I can’t believe we are facing the prospect of another Icelandic, volcanic dust cloud. The upcoming week sees me flying to Moscow - St Petersburg – London - LA and finally Las Vegas, where I stay put for a bit to exhibit at the largest US jewellery show. The last cloud of dust, of course, had a lot of us stranded in one place or another. My family were considerably displaced; Wife in Russia, eldest daughter in Venice, youngest in Vienna and myself in Kansas City. Gnasher the poodle and Rosie the tortoise thankfully weren’t affected.

Every trip I make to Kansas City I am accompanied by an off duty State trooper. Who of course has a small armory at his disposal. (They don’t muck about with truncheons in Kansas City). A couple of years back while making conversation with said state trooper about his police issue Glock, he offered to take me to the Police range for a lesson. As usual I never found time, however, last year due to volcanic activity 4000 miles away I found myself kicking my heels in Kansas City and plenty of time to take the Cop up on his offer and had a great day shooting at paper bodies with targets on the hearts and heads.

I have a shot gun in the UK which I have mastered to such a level that my shooting companions have cruelly labeled me “The Conservationist”. Well that’s as, but that day in Kansas City with a 9mm Glock in my hand and my own cloud of dust, I was Dirty Harry.

Before I attempt to start travelling this week I still have a couple of days in the office addressing the jewellery casualties that always happen prior to the Vegas show. At this late date I just hope there is nothing terminal.      

First work thing I had to do was to judge the Platinum Innovation Awards. I’ve been on the jury for 9 years and this year I declined due to family commitments. Not letting me get away that easily they brought all the entrants work to me. I found the winners pretty sharpish - no time to muck about.

Next I signed on the dotted line to borrow enough money to bail out Greece, which is apparently about the same sum as a 3 bed flat in W2. After this I met with Guy, the architect, (who incidentally couldn’t find parking on Mount St for his Boris bicycle so therefore brought it into my shop) who was equipped with a pencil and fag packet with which he redesigned the inside of the newly acquired flat.

Then it was back to the studio for the new men’s collection review and then straight into the Couture women’s design meeting for the autumn.

Then its off to meet Ian Callum, the head designer for Jaguar, of which I am an ambassador.  Finally off to Crazy Horse, a burlesque show from Paris. Still haven’t packed for Moscow. Hope the dancers aren’t too distracting…