Style For Living

My mother loved Fashion. More than fashion – which was prone to lapses of taste unacceptable to her – she loved STYLE. She grew up in Dublin at a time when most people were intensely proud and incredibly poor. Money, when it was there, was for essentials. Essentials...

Mrs Farrell’s Christmas Cake

When I was a child – without fail – November smelled of cinnamon, nutmeg, jewel-bright candied carbuncles of citrus peel, and rich, shiny brandy. My mother baked Christmas cakes then for a mid-December delivery. It was a skill she’d acquired at a women’s club in the...

My New York

The first time I went to New York was in 1993. The Twin Towers still stood, monolithic orientation points that allowed the visitor to tell uptown from downtown. The city – pre the Giuliani and Bloomberg sandblasting of its gritty façade – was the ultimate grown-up,...