With love

A special Monday message.

Hi everyone, I hope this finds you safe and well.

I wanted to take a moment to say my love and thoughts are with all our friends in Los Angeles, and for those with family and loved ones who have been affected by the devastating wildfires.

I published the red carpet report on the Golden Globes last week before the news broke, and am sending much love to our MBE community there. I’ve been lucky enough to visit LA a few times for work over the years, and have always loved the city, its beautiful beaches, and, more than anything, the wonderful welcome of the Californians I have met (and have since, through writing online)—some of whom have become dear friends.

So many US writers here on Substack have, and continue to, write the most moving posts about all that has happened, and suggesting ways of helping those in need.

This edition, in lieu of the Weekend Edit (which despite drafting and re-drafting, never felt quite right) is coming to you later than planned, after a week of playing post-holiday catch-up, battling family bugs and undecking the halls—although the Nativity is still out, tempting one kleptomaniac cat until Candlemas.

I’ve also caught up with my dear dad in the residential care home he moved into with my mother 18 months ago. This was our second Christmas without her, and somehow it felt even harder than last year—when the loss was still so new and, almost as if that came with a protective coating. This year, not so much.

My mum adored Christmas and got excited about it more than anyone I’ve known, and I like to think that, in our family traditions, her legacy lives on. Even if I totally lack her time management/organisation/gift wrapping/Royal icing skills, and so much more.

Seventies south west London, outside our home near Richmond Park

Last night’s visit to see my dad turned into an impromptu iPhone karaoke session, fuelled by a sneaky, irresponsibly timed tuck shop run of Cadbury’s chocolate, a pillow-sized multi-pack of Walker’s ready salted, and zero regrets. I don’t know what the rest of the floor made of our rendition of Joleeeeennne and other 80s bangers I recall my father playing in his home office—but I worked VERY hard at avoiding eye contact with anyone on the way out.

And my dad LOVED it.

These holidays were, I know, hard for many friends, who found themselves navigating the festivities with beloved, increasingly frail parents, amid all the fun. (Perhaps, you, too? If so, I’m sending SO MUCH LOVE.)

I don’t usually write about these areas here at the MBE—so new subscribers, please know today’s edition is an outlier— but I do, at my other Substack newsletter, Life Stories.

My other Substack home

A newsletter devoted to family, home and all it means to belong, I’ve let that space go fallow over the last eighteen months or so, as things have felt too tender, and work and family life has been busier. I’ve also been focused on launching and writing the MBE, which I love SO much, and am excited for all that lies ahead this year.

But, I’m hoping to pick things up at Life Stories again, too, and to bring on some guest authors, writers and podcasters there. Keeping the two spaces separate has always felt right, even if there is an obvious crossover. And it means so much whenever I hear that an essay has resonated with someone. The newsletter is free for all, so do browse the archive and join me there, too, if you’d like.

With all of this in mind, it feels right to leave the beauty news and more until tomorrow—and there will be EXTRA editions this week!

I’m sending love to all, wherever you are, as the new week gets underway. This post just felt like it needed to be written. Normal service will resume tomorrow.

With love, ❤️

Photo via Pinterest