Reading the Sunday Times Rich List is always exciting – it’s almost like waiting for your children’s A-level results. There are all the congratulatory phone calls to make and a few miserable oligarchs who have fallen down the rankings. But I was delighted to see Awesome Alexander Knaster rising up the pile this year. In fact, many of my former Soviet friends did well, with Roman yet again hovering near the top, so the Stoli was flowing this week along with the Bolly. It wasn’t just the former Soviets who were doing well. David and Simon Reuben were born in Baghdad and of course there is always Nathan Kirsh, who is South African. I sent love and kisses to all them in the hope that one of them would come through with a private jet for the big basketball game.
Yes, Shims invited me over to watch Maccabi Tel Aviv in the European final against Real Madrid on his big screen at the presidential residence. I was very excited at the opportunity to see Christiano Ronaldo in action but apparently while he does play for Real Madrid it is a different sport – so confusing. Anyway, this was more like netball, but without the skirts. Maccabi Tel Aviv are very good at it but the match was so close and Shims was so over-excited I thought we were going to have to bring the presidential elections forward. Fortunately Maccabi won and Shims made it to the end, proudly wearing his yellow tie. Cue lots of celebrating in Rabin Square after I had put Shims to bed with a warm milky drink. Bless.
It was a big week what with the television Baftas and the United Synaguogue Women’s Annual Dinner. I was called in to the Baftas to give advice on dresses. I tried my very best but looking at some of the creations on show it was clear that my words had fallen on deaf ears. As for the US dinner, they had wanted to honour me for a lifetime’s fabulous service but I insisted on turning down the overtures. There are so many ladies doing such lovely work that I thought for once they should get the plaudits rather than being overshadowed by Mrs Cohen yet again. Looking at their happy little faces I think it was the correct decision.
No sooner had I got home than I was off to Israel again – such a whirl. Having supported the yellows at basketball, I was now supporting another yellow and white team as I accompanied my old buddy Pope Frankie on his first trip to the Holy Land. Having bumped into him years ago in Buenos Aires, we had always kept in touch and he is such interesting company (when I can keep him off the subject of football). So, I’ve become an unofficial adviser on all things Israeli. The first advice I gave him was to go easy on Shims who still seems to have a slight hangover from the other night. Frankie seems to be having a blast though.
I finished last weekend exhausted from rushing off to Windsor Castle to celebrate the launch of the Ralph Lauren Centre for Breast Cancer Research, at a fab party hosted by Prince William. Ralphy, whom I have known since before he re-named himself Lauren (he was born Ralph Lifschitz), rather confusingly has a daughter-in-law called Lauren Lauren. It shows a certain want of imagination in the names department, I feel. Now, Cohen Cohen: there’s a name.
