Most good deeds go unnoticed (a Spice Girl and me)

“The road to misery is paved with reasonable expectations” – with lyrics

I was going through a box of mementos, when I came across this – this was a place setting for Geri Halliwell’s baby shower for her daughter Bluebell, which I threw in her honor before she left Los Angeles to return to London to give birth. It brought up some good mixed memories of that time.

The flowers were from the stunning Mark’s Garden www.marksgarden.com, the food was prepared by the brilliant and talented Kim Bowen (marvelous cook & stylist extraordinaire).

I had to break into Geri’s house that morning because she was at a doctor’s appointment and had forgotten to leave me the key so I could prepare the house (the whole estate has now been turned into a drug rehab). I must have run up and down the hill from the bottom of the drive to the top lining it with flowers and balloons five times. The cake was superb, we got the china and table rentals back on time minus one spoon and despite the silly party games, everyone had a great time. (“Never give up on the good times, livin’ it up is a state of mind!”)

Geri was slightly overwhelmed by the whole scenario and halfway through the party I found her upstairs in her bedroom packing up as she had to leave on a flight the next morning. (“There’s always tomorrow.”) She gave me a huge jar of Nivea, which was the basis of her facial beauty regime. I still haven’t finished it. Oh, she never thanked me or Kim.

I went to visit Geri in London a few weeks before she gave birth and helped her with some last minute preparations and just hung out and kept her company. (“Sparkle in the rain. Told me she needed a friend. If she’s going crazy, baby’s on the way”) Then I read about the blessed event in The Sun newspaper. I sent her a baby basket and later on, food from Villandry http://www.villandry.com/ on Great Portland Street near where she was staying.

When she got the food she called me and thanked me profusely – it’s always the best gift for a new Mum. I asked her about the birth and she cut me off saying “Read it about in Hello! Magazine. It’s out tomorrow.”

I did read about it and I did, at her behest come to London again two months later to stay with her and Bluebell. I slept on the couch, rocked Blue to sleep, let Geri get some rest and we saw “Superman”. We discussed how he was a metaphor for Jesus. In the TV room were several pictures taken at the second baby shower she was given, by her friend Kenny Goss, which George Michael attended.(“Do you think he’s cool and sexy?”) Lots of photos of those on the wall, none of ours. True, we didn’t have a pop star in attendance (well, I guess we did…Geri), just good friends wishing her the very very best from Los Angeles.

Later, that Christmas, I was invited again and she gave me a lovely framed photo of me and Blue, who then was unrecognizable as the gorgeous clever curly-haired girl she is today. I helped her unpack her new house, we talked about her career, we went shopping, should have been fun…Oh, did I mention that halfway through this visit she stopped speaking to me without explanation? (“Too much of nothing is just as tough”)

When I got pregnant a few months later I started to ask her some questions and she said she preferred I ask someone else. (“I won’t be hasty, give you a try. If you really bug me then I’ll say goodbye!”)

Bitter? Sure, on occasion, but more sad for her and angry at myself (“Giving is good, as long as you’re getting!”). However, in the end I don’t regret being of service to her and helping her out emotionally, physically with all the love a friend would give another (“Look for the rainbow in every storm?”). I guess I could get into all that and more, but instead I’ll just say..um…..GIRL POWER!?