It was the publishing event of the decade

by Nick Foulkes
3 June 2010

I refer of course to the triumphant launch of the year’s best selling book about Victorian gambling mania and the plot to steal the Derby of 1844: Gentlemen & Blackguards. I had thoughtfully warned the authorities to provide crowd control to keep the hordes at bay outside Mark’s Club, and I have to say they did sterling work, both keeping the crowds away and also maintaining such a low profile, that, had I not known there was a blanket police presence I could have sworn there was not a police officer in sight – but then such is the brilliance of our Metropolitan police. Of course the Met plays an important part in G&B, but I am sure that if you have the time to read this, you have already finished your copy of this wonderful book and bought a further ten copies for your immediate family.

Gentlemen & Blackguards Invitation

Of course I almost did not make my own launch party, not out of any Gatsby-like pretensions (although God knows I have my pretensions) rather that I was delayed in Cannes, by the chance to handle a huge uncut emerald the size of a large potato that had been unearthed from the Muzo mine and had been put on display in Caroline Gruosi-Scheufele’s suite at the Martinez. For a moment I forgot about my impending book launch and was lost in rapt admiration of this huge hunk of precious stone – I cannot wait to go down the Muzo mine myself and try my hand at digging out these stones. Such is the fecundity of the Muzo ground that emeralds as big as golf balls are distributed to the local children to play with, much as I enjoyed a game of marbles in my youth.

Nick Foulkes with emerald

In fact I was so busy making arrangements for my new career as a miner (Caroline and I are planning to broadcast live on Finch TV from the main mineshaft, with me reprising the Roger Moore role in the unjustly neglected classic mining movie Gold) that I was almost late for lunch on the boat of my old friends Mr and Mrs Roberto Cavalli. While on the HMS Cavalli (God Bless all who sail on her) we made plans to visit Georgia, after which the yacht will be hauled over land to Lake Baikal where we would take a leisurely cruise…any way … I just made it to Nice in time for strike-wracked BA to spirit me to Shepherd’s Bush giving me just enough time to slip into an old slubbed silk suit made for me by Terry Haste at Huntsman (the same suit I wore to the launch of my book about Count d’Orsay) and then it was off to Mark’s where the fragrant Alex Meyers, her small dog Ribbons and her large wristwatch, were throwing me the most civilised of book launches.

Nick Foulkes on HMS Cavalli

The following evening I was back in the company of the charming Miss Meyers, her small dog and large watch for an evening in conversation with my friend and FQR contributor Simon ‘the man with the Golden Gavel’ de Pury. Actually I had to sing, or at least talk for my supper as I was playing the chat-show host to Simon’s debonair international man of style and poise. I like to think that we kept the evening rattling along as Simon gave generously of his insights into and memories of the great auctions of the past and I gamely lowered the tone by saying that I had spotted a work by the well known Irish artist Mr Jack O’Metty in that masterpiece of existential cinema Iron Man II.

I then took the rest of the week off, by which I mean that I did not travel, but stayed at home in the capital of empire doing the things I love like seeing my friend Edward Sahakian and playing backgammon.

However by Monday I was on the road, or to be more accurate the rails, again to Paris to see Nicolas Bos and Stanislas de Quercize at Van Cleef & Arpels. Nicolas and Stanislas are among the most civilized men currently toiling in the salt mines of luxury and they have been kind enough to invite me to assist them on a little historical project…more of which will be revealed when appropriate. Moreover they are repairing an ancient Silver Van Cleef belt buckle from the 1970s that I turned up in a flea market.

While I was in Paris I also found a moment to pay my respects at that ultimate shrine to the shirt, Charvet. Sadly the radiant Anne-Marie Colban was not there, but her delightful brother, a man with whom it is possible to hold a learned discourse on the importance of half and quarter tone variations in colour was kind enough to say that my salmon pink corduroy suit (worn with salmon, blue and brown striped Charvet shirt, vintage Chaumet tiger’s eye cufflinks, Eric Cook brogues etc) brightened his day and lightened his mood.

After that I just had time to make it over to see my friend Henri George Zaks, proprietor of Seraphin. Seraphin is one of the great under-the-radar luxury marques and Henri, an artist in leather, is a true hero of legitimate luxury, quite why he has not been awarded the Legion d’Honneur (not just the red one but the red one with two little silver wings); the Palme Academique, the Merite Agricole and been admittd to the Academie Francaise I do not know. After being measured for a lightweight summer blouson in butter soft, parchment thin, extremely strong Ethiopian lambskin and having discussed the various merits of Icelandic shearling and Eritrean goatskin it was back in the limo and on to the Gare de Lyon where, I boarded a TGV bound for my second home and –inexplicably, one of Ian Fleming’s Thrilling Cities, Geneva.

After a refreshing three and half hour journey I was in the perfect frame of mind and body for a further 90 minutes in the back of another Mercedes, driven by a man who had clearly asked his sat nav to find the longest most sinuous route to Le Sentier, I now find myself in a delightful lakeside hotel frequented by hikers, waiting for the sun to rise and the gates of the Jaeger Le Coultre factory to open so that I can kick off my official tour of the great enamelling workshops of the Swiss watchmaking industry.

Tags: Gatsby, Roberto Cavalli, Roger Moore

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