soul who proved the matriarch of the Tudor dynasty.  No messing with Meghan.  Britons with their inferiority complex towards richer, larger, brasher Americans just had to bully, bray and racially prey on the black witch.  Too bad, you never thought that black American woman was going to fight back and pull the rug out from under the bullying royal rota’s feet.  

This couple, possessed of matching numbers, and toxic at that, 9 and 3 are as culpable in Meghan deciding that the best move to save their marriage and sanity was to hell with the Cambridges’ games and get out.  The royal rota is dead and for being in Canada, who could care less what they think? 

Screenshot_20190102-141331

Now the ball is in the powerful royal rota’s court and the The Sun’s racist editor can go stuff a cock in every orifice as he does the bidding of his vile overlord, whose oft-passed-around, Texan escort wife pretty much sums up the lack of integrity associated with that racist behemoth.  Who cares now what Piers Morgan thinks in his daily shrill, race-baiting sniper fire at Meghan and Harry?  All this because it has everything to do with race. 

gettyimages-539417116-1496861804

The Windsors represent the lionisation of white privilege; more than that, they represent the purity of white genetics.  The irony of all this is that almost all European royals invariably descend from HM Queen Victoria, who was directly descended from the very equally black wife as Meghan, Duchess of Sussex of HM, King George III’s, Queen Charlotte.  

Archie Harrison Mountbatten-Windsor is the manifestation of Piers Morgan and all racist Britain’s worse fears.  There is a royal child, who is directly born to the womb of a black woman.  Of course, that black woman would be reviled and become the most lynched black in human history.  Indeed, why should she suffer it; it is madness, has nothing to do with her or reality and as the Sussexes clearly love each other, why subject yourself to such toxicity?  Why be vilified, lied about, openly hated and ridiculed all because you did not give birth to a child who is of pure white heritage.  

prince-harry-archie

This ultimately has nothing to do with Meghan.  Meghan, though, was the crucible of their worse fears realised; the moment you breed with non-whites, you lose your very less than dominant genetic blonde and blue-eyed stock, which of course is widely claimed as superior.  The obvious love this man, HRH Prince Henry, Duke of Sussex has for his wife, Meghan, a black woman and their non-white child is at the heart of the open racially predatory animus these ugly people bear Meghan and her family; yet, these cowardly liars swear up and down that it has nothing to do with race!  

2f38dd785b707152bf49f0c38ed90617

Well here’s another obvious lie of yours, on which your civilisation is based: sorry not buying it – Mary did not lay down and give birth to Christ without once having fucked.  From that one lie, has sprung a culture of lies where everything is based in lies…  right down to trying to deny Meghan, HRH Duchess of Sussex her humanity.  To hell with the royal households, the Cambridges and any other royals who would deny this great eloquent, intellectually and emotionally intelligent woman her rightful human respect. 

5e109e6c954bda3dd74d79f4

Since the institution and its rabid racists could never be expected to change, on realising this, fast enough, one day Meghan looked herself in the mirror, smiled and said, ‘I am much too tall to be made to feel this small.’  Meghan decided to be the change that the House of Windsor needed, ‘Come on H, we are moving to Canada, you are finally going to be emancipated.’  Free at last were they of the toxic brother (William) and his equally toxic wife (Catherine) whom, I might add,  Harry never rejected. 

the-kate-middleton-shrug-1

Let them finally get off their arses and do something remotely looking like work and more importantly, looking like a couple in love…  hyperemesis gravidarum my arse!  Meghan driven out because singly or combined, the Cambridges were outshone by Meghan, indeed, Meghan and Harry. 

Like Charles with Diana, Princess of Wales before them, a petulant, jealous William colluded with his wife and conspired to demonise that black witch.  They had never in a million years envisioned Meghan, upping and abandoning them and their BS.  Look at William in the above clip; he is winded, embarrassed and unfocussed and hardly ever looks up.  Whatever are they going to do?  Meghan pulled a move that they had never seen coming in a million years.  His culpability in the matter is betrayed by his not once cracking a joke, which is his usual approach on taking to the lectern

23672666-7911045-image-a-4_1579601372113

Well, there you are centre stage, as boring as day-old porridge and just as sodden as cardboard left outdoors during monsoon season.  Go on mousy, go on cock-suck that mic and show us how you have found the voice you never had to lose in the first place.  Now Meghan can speak before an audience without having the royal household, directed by the Cambridges, scrub the internet of her speeches, as they did with her eloquent speech to the 2018 British Fashion Awards.  

23650018-7908401-image-a-90_1579553311048

Really you two, what exactly have you won?  Now centre stage, the spotlight will be most unforgiving as it ferrets out who you truly are.  Your collusion with royal rota is up, the beast needs new blood to feast on… and you are it.    

_________________________________________________________________________________

2013-2023 Arvin da Brgha.  All Rights Reserved.  

Finally, The Mouse Has Fucking Roared!

What did I tell you?  I done been sermonising up in here all these long months and then the coalminer’s kinder done let it all hang out.  Getting hot under the collar in the kitchen indeed.  

54fed482acfba83e548bf4a9e58ed020

Now you know, with that one move, all god’s coloured queens done sprained their wrists, hyper-fanning themselves and blew their just-so fascinators clear off their weaved heads, on seeing the crypt-dwelling, muggled mouse-cum-rat roar back.  Twas bound to happen; sooner or later, every rat will resort to cannibalism.  

tiny-details-you-didnt-notice-about-the-royal-wedding-9685436br-REX-shutterstock-760x506

Did you not think it weird that Catherine went and sat her post-partum steely self between Lord Porchie’s minor meat-loving dolt and Camilla – the coolest older royal after The Princess Royal.  As William would have had to get up to bear the rings, it is only natural that Catherine ought to have sat to HRH Prince Charles, Duke of Cornwall’s immediate right, rather than two to his left just beyond his wife, Camilla, HRH Duchess of Cornwall despite what protocol dictates.  

14940666-7154047-image-a-80_1560868032024

Catherine is both a warrior soul and a 9 energy body to the core.  What’s more, she is a fifth-level mature soul and as there is drama at the mature soul age, it is most pronounced when one is fifth-level mature as that level is synonymous with the fifth role in essence, the sage.  Drama is the hallmark of sages, fifthness brings you drama.  Finally, the little squeaking mouse had had enough of playing nice, metamorphosed, becoming a rabid rat who readily roared.  

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Jo Elvin, Alexandra Shulman, Janet Street-Porter, Lady Colin Campbell, Piers Morgan & Stephanie Powers.  

Whatever shall those silly, ninny-arsed fools do now as they have spent the past year, trying to make you and I see nacre where there was none, in what is clearly nothing but faux pearls from Target!  No matter how the persons above slander Meghan, HRH Duchess of Sussex in their bid to suddenly anoint Catherine, HRH Duchess of Cambridge as stylish, having found a voice that she never had to lose in the first place, to being future Queen consort et tout ça; it is all frigging lies, which were shattered with Catherine, HRH Duchess of Cambridge dismissing HRH Prince William, Duke of Cambridge much as she did on the balcony at Buckingham Palace within mere hours of having been wedded on April 29, 2011. 

Numbers do not lie and 9 energy-bodied women are all shrewd, rudely dismissive and crass when it comes to letting you know just where they stand; and for being human, there is no reason why Catherine, HRH Duchess of Cambridge would act any differently. 

the-kate-middleton-shrug-1

giphy

These blasted clowns acting as though we have all been somnambulant these past 8 years.  I don’t care if you want to rebrand her as being able to turn her piss into wine, she, as her numbers dictate and as she indisputably chose to lay bare during Mary Berry’s Christmas TV special, BBC’s A Berry Royal Christmas – which only came about because palace mandarins decided that since that American, Straight Outta Compton wrote the foreword to the Grenfell cookbook Together then a cooking special for the TV masses it is – is no such thing. 

True to her numbers, Catherine just had to let there be no doubt that she ain’t nothing but a damn river rat in true Edward Gorey fashion.  And there were her revisionist enablers, thinking that this Christmas TV special, BBC’s A Berry Royal Christmas, will really show up the object of their vilifying campaign, Meghan, HRH Duchess of Sussex as so passé.  And boy did they ever show her up… Catherine that is!   

pansy-tea-set-blog-pic

That’s right Monty, that’ll be two sugars with my Countess Grey.  

000007e93-Prince_William6

Regardless, Diana, Princess of Wales’ deeply lonely, all scholar souls ever are, emotionally stunted son, HRH Prince William, Duke of Cambridge, does not deserve to be bullied and disrespected.  As has been painfully obvious, this will ever cause him to roam as every emasculating woman has caused her partner to do.  

Prince-William-and-Kate-Middleton-4-640x427

Like Vladimir Horowitz and Wanda Toscanini, who were also task companions, this pair of task companions must also get up to the most vicious nagging and rows imaginable.  You can fool no one, most especially older souls than you!

With Meghan, HRH Duchess of Sussex’s appearance at court, Catherine, HRH Duchess of Cambridge has got reason to live.  Life is all competition for warriors; hell Catherine would compete with a damn fly but not before first plucking one of its wings off.  That maniacal angst of Catherine’s is why the soul who was Tudor matriarch, Margaret Beaufort, later HRH Prince Edward, Duke of York & Albany and now Meghan, Duchess of Sussex chose to have nothing to do with the fire-breathing, ape-bat shit psycho holding court at Kensington Palace; instead, Meghan et famille quite rightly so decamped at Windsor Castle’s Frogmore Cottage.  

22406802-7805503-Prince_Louis_Princess_Charlotte_and_Prince_George_leave_the_Quee-a-1_1576685965949

Look at the two older children; they are growing up in a household where there is clearly massive strain in their parents’ marriage.  There is a lot of discord and rowing afoot and that is readily discernible in the two older children’s faces.  

600x337_wanda_et_vladimir_horowitz_1935_

Wanda Toscanini & Vladimir Horowitz.

Horowitz, Vladimir 1/10/03 Kiev<O>5/11/89, NYC

Michael: This fragment was, in his immediate past life, a mid-cycle mature scholar in passion mode, with a goal of growth, a pragmatist in the moving part of emotional centre. 

Vladimir had a Mercury/Lunar body type. 

Vladimir’s was a strong primary chief feature of arrogance and a weaker secondary of stubbornness. 

This fragment was second-cast in his cadence and his cadence is fifth in the greater cadence.   He is a member of entity five, cadre two, greater cadre 14, pod/node 449. 

He and the fragment who was Wanda Toscanini are task companions, both now discarnate.   The fragment who was Wanda was a fifth level mature warrior. 

Vladimir’s essence twin is a scholar and is incarnate on the physical plane, is female, age seven years.  There are plans for them to complete the mother/son monad in Vladimir’s next incarnation, which will probably occur during the third decade of the next millennium. 

So here was an artisan-cast scholar with a great deal of sage energy, most of which was expended in his personal life.  This fragment’s relationship with his task companion was passionate, explosive and mutually satisfying. 

This scholar’s demeanour in public contrasted greatly with his behaviour in his private life. 

It is interesting to note that this fragment has had only one other life as a practicing musician and that was as an organist at the Chartres Cathedral in the early part of the nineteenth century. 

However, this fragment has a long stage history, beginning in Greece during its Golden Age. 

This fragment also built harpsichords during the latter part of the eighteenth century and actually built one for Leopold Mozart. 

As a highland warrior in the latter part of the seventeenth century, this fragment distinguished himself both on the battlefield and in fashioning bagpipes. 

He was an exemplary soldier in many lives and many guises. 

However, the place where this fragment was most at home was on the stage or behind the scenes. 

_______________________________________________

Like Catherine & William, Vladimir & Wanda were also task companions and also the same mix of Scholar and Warrior souls.  Both women were/are fifth-level mature warrior souls.  I knew a classical musician in NYC in the 1980s and he knew the couple and said they were the most passionate, loud, argumentative and frankly abusive towards each other couple he had ever known.  This is not uncommon territory for task companions; by its very nature, the relationship is about spurring the other into action.  Warrior females in a relationship where they feel themselves not in control, will engage in bullying to assume power of some sort or power as they so deem it.  Catherine, HRH Duchess of Cambridge’s uncouth display, in public no less, during the Mary Berry Christmas TV special, BBC’s A Berry Royal Christmas, speaks to the great stress that William endures and that Catherine has exercised in her bid to gain control in a position which she clearly perceives as tenuous at best.  

prince-william-duke-of-cambridge-and-catherine-duchess-of-news-photo-1571386630

Recently, I got taken to task about my observation that TRH Duke & Duchess of Cambridge refuse to tour predominantly black Commonwealth countries.  They have recently been to Pakistan and have also to date visited India.  Along with that, they have visited Singapore and elsewhere.  The argument was from my dinner partners that, perhaps, the Cambridges do not tour such countries because they are poorer et al.  If only that were true.  Nigeria is the third most populous Commonwealth nation after India and Pakistan and though Nigeria’s GDP is higher than that of Pakistan’s, the argument that they don’t do poorer Commonwealth nations do not hold up, when they have hopscotched over Nigeria and toured less populous Singapore whose GDP is also less than that of Nigeria’s.  Again, I hang tough, their combined numerological 9s, are precisely why the Cambridges have to date chosen not to tour any predominantly black Commonwealth nation.  That certainly does speak volumes about them and in particular William and his enabler in that regard, Catherine.   

20715098-7659353-image-a-295_1573126850377

Demonise TRH Duke & Duchess of Sussex and their family all they want, whilst portraying the Cambridges as the embodiment of wholesomeness and regal class.  Be that as it may, the Cambridges have been fractious where the Sussexes never have been.  No matter how the print medium race-bait the public into loathing the Sussexes, theirs comparably is a happy marriage and that at the end of the day, is why Catherine, rather than Meghan, seethes at having to be touched by her spouse.  Catherine is a toxic 9 writ large and no amount of sugar-coating ya-ya from the DailyMail and its racist trolls will ever be able to gloss over the froideur Catherine exhibited at Mary Berry Christmas TV special, BBC’s A Berry Royal Christmas, towards HRH Prince William, Duke of Cambridge.  

Street-rat

That is no mouse, it is a damn river rat! So you know, two rats will have a million offspring in a mere 18 months, most of which will be cannibalised to keep themselves fed and nourished.  So very wise of the Sussexes to stay clear of that rabid, to say nothing of haunted, toxic and dense-energied lair where the Cambridges hold court, Kensington Palace.  

_______________________________________________________________________

©2013-2023 Arvin da Brgha.  All Rights Reserved.  

4.3.4 = 11

mini meghan2

Meghan, HRH Duchess of Sussex has the most masterful numbers. She does, indeed, have master numbers: 11. Look at those eyes, the eyes of Queen Mother, to HM King Henry VI, grandmother to HM King Henry VIII and great-grandmother to HM Queen Elizabeth I. She has staying power, thanks to those double 4s and with an attitude of 3, she is renowned for being most articulate and a skilled communicator of the message.

4 – focussed, solid, self-made, resolute, inner-directed, reincarnated with an agendum.

3 – attitude of 3 – gracious living, the great communicator, when one speaks others listen. There is only win-win, failure is never an option for these persons. Incidentally, Ben Mulroney is an attitude of 3, which is why he is a gracious interviewer – non-confrontational. Also, I have noticed that a lot of persons who planned a life in the public sphere tend to have 9 and 3 in their make up, as in both HRH Prince William, Duke of Cambridge and his lovely wife, Catherine, HRH Duchess of Cambridge. Incidentally, these three persons, Ben and the Cambridges would have been very relaxed in each others company and true to her 9 energy body, Catherine would likely have made a dig at her husband along the lines, ‘He certainly has a great head of hair…’ As it is perfectly naturally for straight men to be attracted to each other, they would not be human if they did not, both men would have been pleasantly warmed by the other’s make-up with their similar 9 and 3. Catherine and Ben both are 9 energy body; they would have found each other more than passingly fascinating. Catherine is a warrior which means that she will always be steely; as for Ben, don’t know his overleaves but I am guessing that he is more so on the expression axis rather than not – an artisan or sage soul. In my experience, whereas 9 women can be extremely rude and dismissive, 9 men are reserved and not given to readily passing judgment.

20714064-7659353-image-a-185_1573125738623

There is also the matter of Catherine, HRH Duchess of Cambridge being in perseverance mode, which is as unrelenting a foe as you can ever imagine, on top of which she is a warrior. This woman was born to be Queen Consort and that’s the end of that, there will be no Camilla rewriting the script. Interestingly enough, both Diana, Princess of Wales’ sons are wedded to very strong women – as well they should be. In both cases, both couples are entity mates, which is as good a partnering as one can hope for. Meghan, however, with double 4s and master number of 11 is here to rule as when previously she had as Queen Mother and Tudor dynasty matriarch.

meghan geniture

Not only is 11 a master number but it also leaves all such persons lone wolves, regardless how popular they are. This explains why Meghan, HRH Duchess of Sussex will faster-than-a-sneeze dispense with persons when need be. And yes, she has every damn right to be done with the blasted dreck that do not know the meaning of family: honour, fealty, discretion. I am, where the master number 11 is concerned, just such a person… 2.1.8 = 11. Of course, like Catherine, HRH Duchess of Cambridge that attitude of 1 means that I am more inclined to be shy and reserved than ‘on’. At least that was the rule when Merlin was incarnate and we were together. Now, more of the 11 comes to the fore and I simply give two-fucks and sound off loudly and most articulately.

20715098-7659353-image-a-295_1573126850377

Recently, owing to a host of prickly transits, to say nothing of the mercury retrograde, I have found myself beset with some entanglements that have provoked the less polished side of my Venus/Uranus conjunction. This all began around the time that I wrote the blog about that blasted tarbaby frog finally showing his true colours. I had no less than 8 French Canadians getting up in my business, demanding that I delete aforementioned blog and that these were the indiscretions of youth. Bitch please! After having lived in Montréal for seven years with the best task companion/comrade-in-arms an equally seventh level mature soul, though, she a warrior, we gave as good as we got. Of course, said warrior became my wife at Palais du Justice on Bob Marley’s birthday in 1999. Today, we remain the best of friends and she now he, has a fully beard than I have ever sported…. alas, I digress. A couple of weeks ago, I was being regaled by my sister who lives in Nevis about my mother’s cousin whose funeral it was that day. She died at age 107 and was attended by quite the turn out with le tout Nevis’ elites in tow. Though I have never met, her great-granddaughter was part of the descendants who eulogised the grand dame; that great-granddaughter was Mel B (Scary Spice) of Spice Girls fame. I have though several times met my fathers cousin, the inimitable and truly regal, Cicely Tyson, wife of Jazz genius, Miles Davis a man who did not gladly suffer people who hate him or his race…. as well he damn ought to have.

20719044-7659353-image-m-375_1573133789631

As I entered the little school in my neighbourhood, a spry spirit who always is good for a laugh, beamed on seeing me as he sat on his scooter with equally situated mates and inquired, “And who will you be voting for?” to which I shot back, “You can damn well bet it won’t be for no blasted motherfucking, cocksucking tarbaby-arsed frog!” raucous laughter peppered the air as I went in and voted conservative for the first time in my life. Enough of that sissy-arsed twat, who is nothing more than Modi’s pappishow with his displaced femme au foyer, fag-hag frau, Madame Plotte-Visage herself, who looks more and more each day like Tammy Faye Bakker. You don’t like black people… go fuck yourself… god only knows, you did not invent Jazz!

Days earlier en route home with my little suitcase in tow, I got up off the bench to take the Wellesley 94 bus eastbound to my art-filled lair. The bus pulled in and queerly parked such that the back door was a good three feet away – I have never seen the appeal of metric… nothing beats knowing whether you are dealing with 9.5 or 10.5 inches! Though my suitcase was too heavy, I was prepared to step off the platform to make for the rear doors, yet, the doors did not open. Finally, I joined the Dravidian male who had been waiting to board the rear doors as well. When I got to the front door, noisily pulling my suitcase, I looked up stunned as the doors slammed shut just as I was getting ready to board. The doors then opened after the driver looked at me with a smug smirk creasing her lizard-lipped face. I got in and as ever, I said thank you. As I progressed towards the double seats by the rear door, the bus suddenly broke, causing me to lurch forward. Taking it all in stride, I opted not to assume anything by this trio of events which most blacks would see after the third incident as being racially provocative. Up the couple of steps I got with my heavy suitcase; this only made me realise my advancing years as suddenly the urge to pee came on. I had switched from Bleu par Chanel a couple of years back when senior leak suddenly meant that after five minutes Bleu fades and gives way to god forbid that most malodourous of bouquets: loud-smelling, dribbled piss. Now it is Christian Dior’s Sauvage as the scent lingers and dissipates any provoked thoughts of raunchy water sports.

Having made my way to the back seat, there were all told less than a dozen souls on the bus. On arriving at the first stop from the station, the driver got up at Church Street. I thought that there must be someone wheelchair bound, trying to board, hence she got from her seat to assist. As I was otherwise engaged in thoughts libidinal and what I’d like to do with that burly mesomorph at work, whose woman just upped and left him, I remained focussed on artisan channels 3 to 5 instead. Just then, I noticed the bus driver step up the two steps and make it towards me, seated at the centre of the bus’ long back seat. Leaning her, her nasty-looking perm straight out of the 90s, she gruffly barked at me in a manner that suggested that couth had ever been foreign to her. “Look, everybody has bad days okay. There’s no need to swear at me.” I said nothing, looking instead past her as the thought occurred to me that the bus was being driven by duppy incarnate. Since my name ain’t Shaneequa, I remained calm and looked up at a face warped uglier by rage, which I also found uncomfortably too close. I was hemmed in. “Get off my bus or I call the police!” As I chose to say nothing or move a single muscle, she got even more incandescent with irrationally unprovoked rage, “That’s it get off my bus now, I’m calling the police!” As she turned to walk away, it gave a good look at her flat-arsed, no-calved god fugly hideousness and I got up and began making it for the bus’ front doors. As I slowly strode for the front doors, I expertly memorised her bus ID and every detail of slender hipped, extra-vertebrae-looking alien body and realised that she was likely trans; either way, just then a definite non sequitur. For once, I said nothing on exiting and as I really needed to pee, thought of hailing a cab when noticing another bus directly in back of the scene of my misadventure. I got aboard, said hello to the driver, a guapo Filipino and grabbed a seat on the even less populated bus. Also, I memorised the ID information associated with his bus. On exiting the bus, as per usual, I said thanks and exchanged pleasantries. As soon as I got situated at home, with Buster on my lap purring away, I took to the TTC’s site and chose the tab that allows for filing complaints. In exquisite detail, as well you are I shared what occurred and confidently knew that at no point would any of the bus’ cameras capture me saying anything to the female driver. She is, as per her contract, never to leave her seat nor confront a passenger. I have never seen her since.

Well in the grip of Mercury retrograde, I strolled into one of many little joints which I love frequenting as I like chatting with the proprietors and in the process, giving them my business. On close to a decade of frequenting this particular store, where I picked up a lottery ticket or two, my bike was leaning against the row of sugary treats, I turned just in time to see an old weathered hag out on Yonge Street beadily gawking in and cutting her hateful eyes at me. Possessed of some right afforded her by god only knows fuck-all whom – the blasted motherfuck, she bounded into the store, well into her ninth decade and looking and smelling of ill-health and poverty, “Get that goddamn bike outta here.” I was wearing my helmet with lights attached front and back in broad daylight as one does. Without so much as missing a beat, I launched into her with a ferocity, she likely had never before encountered, which is why she felt perfectly entitled to take such liberties. “Get your fucking ugly arse out of here, go the fuck to Wal-Mart make your way to the back of the store and tell them I sent you to put a down paying on your fucking casket as you are obviously too fucking poor to afford to die all this time…” Never having had her racially predatory behaviour challenged before, she stood there suddenly catatonic. “Go on, here you go, start that fucking down paying today…” with that, I tossed the few coins in my pocket at her feet and barged on in full throttle loud, vituperativeness. “Pick it the fuck up, high time your fucking ugly, broke arse and casket were lowered into the ground. Come in here opening your motherfucking lizard-lipped mouth, barking at me. Pick it the blasted motherfuck up and crawl the fuck in your casket.” She tried to weakly say something to which I kept up my defense against being racially preyed on, “Shut up and die, go on… scoot. There’s no need for your fuck-all ugly, broke arse, smelly cunt hanging around… get the fuck off the planet.” Never ever during a mercury retrograde will this venus-uranus leo hold his tongue when being racially preyed on. Faster than the loudest sneeze, I rammed my fist up her rotting arse, yanked and ripped at her calcified soul, pulled it out, wiped arse with it, then slapped her silly in the face before making her gag on a soul being held hostage by her useless maudlin existence. I have become so less inclined to tolerate this perpetual abuse which we as blacks endure on a daily basis yet pretend as though it does not exist. There are, though, times when you need to protest. Back in 1988 after meeting Wayne Robson’s firstborn, as I moved south down the west side of Bond Street to go visit Merlin at St. Michael’s Hospital who was suffering his first bout of AIDS-related pneumocystis, I screamed at the top of my lungs at an old Caucasian female who on noticing me began hurriedly crossing to the east side of Bond, “I don’t want your fucking handbag…” Never ceases to amaze the arsenal of behaviour that non-blacks project onto us as they get their racially predatory fix: sniffing, outright ridicule, dragging feet, yawning, bumping into you, blowing cigarette smoke in your direction… those are the passive racially predatory acts. More often, it is like that act in the convenience store, so racially obsessed that one feels oneself perfectly entitled to project that ignorance in a malicious, accusatory, bullying manner towards blacks. Indeed, ever notice the inordinate number of overweight blacks; they like all persons who were sexually preyed on in their early years more often than not develop eating disorders.

With Meghan, HRH Duchess of Sussex’s lynching daily in print media, social media and just about everywhere else, I have become increasing intolerant of any and all such BS. Do not because I am black start, apropos of fuck-all nothing, braying about how much you hate and can’t stand that Meghan bitch as if the blasted fuck these arsewipes know the woman. Out of the blue someone whom I thought had long made the only logical move viable to her sorry arse and crawled into her casket, called up trying for the nth time to get me to start today and join that pyramid scheme of hers for which she is ever travelling to some rah-rah seminar and on the cusp of getting rich yet still ain’t and needs you to join this very day; this, I can assure you, is about as appealing as trying to get me to bed some moneyed old fuck with a micro penis and bad breath. Nah… I’m all about the dharma.

Last summer everyone called up, demanding to know if I were not going to the Raptors championship parade. Hell no! Crowds you say… not happening. The day of the parade, I kept being called up by excited friends, asking me if I was watching and wasn’t it phenomenal. Very matter of factly, I declared to one, “When these fucking Goys do Yom Kippur, they certainly do know how to go all out.” Of course, after having explained myself days later at a dinner party, the point was well taken. This is a country with soft ethnic cleansing of blacks: negative immigration and population growth, a entrenched history of employment discrimination, which sees blacks being ghettoised in casual positions in the work place, especially at crown corporations (government-owned) – I have worked at two: Canada Post and the Toronto Convention Centre; in the case of the former, I arrived in Montréal from Vancouver to find myself the first full-time black in the work place; as fighting is nothing but foreplay in my books, I organised a lone Haitienne and got her to file a Human Rights complaint which she won. This resulted in back pay and all the mostly Haitian blacks awarded full-time and back pay where they had served as casual for 5, 10, 15 years. Naturally, the messenger/lightning rod always comes into someone cross-hairs. At one point, where they tried firing me the local union president told me to go to hell and go back to Canada; thus, I ventured into my firing interview with a lawyer in tow – had never happened before and was not then fired after multiple frantic calls to Ottawa to find out how to deal with him. Before being fired, that blasted porcine pequiste fucker decided to avail himself of my tax dollars by running in the federal election, thankfully he did not win but when he tried two years later, I wrote to Jack Layton who had frequented our Cabbagetown home in the 80s when we lived next door to a rather parvenu and highly snobbish Alfred Sung and informed Mr. Layton that if he did not withdraw that vile racist, my lawyer and I would go to the media and expose him – the letter of course was cced to all the other federal party leaders. In the end, the Bloc Quebecois thanked me for the letter and ran a black Haitienne in the riding from which the union head was summarily dropped and that Haitienne, Ms. Bardot won her seat, only to be replaced in Papineau riding by that blasted, racist tarbaby-arsed frog… but I digress. Two million persons cheering on black excellence when this is a country that actively eradicates any participation of blacks in its cultural fabric – hello JazzFM where you would be dismissed as stupid for thinking that Jazz is black culture. Sure, there are window-dressing blacks in the TV medium but they are not the norm. Not a single prominent Canadian protested and demanded that the vile racist politician resign when his blackface past emerged. Naturally, his people stridently argued in his defense. Would that these ungrateful fucks who hold the country to ransom would finally fuck off and leave. No one outside of Québec, who does not work in the government, is remotely bilingual. Seven years of living in Montréal made one thing perfectly clear: theirs, by its sheer ubiquity is nothing more than a northern confederate flag… and they certainly are possessed of unapologetic xenophobia. The only people deserving of having a party in the Canadian parliament, which not all Canadians can vote for, are the First Nations and Inuit peoples.

Back in late 1982 whilst Merlin and I held up in the Trockadero loft in Manhattan’s Chelsea on Sixth Avenue below 23rd Street, I got in one evening after looking at rehearsal of the Nanette Bearden Dance Company, to find Merlin having dinner and strategising with Jim Henson. As they shared the same agent, Joyce Ketay, they were prepping and throwing around ideas for how to thematically film the series, Fraggle Rock which would be shot in the coming new year in Toronto at CBC’s studios. Merlin had made his favourite dish a chicken paprikash which John Hirsch had taught him. Joining them, I dug in to what was my favourite of Merlin’s prepared meals. I will always remember Jim saying, “first you start with a compliment and then you hang back and listen, listen to what’s said but most of all, what is not said…” Sage advise that I have always followed. What I love about us artisan souls is that we always reveal our nature and the fact that we input on five channels whenever we speak. Listen to Naomi Campbell in her acceptance speech for the CFDA Icon Award. Straight out of left field in the tenth minute, she remarks, “God my lips are dry… sorry.” No other soul but an artisan soul would shift subjects so abruptly so seamlessly and carry on without so much as missing a beat. This quirk of ours, mine, Naomi, Meghan and every last artisan soul who has ever breathed, makes for a master tactician and someone not easily understood or shaken. With a destiny number that proves master numbers like Meghan, HRH Duchess of Sussex, she is a 11 – she is a diamond through and through and why HRH Prince Charles, Prince of Wales refers to her as Tungsten.

As ever, life is like a flying dream; if you look down, you’re fucked. Enjoy the ride and fear no one!

___________________________________________________________________________________

©2013-2023 Arvin da Brgha. All Rights Reserved.

The Day After the Night that Was.

20181111_073750

By now the effects of the stewed fruit at breakfast has seen my waist shrink; I am grateful.  The morning after the night that was, I am still elated and humming away that catchy melody from Ludwig Minkus’ greatly composed ballet.  

20181117_093412

After breakfast I decamped at Leicester Square where it was time to enjoy the bright, cool sunlight and catch a movie.  The Vue cinemas are rather interesting; I was keen to know if I would have a repeat of what had transpired last winter. 

f26b7046508219.58579b8d72341

Back then, I was upstairs at the same cinemas watching, Darkest Hour, which proved a real tour de force performance from Gary Oldman.  Sat in the back row, soon I became bloated and expansive.  Though not the least bit drowsy, I felt wide-open and lucidly self-aware.  Next, as the film progressed, I watched as several pure white humanoid forms simply stood up and walked to the sides and quite seamlessly walked through the very real walls of the cinema.  

fantastic-beasts-poster-1-700x1037

One of the things that Merlin and I always loved doing, was seeing a film during its opening weekend.  Naturally, so close to the anniversary of his passing, I was keen on seeing a film.  J. K. Rowling is among my favourite contemporary writers and having seen the first film in this series, it only made sense to go.  

Whilst waiting for the cinema to open, I caught a series of items; all are favourite actors of mine, especially Sir Kenneth Branagh.  

20181117_095155

The first screening of the day was a special affair with about one third of the theatre occupied.  A lovely Chinese couple sat to my right with their precocious son of about ten years stuck between them.  We chatted briefly and I thought it so strange that conversation with strangers is almost unheard of when attending a Canadian movie.  

20181117_093248

I emerged into the crisp Saturday morning in Leicester Square a bit teary eyed as thoughts of Merlin at one point during the film overwhelmed me.  It was after all the eve of his passing some 29 years earlier.  

20181117_093801

Slipping inside this tiny joint – I always favour hole-in-the-world, ma-n-pa joints, I got a couple of really good slices of pizza whilst pouring through the Times of London.  There was conversation close by, which struck me as interesting; it went from Theresa May and Brexit to Meghan, HRH Duchess of Sussex.  I soon realised that both persons were openly criticised chiefly for being women; in the case of the Ms. May, she is dismissed and not taken seriously chiefly for being female.  As for Meghan, like every woman who marries into the BRF, she is readily reviled, though, some of this has bordered on racial hysteria and seriously threatening.  

20181111_143226

In a bid to cleanse my very soul, after all that, I slipped from Leicester Square for the uplifting sophistication of the National Gallery where I deftly moved through my favourite salons with usual mercurial speed, taking the time to pause and admire the key works of art that bring me the greatest pleasure.  

20181117_212811

Well, after all that art, it was time for more prowling the decidedly unCanadian wintry streets of London.  Along Shaftesbury, I strode my Crockett & Jones booted and blistered feet into Neal Street where my favourite hippy-dippy (as Merlin would remark) New Age store, The Astrology Shop in Covent Garden.  Though, it most definitely does not have the best choices, I still love the feel of the place and their sagebrush collection is second to none.   

20181117_150421

Along with marvellous pieces of crystals and a wonderful Citrine, I really connected with this gorgeous agate ring.  The moment that I saw it, I really resonated with me and it felt so right. 

20181119_174829

After a rather warm conversation with a green-eyed, redhead, she was fascinated by my custom Reuben Mack messenger bag.  

20181114_114933

I then headed back to The British Museum for more shopping.  As it was the weekend, there was now a sizeable lineup to gain entry.  As though my impatience with crowds were not enough but soon, I had two Torontonian women doing what Canadians do best; they spent much of their time gawking at me, talking about me and cultural appropriation for wearing the custom Reuben Mack messenger.  Standing there in line, I was reminded of what petty, small-minded bigoted jackasses the average Canadian can be and god do they love being openly racially predatory towards blacks. 

thumbnail_20181216_054733

Never once had I experienced a scintilla of racial animus from a Briton or for being in London to that point; there you have it, the land where racism is enshrined in law: employment equity law of Canada: All employers must employ, Caucasians, First Nations persons, Disabled persons and visible minorities and therein is the framework of Canada’s own form of Apartheid – state sanctioned racism.  All employers, in particular crown corporations (government agencies – federal and provincial) employ visible minorities to the exclusion of blacks and if and when they do employ blacks, they then hire blacks only as casual workers which means they are not entitled to benefits, pension and guaranteed hours.  

20181117_145347

So smugly established is this state of affairs that the current prime minister refused to attend the 50th anniversary of Caribana – the nations West Indian community’s gift to Canada on its 100th birthday in 1967; however, he attends ever Gay pride parade in the same city as Caribana, Toronto, and has repeatedly been to India, to dress up and act a right clown because who gives a damn about blacks in Canada.  As one friend said, blacks over the past three decades have become as marginalised as First Nations persons.  But enough about aggressive young souls and their racialised worldview.  Meanwhile, as they were openly rude towards me whilst queueing to enter the British Museum, I grabbed my phone and pretended to film them to which one of them suddenly became enraged, demanding that I not film her…  You have to laugh or truly you would go mad.  In any event, I got the feisty Buster a nice but scary Egyptian stuffed cat – he is actually afraid of it.  

thumbnail_Screenshot_20181216-060809

On my return to the hotel, a couple of blocks from The British Museum, I slumped into bed and decided that my aching feet needed a break from the rest of the day’s planned events.  To that end, I stayed in that night rather than return to Barbican Hall to catch a celebration of the Windrush Migration.  At that concert were to have been Calypso Rose and The Mighty Sparrow; though it had been years since last seeing either performer, I just was not into it.  Moreover, I wanted to take the time to be with myself and reflect on the eve of Merlin’s passing some 29 years earlier.  

20181114_122344

As ever, thanks for your ongoing support and ever remember to push off and start flying.  

___________________________________________________________________________________________

©2013-2023 Arvin da Brgha.  All Rights Reserved.  

Shopping @ British Museum.

20181114_070840

On the occasion of HRH Prince Charles, Prince of Wales’ 70th birthday, the sunrise was the most glorious display of apricot orange, manseport orange and blood orange tonalities.  So ravishing was it that I had to get up from the breakfast table in the hotel and take a few shots, threw them up onto Instagram feed, where other Londoners whom I follow also featured the glorious sunrise.  

Ralph Heimans Charles

HRH Prince Charles, Prince of Wales by Ralph Heimans,  Charles @ 70.

Charlew en famille

Charles en famille… beautiful.  

Charlew en famille2

HRH Prince Charles, Prince of Wales @ 70.  

Though the plan this day was to go out to Richmond and visit Hampton Court Palace, as I had develop not one but two blisters – one per foot – I decided to postpone it until the weekend.  

20181114_113923

I always love the look of this stately edifice that looks as though it would be right at home in India, I turned and took a few shots as I entered Russell Square park.  

20181114_113927

Lovely, what was even more glorious was the sound of leaves sounding like crisp, ruffled bedding as I confidently strode through the park.  

20181114_114117

Though in the upper teens, I enjoyed the sight of four guys in their late 20s rushing through this fountain in Russell Square; the water must have been freezing.  They certainly appeared to be having great fun.  

20181114_114930

Yes, I was come to pass yet another glorious visit at The British Museum.  With each visit, there is always some new discovery.  Walking along, en route to the gift shop, I was stopped by a man named Felix; he complimented me on my Dorothy Grant messenger bag and as we began speaking, I soon recalled a dream had more than two decades earlier when then living in Vancouver. 

20181114_114933

Felix was the subject of the dream and twenty-three years earlier, I had been the one to walk up from behind and stop him, engaging him in conversation.  As you never want to come off sounding like you are on really bad drugs or a cheap player, I resisted to urge to share having previously dreamt of him.  

20181114_122628

What coffee table books to buy this trip.  I had been en route to the bookstore, after abruptly taking leave of the stately Grenville Room.  I had discovered a piece of jewellery, which I had previously dreamt of.  I knew straight away that I wanted to have it; however, the Dravidian sales clerk incredulously replied that they were for display purposes.  I had asked him to open the case so that I could inspect the exquisite amber necklace.  Naturally, he by his response implied that I could not afford it and was likely a damn thief.  

20181114_122412

From there, I went to take in the Elgin Marbles and enjoyed seeing them yet again.  The crowds, though, were a bit distracting.  Feeling unresolved about the matter and because I really wanted to look at that amber necklace, I returned to the Grenville Room Gift shop.  

20181114_124423

As I approached, a pleasantly smiling clerk whom previously I had not noticed, came from the entrance to the gift shop and said hello.  He diplomatically asked if I had found everything that I was looking for; as it was not worth wasting time on a petit clerk who did not matter, I told him that there were a couple of items that I wanted to take a look at.  A more gracious host there could not have been. 

20181114_130942

In the end, I got the necklace which came pretty close to the one in the dream, which to make that dream come true, I was intent on gifting it to the ever elegant wearer in the dream.  This man spent nearly forty-five minutes, finding five sets of earrings to go with the lovely necklace and finally we narrowed the choice down to two pairs; he even got a small light so that the amber earrings chosen would be the closest match to the necklace. 

20181114_131028

A font of information and anecdotal gems, he then insisted that I go and tour the King’s Library, which I had previously never toured.  Yes, indeed, knowing what a rascal his son was, HM King George III had his entire library donated to the British Museum so that HM King George IV on his passing, would not go selling off his father’s priceless heirlooms to buy furniture or whatever else.  

20181114_200714

As the sales clerk, with a more than passing resemblance to milliner Stephen Jones escorted me to the Grenville Room’s rear entrance into the King’s Library, the Dravidian who had thrown so much shade my way and not served me, I paused to look at, then dismissively down at the floor with the British Museum bag with more than 500£ of sales and its commission, which he had allowed his stupid ignorance to steal from himself.  Yes, indeed, I promised the bald pleasant clerk that I would return to Fortnum & Mason and hunt down some rose petal jelly.  

After an initial tour of the King’s Library and a lunch of too much pasta with two glasses of prosecco whilst charging my phone, I then returned and took this video.  Clearly, from all that huffing, I had too much to eat.  Finally after more than six hours at the British Museum, I ambled out into the late afternoon and enjoyed walking about Bloomsbury.  

As ever, thanks for your ongoing support and happy holidays… here’s to your every dream coming true.  

20181114_133105

________________________________________________________________________________________

©2013-2023 Arvin da Brgha.  All Rights Reserved,  

Magus Maharaja Holds Court.

Image

As the stately Moon drifted on its transit through Aries and thus my eleventh house, I would – whilst I serenely slept – experience the most exquisite glimpse into Merlin’s spirit.  It was one of the most lucidly engaged dreams had in long ages.

Of course, it was Monday, April 11, 1994.  This was a dream encounter with Merlin not soon forgotten.  It was, in fact, the second dream that day.  

__________________________________________________

Next, I was ushered inside this large beautiful hall that was columned by the princely Maharaja.  Here it was a cream-coloured, slightly tan marble structure.

From outdoors, wonderful streams of dappled sunlight flooded the interior.  Whilst moving through the gracious palace, I passed a dozen or more beautiful saried ladies.

All of them were tall and beautifully dark – in that gorgeous Dravidian manner.  However, these were more mythic archetypes than aristocrats, courtesans.

Their saris were saffron-coloured, some with hues of peach, all of them beautifully flowing fine fabrics.  In what were the finest silks imaginable, somehow, there seemed to be actual light woven into the fabrics.

There was a lot of gold jewellery here, as a matter of fact, everywhere on their person.  They did, though, seem none-too-thrilled at my presence.

At a low table, which was beautifully set, we were next seated on silken cushions.  Lots of fine wares: gold and brass, were among them.

The light flooding into the place caused everything to become imbued, in the true sense of the word, with a glowing hue which was ethereal.  Everything here seemed to zing at a higher frequency, for being infused with this magical starlight, which merrily flooded into the palatial salon.

The Maharaja, who had been our host, was immediately familiar as well as warm and good to be around.  He had the most handsome, soulful smiling eyes.  He sat directly across from me and we were not seated at the heads of the long table.

To my left was a very beguiling, genuinely yellow-eyed beauty.  She was nubile and immensely arousing.  I wanted to fuck this woman from the moment that I laid eyes on her.

She was, in fact, the hostess who sat across the table from the Maharaja – she was clearly his Maharani.  Seated on the opposite side of the table the Maharaja seemed totally transcendent.

Indeed, this man was so elevated that he needn’t have eaten of the food – so long was he removed from being in the body.  His was an august, truth be told, fixed gaze that was the most hypnotic.

Sitting there, he directly looked across and into me.  He paid attention to no one else.  I could feel the warm caress of his mind’s touch as he became telepathically harmonised with me.

He knew exactly everything that was going on in my mind.  He was a most utterly beguiling man.  His were the energies of a truly evolved individual.  He had a large robust, though softening, body which was rather Zen-energied.

Too, the ease with which he had slipped into my mind bespoke a great intimacy which we have shared over several lifetimes.  Whilst he sat opposite me, grounding me, on his side of the table were all the other mythic-looking saried women along with some truly princely-looking gentlemen.

The one feature of all these persons was the beautifully haunting silence in which they sat here whilst we took a meal in their presence.  Seeing the Maharaja reminded me of Merlin.

Observing the maharaja was akin to when looking across the magic carpet-like platforms, as we sat in lotus position in a circle, during the final dream on Friday, July 9, 1993.  There was no getting around the fact that the maharaja bore a connection to Merlin.

Meanwhile, the Maharani was graciously lowering her beauteous head just-so.  At the time, she was eating and had done so in order to whisper instructions to me.

She discretely shared the finer points of dining etiquette when in their rarefied milieu.  This meal involved a great deal of ritualised behaviour throughout.

I was astounded by the array of gold being used here: the goblets, jugs and plates.  This proved to be one of the most lavish multi-coursed meals that I had ever partaken of.

Lots of beautiful blooms dreamily floated, perfuming the air, in gold bowls of water.  Some were purple, others yellow, whilst some pink blooms; they sat in bowls which were placed along the centre of the table’s considerable length.

This was terribly refined beyond the extraordinary.  Naturally, there was no flatware which, had there been, would doubtless have been made of the same yellow-white gold.  Whenever the Maharani had spoken to me, she had lowered her head and smiled exposing those beautiful compacted teeth.

Beguilingly, from behind her smile’s alluring façade, she had given clipped directives.  She was never impatient with me, either.  The food was spiced ever so delicately, seeming more so like Chinese – Szechuan or even Japanese cuisine – rather than East Indian.

Either way, this fare had a bite to it that was truly sublime.  I had taken a bite of some deep-fried fish which had proven mind-expansive.

The subtlety of the seasonings, and the degree to which each spice had been cooked into the fish, was truly phenomenal.  She discreetly told me not to get ahead with myself thereby, ending up eating the wrong dishes or at least, eating something before it was meant to be eaten.

There were lots of chutneys being used here.  Goodness it is simply not possible to convey, in this medium, how utterly refined the seasonings and the overall ambiance of this meal was.

Rarely does one get to be in such refined company.  Truly, these were highly evolved persons.  Nonetheless, their wealth was not a mercantile state of affairs.

Rather they were wealthy, surrounded by all this exquisite refinement, as it accurately reflected their state of soul evolvement.  Truly refined were they.

There was nothing classist or elitist about this august company in which I found myself.  To avert embarrassment for me, she had reached forward for something from a dish and thereby cut me off in the process.

As she foiled my none-too-couth display, she had rapidly told me not to take another piece of the fish.  It had not been meant to be eaten just then during the meal’s many courses.

What could I have cared?  This was the most glorious of experiences.  Indeed, this meal and refined company were truly music for the soul.

I had been so ravenous.  I so wanted to have another piece of fish for so good was it.  Seemingly, one was expected to take but one bite of each dish.

This was about showing control, about being able to then move on to the next dish, even though one was dying for more of the last dish.  Control, discipline and grace – these were the hallmarks of this ritual dining experience.

Distantly, the strains of strings came wafting through the air and were laced with the sweet fragrance of jasmine, oleander and sandalwood incense.  All along the length of the table, plumes of incense hypnotically danced into the air.

There were times, when it was hard to make out the eyes of my host which were so immediate and so familiar.  His were eyes which had an uncanny resemblance to those of Merlin’s.

Flames also burnt at the centre of the table heating up and cooking some of the dishes.  In one instance, a large flame suddenly rose up between the Maharaja and me.

As if I had not known or noticed the resemblance before now, for the first time, the magical flames caused a phantom of Merlin’s face to dance through the fiery veil.  I was astonished yet not surprised.

All that I had been feeling was, in one flicker of the suddenly rising flame, being validated.  The flame had served to sear away layers and dimensions, as if so many lifetimes were being wiped clean, to reveal the residue of the individual Merlin whom I had most intimately known.

Though revelatory, the flames also served as the barriers – dimensional barriers – which now separated us.  Though Merlin, he was now more than Merlin had ever been.

Lifetimes and dimensions impassably stood between us.  Nonetheless, there was a knowing and connectivity there which could never have been extinguished.

There was something primal, magical even, about the flames.  The ever gracious Maharaja had not quivered one iota, though they had suddenly shot up into the air, when the rising plume of fire had roared to life between us.

There he sat radiant and more focussed and intense as though, somehow, he had magically affected the flame’s uproar.  His cool betrayed that of only one other human being that I have ever known – Merlin’s.

Suddenly, he was illumined.  Perhaps, there had been a light breeze wafting a silken curtain, just off the colonnade or even the movement of piece of polished gold on the table.

Whatever it was, the light struck him just-so.  For the first time, without the flame’s effect, there was no mistaking the fact that here across from me sat the soul of the man who had recently been Merlin.

The shaft of light had fallen in back of him, off to the right and rear, bouncing off so many surfaces.  The effect that it had, from where I sat, was that of creating what seemed like a halo, an icon, about the head of a princely maharishi.

Unmistakably, there was an aura of mysticism about him which clearly had been hinted at before.  Seated there, my lips quivered, as I experienced sheer ecstasy for seeing the beauty of this being’s spirit.

There was no way of getting around it… this was an utterly beautiful dream.  Whilst sitting there, I felt much as I had in that dream wherein Merlin and I flew together into the intense blue-white light, in an upright position and laughing our heads off.

Of course, that amazing flying dream between Merlin and me did occur on Friday, August 10, 1994.  It was, by far, one of the most beautiful dreams.

__________________________________

Photo: c. 1860 Maharaja Duleep Singh.

__________________________________________________________________________

© 2013-2023  Arvin da Brgha.  All Rights Reserved.