Tonight’s the last night I’ll see Posetta – or Pottles as I have taken to calling her – before I return to America. I dognapped her from lil’sis this afternoon and brought her back to the country so I could max out my Posetta time. I’ll return her tomorrow when I drive back down to London in a shiny blue Transit van to empty the huge, locked hall cupboard in my London flat where I shoved all the books & Vogues I cldn’t take to America when I first rented it out. The flat is for sale, and I do not want lil’sis to have deal with all my stuff if/when it sells.
I am seriously concerned about where it’s all going to end up. Although I’ve spent the last few months emptying out every cranny of the family home, there are still boxes & crates of books, magazines & old NMEs that I want to keep, and there’s no guarantee that my mother will be able to store them in wherever she ends up. In an ideal world I would ship them all to America, but at the moment it’s just not fiscally viable.
At least all my clothes – the vintage I have inherited, my mother’s old 70s pieces, the special pieces I can’t part with, all my old evening wear – are safely vacuum packed and stashed away in the attic at C’s in Highgate – I cannot thank her enough for volunteering the space.
The rest of my precious possessions- boxes of my kitchen equipment, are in that cupboard too. But I’ve got round that part of the problem by offering a girlfriend some of it – however much I like my matched eight place settings of Habitat white porcelain, the fact remains that I bought it all on press discount in the first place, and it would cost more to store in the UK or ship to America than it it would cost to replace.
I also need to dispose of the contents of my art deco drinks cabinet. Something tells me that that won’t be a problem.