Thought I'd scroll back through these posts to remind myself what I was up to at this time last year. Apparently not a lot. And yet at the end of each day I was exhausted. Today. With New York far in the distance, my life has changed completely and thanks to Paul, become a happy, fulfilled one. Here is an entry from last September, written by a man I hardly recognise...

Diary of a New Yorker (During Days of Disaster, Despair and World Change)
by montontonjon @ 04 Sep. 2005 - 15:14:59

Monday. Finally decided to think about Autumn and what the hell I intend to wear. Completely uninspired by the collections. Imagined myself dressed up in Edwardian gear (at my age!) and became horrified. But that does seem to be the general mandate, however. Lunch at Pastis was particularly awful and although I keep on saying it, I really must find a new restaurant. Dinner party way uptown, although much too hot to wear anything great. Decided to innaugurate my new velvet loafers, which were quite a hit.

Tuesday. Came very close to throwing out everything in my closet and starting fresh with something completely different. Wondered vaguely if I could be a Paul Smith man- all colourful and stripy. Realised it would drive me mad and threw on my usual Costume National shades-of-grey. Lunch at Pastis was beyond horrible. Was made to sit in the 'socialite's corner' and the amount of perfume that wafted through the room seemed to coat every bite of my steak tartare, which I should never have ordered anyway. Drinks with Mr. J who's leaving me on Saturday and since my feelings for him change every five minutes, decided to wear something low-key and subdued. Blue-grey cargo trousers and a matching shirt with navy suede sandals, all from Prada.

Wednesday. Slept very late and woke to the arrival of one or two things I had ordered from Costume National. All absolutely beautiful but too hot to wear now. So preoccupied I missed lunch and had to call my friends to apologise. Long telephone conversation with Mr. J who still insists on moving to Hong Kong. I wish he'd leave already. Went out to a drinks party and ran into Mr. H, an ex of sorts, in town from Amsterdam, and passed a very pleasant evening with him in the East Village. Was glad I wore jeans.

Thursday. Busy day with all sorts of errands. In a mad burst of romanticism bought a ticket to LA to meet Mr. J as he's stopping there for a few days before going on to Hong Kong. Not sure if I should keep this as a surprise or tell him beforehand. Ran into a dancer friend at lunch and have come up with a whole new look for Autumn- inspired by the things principal dancers tend to wear at their opening night post-performance galas- which is to say quirky, individual and slightly mad creations, of no use in everyday life. Dinner with Monsieur Ex and old friends of ours visiting from Paris. Naturally I debuted my new look- it defies description, but was met with general approval and delight.

Friday. Met Mr. J for breakfast (a silly idea as I can only ever manage coffee at that hour) and ended up spending the entire day with him. Told him I was thinking of joining him in LA in a 'why not' sort of way. He was overjoyed and I was back to being in love. Keeping up my new look, I was dressed in an old Jean Colonna sweatsuit which is really so much more, my wraparound sunglasses, and flip-flops.

Saturday. Mr. J has gone. Fortunately, Monsieur Ex and his boyfriend invited me to spend a couple of days with them at their Long Island summer house. The Parisians were there and in honour of them I took along a few tins of tapenade and aioli that I had brought back from St. Tropez. As this weekend marks the official end of summer, I packed only white clothes in my case.

Sunday. I shall leave my friends tomorrow and race back to the city to make my flight to LA. I'm in such a muddle. I'm so confused about how I feel about Mr. J, and, worse, I have no idea what I'll wear.