MRS CO­HEN’S DIARY

The Jewish Chronicle - - COMMENT -

DAR­LING JO (JK to you) Rowl­ing has given me her new book to read. The Silk­worm is a very thrilling thriller, writ­ten un­der the name of Robert Gal­braith (she’s fool­ing no-one, I don’t know why she both­ers). Any­way, there I was sit­ting on the beach in Her­zlia Pi­tu­ach en­joy­ing the book, when sud­denly I read about a nonJewish char­ac­ter de­scribed as not want­ing to go back to York­shire to “sit shiva” for her fi­ancé’s mother. I think Jo has been spend­ing too long hang­ing out with me. What next, roast beef and stuffed kishkes for Sun­day lunch? Speak­ing per­son­ally, I’m still sit­ting shiva for Harry Pot­ter.

Talk­ing of sit­ting on the beach in Is­rael, I am hugely en­thu­si­as­tic about the pro­posed leg­is­la­tion go­ing through the Knes­set which will bring Is­rael in line with the rest of the world by hav­ing its weekend on Satur­day and Sun­day in­stead of Fri­day and Satur­day. I’ve had a word with lit­tle Tzipi and she is go­ing to sup­port Sil­van’s Bill which I sup­pose will have some eco­nomic ben­e­fits by sync-ing Is­rael with the rest of the civilised world — but more im­por­tantly will al­low me to sync my so­cial diary. You have no idea how both­er­some it is for me that ev­ery­one is work­ing when I need to go for lunch on a Sun­day — so self­ish.

I’m fu­ri­ous with Pippa Mid­dle­ton who has been talk­ing about feel­ing” bul­lied” fol­low­ing all the fuss over wear­ing That Dress at Will and Kate’s wed­ding. The dress, she says, was meant to be “in­signif­i­cant and blend in with Kate’s train”. Hmm, well I can only re­peat what I said to Pippa when she was try­ing on out­fits: “You might be able to get away with that one just as long as you don’t wig­gle your bum too much as you walk up the aisle”. It fell on deaf ears, of course, and she is still bear­ing the con­se­quences — it’s al­most as if she en­joys the at­ten­tion.

I have al­ways been very re­luc­tant to at­tend mu­sic fes­ti­vals – I don’t do tents – in fact I don’t do any ac­com­mo­da­tion which doesn’t in­clude the phrase “en-suite”. But then one of Dolly’s people got in touch to ask whether I would be able to help out with her make-up on the day of her per­for­mance at Glas­ton­bury. “You won’t need to camp, we’ll put you up in the finest ho­tel in Bath and fly you in by he­li­copter — your feet won’t touch the ground”.

Well, I was still re­luc­tant to share the same site as a seething mass of hu­man­ity, par­tic­u­larly given the un­cer­tain weather con­di­tions, but then I had a word with my old friend Michael Fish and he said the sun was go­ing to shine for the en­tire weekend so I de­cided to go. Need­less to say it poured, and I nearly lost one of my Gucci wel­lies in the mud, but Dolly looked a pic­ture and the Pimms in the celebrity hos­pi­tal­ity area was ac­cept­able. Shan’t be rough­ing it again, though.

I don’t do tents or any­thing not en-suite

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