So its off to the Big Smoke for two days tomorrow. Not staying with the youngest daughter this time but in my rather pompous 'Gentleman's Club' with the mouthful of a title 'The East India, Devonshire, Eccentrics and Public Schools Club' It (as the East India) has always had its own premises but the other clubs in rented buildings were driven out by rising rentals and have amalgamated with the East India in St James Square. To taxi drivers-at least those who have 'the knowledge' it is known as The Curry and Rice. But pompous it is. Jackets and ties (ideally suits) at all times. Up to not too long ago women who are reluctantly let in as guests of members were obliged to wear skirts. A guest of mine, a young Jordanian was asked to remove her trousers on arrival and told to put on the club skirt which fortunately fitted her ok. I protested about this and asked how they would deal with Queen Noor of Jordan who always wears tailored trousers-'Oh She is different-she is ethnic' I was told but apparently my Jordanian friend was not ethnic enough.
That has now changed after pressure from myself and others and 'tailored trousers' are ok but jeans no. Gentlemen arriving tieless are lent the club tie and there are a variety of jackets for the sartorially incomplete. Also 'gentlemen' are not supposed to do business over a meal so briefcases are banned from the dining rooms and woe betide any one who produces a piece of paper at the table unless it is socially appropriate like a Playboy centrefold.
Most of the public rooms are 'Gentlemen only'-the ladies now have their own drawing room and wife of a member can now share a bedroom. In my father's time my mother was obliged to sleep elsewhere-'Gentlemen only' meant just that and it was some time before women were allowed in, wives or not, and then via a separate entrance from a back street. My mother was one of the first women allowed in as a guest and on meeting an elderly member on the stair case noticed he turned a choleric shade of purple and pushed past her muttering 'thin edge of the wedge' He may well have been the man who was found very dead in the Smoking Room in his favourite chair. He had a reputation amongst the staff of having a foul temper and no one wanted to disturb his post prandial nap.
