A poignant and perfect send-off
We knew the church would be packed as Shelley had died so young. We knew the church would be freezing,…
The day I got naked with the Germans
A man called Gianluca and I mounted the steps to the Friedrichsbad in pensive silence. We hadn’t made eye contact…
Jilly Cooper was utterly unrivalled
Jilly Cooper, the last great Englishwoman of my lifetime – after Queen Elizabeth II and Debo – has died. The…
How not to be a spy
Like our former ambassador to the United States, Lord Mandelson, I was once vetted by the security services. My brush…
Nick Ferrari’s big fat Provençale wedding
It was the morning after the night before and I was picking glass out of my leg by a pool,…
The day I went to Noel Gallagher’s house for tea
In front of me, a sea of lads in bucket hats and Adidas, with pints. Behind me, a sea of…
My night at the Spectator summer party
The first rule of the summer party is do not hold your summer party on the same night as The…
I’ve lost control of the kitchen
Looking back, I can pinpoint my fatal blunder. It was lunch. It was like the West allowing Vladimir Putin to…
We’re spending the children’s inheritance on the dog
After we bought a place on my father’s hill farm in 2000, I’d study the notices pinned to boards in…
Bloodbath at West Chapple farm
Fifty years after its original publication, John Cornwell’s account of the Devon murder mystery involving three dysfunctional siblings remains as haunting as ever
The Lady vanishes
The moment I stepped out of the Covent Garden sunshine and into the regal offices of the Lady magazine, it…
My secret Ukraine trip with Boris
Kyiv On the morning of 24 February, I woke just before seven as a tentative apricot dawn was spreading over…
What I can’t tell you about Lamu
Lamu Ever since we arrived on the syrupy, sweltering Swahili coast – where else would your Best Life columnist be…
The hell of bra shopping
It’s probably haram to quote Cecil Rhodes these days, but he was bang on when he said: ‘Remember that you…
The Parties of the Year: my verdict
As the editor’s brief for this column is ‘Fomo-inducing’, I must push the boat out for my debut and am…
The best podcasts to fall asleep to
‘Yous!’ a train cleaner in rubber gloves says as we arrive at Liverpool Lime Street. ‘What are yous doing here?’…
It’s hard work having fun: Wives Like Us, by Plum Sykes, reviewed
A ride with friends involves dressing to the nines and stopping at a Marie Antoinette-style ‘hameau’ for sloe-gin cocktails – served by uniformed staff and filmed for Instagram
Women don’t want women-only clubs
In my experience, men offer this infuriating comeback when challenged about the continuing exclusion of women from clubs such as…
Diary
When someone asks ‘How are you?’ you have to assume your interlocutor is only being polite. Anyone who returns a…
Dirty dogs
The dangers and distortion of yoga
Diary
The Season has ended and – apart from The Spectator’s summer bash of course – the two bang-up parties of…
Long live the rock dinosaurs!
When the Oldie changed ‘leadership’ a few years back I swooped on the new editor, young Harry Mount, like a…
In defence of my brother Boris
As you might have guessed, it hasn’t been the calmest, quietest weeks in the Johnson family, and lots of broadcasters…
