Pictures and the Picturegoer (Jan-Dec 1924)

18 Pictures an d PichjreVve" AUGUST 1924 on my time was to be my own, for sightseeing and the other things I wanted to do in London. /^\ne of my most amusing experiences had to do with clothes. I think I have said that I once observed how much T liked English tailoring. That remark must have found its way into every tailoring establishment, every haberdashery in the vast city of London, for if I saw forty-five interviewers the first day, it is nothing whatever to the number of tailors and haberdashers and " Gentlemen's Fitters " in general, all urging upon me the special value of their particular brand of London clothes. It was really very funny, said that that one passing remark of mine concerning English clothes was much like a tiny pebble cast into the waters. My little " pebble "had stirred up a veritable sea of cloth in the tailoring waters of London. The waves that ensued bade fair to engulf me completely. I sent word to them that I was going to buy English clothes, even as I said, but that I couldn't buy all of them, as a mere matter of lack of sufficient time AND money, and with that they had to be content. YY/e spent this first morning, then, between interviewers and tailors, and late in the afternoon we set forth to see the sights. I told Natacha that I wanted to walk on my first incursion into London streets. I felt, somehow, that it would make London more mine, more a matter of my own intimate discovery, if I walked rather than get into a car and be taken somewhere, mechanically. The London streets would be, each one, an adventure to me. I would make my own thrills as 1 walked down them. feeling myself a part of the city as I would in no other way. Natacha and I walked almost in silence. I finally decided that we wouldn't do any deliberate " sight seeing " this first afternoon. I don't know, as I muse over it, that I entirely believe in sightseeing, anyway. It seems to me that just to wander about a certain part of a country, soaking in the atmosphere, absorbing the colour, the memories, half consciously, half subconsciously getting the feel of the place under your skin, into your blood and veins is a far better way of knowing a city or a country than going about studiously striving to assimilate fact, dates, names. I felt, to-day. as wL walked here and there, at random at will, that London was m\ London, in a sense. That I Above: Exchanging greetings with an official near the aeroplane which was to take him to France. Left: All ready to etnbark,Mrs. Valentino and the Pekes being already aboard. was speaking to her in my own way and she was speaking to me. We understand one another, London and I. . . We dined together quietly at the Carlton, Natacha and I. I wanted to be alone this first evening-. Just as I was writing the above paragraph, Mr. Benjamin Guinness of the Guinness Stout people, phoned us and invited us to dine with him at Ascot the next night. We accepted with a triple pleasure. We went to see Mr. Guinness. We will, in the course of the drive down, see some of the English countryside which I have always longed to see, and we will arrive at Ascot. As tired as I am, I almost feel as though I shall not sleep to-night It seems to me as though the voices of London are constantly whispering to me, beckoning to me, urging me to be up and about. Natacha says no child would act as excitedly as I do about visiting a strange place. Perhaps that is so, but I think if we lose the questing child spirit, the child belief that just around each corner something new, enthralling and delightful is awaiting us. we lose more than half of the joy of living. {Another long instalment 'next month).