So the news that Carla has married Sarko has of course devastated Rupert. “How could she?” he wailed down the phone to me as I stood at the supermarket check-out.
I excitedly shared the news of the wedding with the people queuing with me at Carrefour. They didn’t seem in the least bit interested. I couldn’t wait to get into the car to listen to the news. The girls demanded Amy Winehouse.
“No,” I told them. “Sarko’s got married, I need to hear all about it.”
“We hate Sarko,” said Olivia. “He’s going to make us do homework at the after-school crèche. We want to play instead.”
The news was full of some military coup in Chad. Who cares about Chad? What we really want to know is what did Carla wear?
I had to wait until I got home to read the Daily Mail and discover that she wore white.
“How ridiculous,” I huffed.
“And why shouldn’t she wear white?” said Rupert. “She hasn’t been married before.”
I suppose he has a point. But there is something rather incongruous about a man-eating former super-model turned semi-naked rock star doing the blushing bride bit.
I am not bitter. I know I sound bitter but I’m not. I never wanted to sleep with Eric Clapton or Mick Jagger or live in the Elysee Palace. But I do truly believe that Sarko has lost the plot. OK, so he’s obviously besotted, who wouldn’t be? But there are some women who are the marrying kind and some women who are not. Even though he has only known her a little over two months he should realise that Carla is not. And no matter how much white she wears I’m not convinced this marriage will last as long as Sarko’s presidential term. Which could only be a matter of weeks if Olivia and Bea get their way.
Copyright: Helena Frith Powell 2008
A friend of mine had no idea who Carla Bruni is and when I told him she used to go out with Eric Clapton, then Mick Jagger and is now marrying the French president, his comment was: “So she is going down in the world then”.
“On a le président qu’on mérite”.
Nicolas and Carla have just the right amount of “vulgarité” to endear them to today’s France.
It may all go hideously wrong, but the old romantic in me hopes that it works out for them. God knows, they have had enough shit thrown at them!
Time will tell I guess, and time will also heal poor Rupert! Can’t think why he’s that bothered when he’s got a wife like you. (NOT meant sarcastically – honest!).
Hello Sev, how sweet of you, thank you. And I agree that it would be lovely if it all worked out but the more I see of her the madder I think she is. Maybe, unlike Jackie Kennedy who was a natural, Carla will grow into her role of First Lady. And start to wear clothes on a more regular basis.
Oooh…. I think she left the unclad days of her past a long time ago….. unless you know different!
Maybe she will end up being more Jackie Kennedy and less Jordan…… but I guess we’ll have to wait and see. Mind you, Jackie O (as she became) certainly ended up being fairly strange towards the end of her life. Maybe Carla has started early?
I started reading this site because I read your books about living in France, as I had just bought a house in St Chinian – not a million miles from you.
I arrived back here today, and was surprised how warm it was. 16 degrees at 18.00. Not bad for the beginning of Feb.
You are always an interesting read – even if I don;t always agree with you!
Are you aware that there’s advert for Phillipino ladies down the side of this page?!!
I hadn’t seen it, thanks. It’s a little more tasteful than the last one which I think was offering gay porn sites, heaven knows why they chose my blog but maybe I will finally make some money from it!
I know St Chinian very well, it’s lovely, enjoy your stay. I am in London which is sunny, rather amazingly.
I couldn’t figure out what it was about Carla Bruni that irritated me so much until today. Walking past a newstand, there was a magazine with her face on the cover. That thin, long, lank hair, centre parting, slightly protuberant teeth, and wet, “cute little me” expression… that would be enough, but no, there was something else. She made me think of… got it! Meredith! Dippy, whimsy, navel-gazing Meredith from Gray’s Anatomy. My lurve rival (in my fantasy world) for McDreamy’s affections. Of course. No wonder I’m bugged by Carla Bruni. Not that I’m gagging for Nicolas Sarkozy in a fantasy world, you understand. I’ve just taken exception to the way his new wife looks. And I don’t even know the poor woman. How very unfair of me.