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2024 French Design Awards Announces the Winning Designs of its Inaugural Season

2024 French Design Awards S1 Full Results Announced! 2024 French Design Awards S2 Calling for Entries Now! The International Awards Associate (IAA) officially unveils the outstanding achievements of all winning entries in Season 1 of the 2024 French Design Awards. In its debut season, the French Design Awards have achieved remarkable success, marking a significant milestone in the design industry.”— Thomas Brandt, Spokesperson of IAAPARIS , PR, FRANCE, March 21, 2024 /EINPresswire.com/ — The International Awards Associate (IAA) officially unveils the outstanding achievements of all the winning entries in Season 1 of the 2024 French Design Awards. Open to global designers, the award celebrates its first remarkable season, showcasing the creative genius in interior, architectural, product and packaging design. By bringing together diverse talents from across the globe, the French Design Awards illuminates the power of design to shape the world, and the universal impact of innovative design. In Season 1, the award has seen an exceptional level of global engagement, with over 1,000 entries from more than 30 countries, including the United States, Japan, Italy, China, Australia, and Poland, among others. This impressive turnout not only emphasises the award’s international appeal but also showcases the cultural depth inherent in the global design community. 2024 Featured Winners of Design ExcellenceIn a gathering of the world’s most innovative and extraordinary designs, the French Design Awards is proud to have recognised winning names that redefined the benchmarks of excellence, including HZS Design Holding Company Limited, Shenzhen Tigerpan Design Co., Ltd, The Craft Irish Whiskey Co., JOAQUIN HOMS STUDIO, CLV.DESIGN, UT DESIGN, COSQUARE STUDIO and numerous others, each contributing to the evolving narrative and positioning themselves on a global stage of design excellence. Visit the French Design Awards’ official website for the complete list of international designers and their winning works here: https://frenchdesignawards.com/. “It is a privilege for us to extend recognition to global designers through the French Design Awards, a united community that amplifies their profound influence across the design industry,” stated Thomas Brandt, spokesperson of IAA. He added, “I am deeply inspired by the significant impact the design industry has made in evolving creative expressions, and I am immensely proud that the award has received support from outstanding jurors, transforming this competition into a celebrated reality, shining a spotlight on the most innovative and impactful designs from around the world.” Grand Jury PanelTo uphold the highest standards of excellence, IAA has sincerely invited a group of professional jurors from the design industry, which includes figures such as Mark Turner (United Kingdom), Jeremy Smith (New Zealand), Tiago do Vale (Portugal), Ralph Christian Bremenkamp (Germany), Daisuke Nagatomo (Japan), Wang Zhike (China),Li Xiaoshui (China), and many others. Their expertise has played a crucial role in honouring the most outstanding designs presented in this year’s awards, those that make significant contributions to the world of design. “In its debut season, the French Design Awards have achieved remarkable success, marking a significant milestone in the design industry,” Thomas proclaimed. “This success is proof that the winners’ extraordinary adaptability and dedication to their craft have led them on a journey of distinction, spreading the statement that they are the ones to lay down the foundation for future innovations in design.” The French Design Awards is now accepting submissions for its official second season of 2024, with the Early Bird deadline set for 16 April 2024, with the complete results announced on 12 September 2024, showcasing a new wave of design excellence and innovation. Participants from all around the world are encouraged to submit their entries, becoming part of a prestigious platform that celebrates and honours excellence in design. About French Design AwardsThe French Design Awards is an international design competition that honours and acknowledges the zenith of creative genius in interior, architectural, product and packaging design. This prestigious award recognises and celebrates architects, interior, product and packaging designers who are not only shaping the environment, but also reimagining how design is perceived, inhabited, and its interaction with spaces. About International Awards Associate (IAA) Established in 2015, the International Awards Associate (IAA) is a global organization dedicated to recognising professional excellence and outstanding achievements in various industries. As the organiser of a wide range of prestigious award programs such as the MUSE Creative Awards, MUSE Design Awards, Vega Digital Awards, NYX Awards, NYX Game Awards, TITAN Business Awards, TITAN Property Awards, London Design Awards, NY Product Design Awards, and many more, IAA aims to honour, promote, and encourage professional excellence, from industry to industry, internationally and domestically, through award platforms that are industry-appropriate.Tyler K.International Awards Associate Inc.email us hereVisit us on social media:FacebookTwitterLinkedInInstagram You just read: News Provided By March 22, 2024, 01:50 GMT EIN Presswire’s priority is source transparency. We do not allow opaque clients, and our editors try to be careful about weeding out false and misleading content. As a user, if you see something we have missed, please do bring it to our attention. Your help is welcome. EIN Presswire, Everyone’s Internet News Presswire™, tries to define some of the boundaries that are reasonable in today’s world. Please see our Editorial Guidelines for more information. Source link The content is by EIN Presswire. Headlines of Today Media is not responsible for the content provided or any links related to this content. Headlines of Today Media is not responsible for the correctness, topicality or the quality of the content.

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TOM UTLEY: Someone broke in as we slept upstairs. Don’t let anyone tell you that burglary is just a…

Sometime in the early hours of Wednesday morning, while we were asleep upstairs, an intruder entered our house and grabbed what he could lay his hands on. (I assume he was male, but I have no evidence for this, except that burglary has traditionally been a male occupation). Clearly, it was a quick in-and-out job, which couldn’t have lasted much more than five minutes. But it was quite long enough to cause an enormous amount of anxiety, distress, inconvenience and expense. My guess is that Minnie, one of the smallest, friendliest and least scary dogs in South London, may have seen him off with her ecstatic yapping — her habitual greeting to strangers — as he opened the door to the kitchen where she sleeps. Perhaps he feared she would wake us. As it was, we slept through her yapping and I won’t pretend I regret that. A less-than-impressive physical specimen of 70, and a lifelong coward, I really don’t fancy the idea of confronting an intruder in my pyjamas. Anyway, these days I would probably have been the one who was arrested if I’d tried. It was our resident son who discovered that we’d been burgled, when he got up shortly after 6.30am to set off for his latest posting at an East London school, where he’s training to be a teacher. Downstairs, he found the front door wide open, as were the drawers in the hall table. The bag he had left on it had gone, along with its contents: his wallet, bank card, driving licence, travel card, a season ticket to his beloved Fulham, a laptop belonging to the school and his passport (so bang went his plan to travel when schools break up for the Easter holiday). Nor was there any sign of Minnie. That was until he heard her barking halfway down the street. He set off in hot pursuit and carried her home. He had his priorities right. Having rung his bank to cancel his card, he came upstairs to wake us with the bad news. I rushed downstairs, shaking slightly — though whether from trepidation, anger or a hangover, I can’t say for sure — to assess any damage and see what else was missing. The answer was not much. There were no visible signs of forced entry. As for what the intruder took, it was nothing of any great value to him, though our losses were a very great pain to us. He had taken my keys, to the house and the car, which I’d foolishly left in the pocket of my dog-walking coat, hanging by the door. He’d also gone through the drawers of my desk in the sitting room, but seems to have found nothing there to take his fancy. This was hardly surprising, because they contained little apart from broken specs, an exhausted battery, a stapler, a gas-lighter refill (empty), a few bits of string — and sheaves of letters from readers, which weigh heavily on my conscience as they await my long-delayed reply. But he’d taken Mrs U’s favourite handbag — hugely annoying, since it contained our only other set of keys to our car, her bank card, wallet, Freedom Pass and much-loved photographs of her late mother and our four boys when they were young. She says she feels the loss of those pictures most keenly. Mercifully, however, the burglar had left my wife’s laptop on the kitchen table, along with my own wallet and smartphone, which were in my jacket over the back of a chair. This meant that not only did we still have a bank card between us, giving us access to our joint account, but I had cash for our son’s fare to work and on my mobile were all the numbers and apps we needed for the tasks with which the intruder had landed us. God knows where we would have been without them, in this age when our interactions with the outside world depend so heavily on pieces of plastic and silicon chips. So it was that for the next eight hours, almost without a break, we were ringing call centres and logging on to websites to cancel my wife’s bank card, report the burglary to the police, contact insurers, order a new passport, Freedom Pass and two replacement driving licences, seek help with our now undriveable car and summon an expert to change the locks on the front door. Enough to say that I spent all day listening to robotic announcements thanking me for my patience, warning me that my call could be recorded for training purposes, assuring me that ‘your call is important to us’, offering me a whole range of irrelevant options (‘to renew your policy, press button four…’), logging on to the internet (‘password not recognised’) and, after being told ‘I’m just popping you on hold for a minute’, listening to endless irritating music. Our first call was to the bank, to block that stolen card — and, sure enough, we were told it had already been used twice that morning, at 6.57 and 7.03. To my surprise, Lloyds reimbursed us the £100-odd without fuss. Next, the police — though I rang without hope, fearing they wouldn’t even bother to show up. To my astonishment, however, within an hour of my call two charming officers appeared on our doorstep, full of courtesy and sympathy. One diligently recorded what I knew of the facts, while the other went off to find neighbours with doorbell cameras. Then a third, a forensics officer, turned up to write a report of her own. But was the cynic in me right to fear that this was more a PR exercise than a prelude to justice? After all, only 3.9 per cent of burglaries result in a charge, while in 48 per cent of neighbourhoods nationwide, police have failed to solve a single case in the last three years. Time alone will tell. As for those other phone calls, when I finally got through to real human beings, they bent over backwards to help. It drove me half mad, however, that for the rest of the day my phone kept pinging with requests to answer ‘just a few quick questions’ about the service I’d received. The car was the biggest problem. Parked outside, it was now useless to us, while the burglar could drive it off at any moment. So I had to keep checking it was still there, in between calls to Mercedes, the RAC, the AA’s Key Assist and our insurance company. But I’ve left little space to describe the special difficulties presented by keyless technology to car owners who are keyless in every sense. The long and the short of it is that a huge lorry finally arrived at 9.30pm, courtesy of Direct Line, to lift the Merc off the road and a weight from my mind as it set off for a specialist garage. As for how much that burglar’s brief visit has cost me in cash, I reckon that after paying insurance excesses and the various fees charged for renewing official documents, I’ll be only a few hundred pounds out of pocket, while the burglar will have made much less. The cost in terms of our peace of mind, my wife’s treasured photographs and our son’s hopes of an Easter abroad are much harder to assess. Heaven knows, millions have suffered a great deal more than we did this week. But never let anyone try to convince you that burglary is just a minor offence.

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RICHARD LITTLEJOHN: After Lords block the Rwanda scheme AGAIN… Basket Case Britain is becoming…

Everybody back on the boats. The unelected House of Lords has yet again blocked the Rwanda deportation scheme on the day a record number of migrants crossed the Channel. As the Lords bounced the Bill back to the Commons, another 514 asylum seekers shipped up on the Kent coast after being ‘rescued’ by the lifeboat service. The chances of any of them being kicked out of Britain are close to zero. With the weather improving, we can expect similar numbers arriving daily. The total this year is already more than 4,000. One of those who landed on Wednesday was suffering from stab wounds, reportedly after a fight with people smugglers. It’s now two years since the Rwanda plan was unveiled. But the likelihood of any flights taking off before June is remote. Peers reinstated a series of amendments, all of which had been rejected by MPs. The Bill won’t go back to the Commons until after Easter. Even if it passes, it could then be another ten weeks before the first batch of asylum-seekers can be removed. But I wouldn’t hold your breath. Once the Lords have done their worst, expect a series of legal challenges in the courts from the yuman rites brigade. The main bones of contention are a refusal to admit that Rwanda is a ‘safe’ country and an insistence that the Government must comply with domestic and international law. Since Rishi Sunak will not countenance pulling out of the pernicious European Convention on Human Rights, that means activist judges either here or in Strasbourg could scupper the scheme before it gets off the ground. The idea that Rwanda isn’t a safe country is frankly ludicrous. Arsenal football club — supported by one Keir Starmer — is sponsored by the ‘Visit Rwanda’ tourist board. A friend of mine has just returned from a safari holiday there. As I pointed out before Christmas, there are 66 companies offering Gorillas In The Mist-style treks in Rwanda at up to five grand a pop. According to the travelandleisure.com website: ‘It is one of Africa’s great safari destinations… for luxury honeymoons, family holidays or friends taking that last, big bucket list trip.’ Trawling through the upcoming attractions yesterday, I noticed that next month Rwanda’s capital Kigali is hosting an international jazz festival. One of the peers who voted against the Government was Ken Clarke, former Tory Chancellor, a famous jazz aficionado often seen at Ronnie Scott’s club in Soho. If Ken was offered an all-expenses paid fact-finding mission to the Kigali jazz festival would he turn it down on the grounds that it was unsafe? Let’s agree that the idea of sending asylum-seekers to Rwanda is fairly bonkers. But the scale of illegal migration demands that something, anything, must be put in place as a deterrent, which is why the scheme enjoys widespread support among the public. If those making the crossings thought they’d be put on the first plane to Africa once they reached Britain, it might give them pause for thought. The Government likes to dress up the scheme in humanitarian terms, accusing the obstructionists of putting migrants’ lives at risk. Home Secretary James Cleverly said: ‘While Labour and their allies try anything to delay, disrupt or destroy the plan, people are risking their lives at the hands of people who don’t care if they die as long as they pay.’ That may be true. But the Government’s first duty is to the British people, not those coming here illegally who are supposed, under the international law beloved by the Lords and the yuman rites fanatics, to seek asylum in the first safe country they reach. Putting up migrants in hotels costs British taxpayers an estimated £8million a day. Ministers have been attempting to move some out into purpose- built accommodation such as the Bibby Stockholm barge and recently converted RAF Scampton, in Lincolnshire, home of the Dambusters and the Red Arrows. This was billed as a money-saving exercise, but it now turns out that housing migrants in four of these sites will end up costing £46 million more than keeping them in hotel rooms. You couldn’t, etc… One of the peers most vehemently opposed to the Rwanda scheme is the Archbishop of Canterbury Justin Welby, who backs a self-important Commission on the Integration of Refugees. This week his outfit called for cross-Channel migrants to be given jobs and free English lessons ‘from day one’. On the commission is Baroness Hale, former head of the Supreme Court. You may remember her sporting a Boris The Spider badge when the court blocked an attempt to prorogue Parliament when then-PM Johnson tried to Get Brexit Done. Which brings me to a much broader issue than just the shenanigans in the Lords this week. What we are seeing here is another version of the Brexit wars, with unaccountable peers and lawyers seeking to frustrate the will of the people. When we voted decisively to leave the EU, it was on a promise that we would be taking back control of our laws and, particularly, our borders. Yet the political class, the courts and the Blob had other ideas and spent years trying to overturn the result of the referendum. They’re still at it, two years on from the announcement of the Rwanda deal, which has now been approved by the Commons. Our Parliamentary convention has it that the Upper House can suggest amendments and ask the Commons for clarification. But once MPs have clarified their intention, the Lords must pass the Bill. That’s what they refused to do on Wednesday, deciding to hell with the people and their elected representatives: they know best. And even if and when the Bill does pass, it will inevitably be seized upon by Left-wing lawyers on legal aid and get bogged down in the courts. All this, coupled with the refusal of civil servants to carry out ministerial instructions, another wave of strikes by doctors and train drivers, and the anarchy on the streets over Palestine every weekend, simply adds to the sense of drift and the impression that Basket Case Britain is pretty much ungovernable. The Rwanda scheme was one of Rishi’s flagship policies, most of which are now in tatters. His graduation gown lies in rags at his feet. We’re now told the first plane to Kigali could take off in June, with 150 asylum-seekers on board. Believe it when you see it. That’s if the Tories are even still in office by then. One thing is for certain, an incoming Labour government led by a human rights lawyer in thrall to the ECHR would scrap the scheme on day one. Labour has no idea or any particular inclination to do anything about illegal immigration. Everybody back on the boats.

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Greens are always warning that the Earth’s overcrowded… In fact, the West’s plunging birthrate…

Picture the cities of the future. Do you imagine glittering skyscrapers, bullet trains whizzing past green parklands, flying taxis and limitless clean energy? I’m afraid you may be disappointed. A century from now, swathes of the world’s cities are more likely to be abandoned, with small numbers of residents clinging to decaying houses set on empty, weed-strewn streets – like modern-day Detroit. According to a new report from the Lancet medical journal, by the year 2100, just six countries could be having children at ‘replacement rate’ – that is, with enough births to keep their populations stable, let alone growing. All six nations will be in sub-Saharan Africa. In Europe and across the West and Asia, the birth rate will have collapsed – and the total global population will be plummeting. Eco-activists have long decried humans as a curse on the planet, greedily gobbling up resources and despoiling the natural world. The reliably hysterical BBC presenter Chris Packham has claimed that ‘human population growth’ is ‘our greatest worry… There are just too many of us. Because if you run out of resources, it doesn’t matter how well you’re coping: if you’re starving and thirsty, you’ll die.’ Greens like Packham seem to think that if we could only reduce the overall population, the surviving rump of humanity could somehow live in closer harmony with nature. On the contrary, population collapse will presage a terrifying dystopia. Fewer babies mean older populations – which in turn means fewer young people paying taxes to fund the pensions of the elderly. And that means that everyone has to work ever longer into old age, and in an atmosphere of declining public services and deteriorating quality of life. So if you worry that it’s hard now to find carers to look after elderly relatives, this will be nothing compared to what your children or grandchildren will face when they are old. In modern industrialised societies, it is generally accepted that the Total Fertility Rate (TFR) – the average number of children born to each woman during her lifetime – must be at least 2.1 to ensure a stable population. By 2021, the TFR had fallen below 2.1 in more than half the world’s countries. In Britain, it now stands at 1.49. In Spain and Japan it is 1.26, in Italy 1.21 and in South Korea a desperate 0.82. Even in India – which recently overtook China as the world’s most populous nation – the TFR is down to 1.91. There are now just 94 countries in which the rate exceeds 2.1 – and 44 of them are in sub-Saharan Africa, which suffers far higher rates of infant mortality. The dramatic fall in Britain’s birthrate has been disguised until now because we are importing hundreds of thousands of migrants per year to do badly paid jobs that the native population increasingly spurns. In 2022, net migration here reached more than 700,000. The Office of National Statistics expects the UK population to reach 70million by 2026, almost 74 million by 2036 and almost 77 million by 2046 – largely fed by mass migration. Unless migration remains high, the UK population is likely to start shrinking soon after that point – especially as the last ‘baby boomer’ (born between 1946 and 1964) reaches their 80th birthday in 2044. This mass importation of migrants to counteract a falling domestic birthrate spells huge consequences for our social fabric. In years to come, Britain is set to face a pitiless battle with other advanced economies – many of them already much richer than we are – to import millions of overseas workers to staff our hospitals, care homes, factories and everything else. And once the global population starts to fall in the final decades of this century, it will become ever harder to source such workers from abroad. At that point, we may find hospitals having to cut their services or even close. So, though medical advancements will likely mean that people will be living even longer, we face a grim future in which elderly people will increasingly die of neglect, or be looked after by robots – an idea that has been trialled in Japan already. How has this crisis crept up on us so stealthily? It wasn’t so long ago that the United Nations and others were voicing concern at overpopulation. For decades, self-proclaimed experts have warned – in the manner of early 19th-century economist Thomas Malthus – that global supplies of food and water, as well as natural resources, would run out. Graphs confidently showed the world’s population accelerating exponentially, with many claiming that humankind had no choice but to launch interplanetary civilisations as we inevitably outgrew our world. They could not have been more wrong. Amid all the Packham-esque hysteria about a ‘population explosion’, many failed to notice that birth rates had actually already started to collapse: first in a few developed countries, such as Italy and South Korea, and then elsewhere. As societies grow wealthier and the middle classes boom, women start to put off childbearing. This means that they end up having fewer children overall. In Britain especially, there are the added costs of childcare and the often permanent loss of income that results from leaving the workforce, even temporarily. The striking result of all this is that the number of babies being born around the world has, in fact, already peaked. The year 2016 is likely to go down in history as the one in which more babies were born than any other: 142million of them. By 2021, the figure was 129million – a fall of more than 9 per cent in just five years. To be clear, the global population is for the moment still rising because people are living longer thanks to better medical care. We are not dying as quickly as babies are being born. According to the UN, the global population reached 8billion on November 15, 2022. It should carry on growing before peaking at 10.4 billion in the 2080s – although the world will be feeling the effects of the declining birth rate long before that. On current trends, the world’s population will start to fall by the 2090s – the first time this will have happened since the Black Death swept Eurasia in the 14th century. So what, if anything, can we do to stop ourselves hurtling towards this calamity? For one thing, governments must work tirelessly to encourage people to have families. Generous tax incentives for marriage, lavish child benefit payments and better and cheaper childcare are all a must, so that mothers don’t have to stop their careers in order to start families. Britain could, if it chose to, lead the way on this. But that seems highly unlikely with the imminent prospect of a Labour government: the statist Left habitually loathes any measures that could be seen to benefit the nuclear family or that incentivise people to have more children. Yet in truth, the scale of this problem is so vast – and the issue so widespread – that effectively counteracting it may be next to impossible. Absent some extraordinary shift, the gradual impoverishment of an ageing and shrinking population seems the planet’s destiny. It is not an attractive thought.

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As private rooms in Kent castle are opened to the public, ROBERT HARDMAN gets a first look: Frozen…

Bristling with guns (all pointing at France), this was built by Henry VIII, besieged by Cromwell, occupied by the Duke of Wellington (who died here) and Sir Winston Churchill. It was also the scene of a famous 20th-century sex scandal. More recently, however, Walmer Castle has served as a little-known — and surprisingly modest — royal residence. And from tomorrow, for just a few months, those private quarters are going on public display for the first time. Having enjoyed an exclusive preview, I have to say it’s not the Tudor battlements or the original pair of Wellington boots which stick in my mind. It’s the late Queen Mother’s taste in exuberant late-70s decor — and that this was surely the only place where she lived (for a few days each year) in a three-bedroom flat. To this day, it has her imprint all over it. In 1978, approaching her ninth decade, Queen Elizabeth the Queen Mother acquired an extra home when the Queen appointed her to the ancient office of Lord Warden of the Cinque Ports. Dating back to medieval times, this honorary position is awarded for life to a prominent national figure and comes with a lifetime’s grace-and-favour tenancy of Walmer Castle, near Deal in Kent. This includes several historic rooms on public display for some of the year, plus magnificent gardens, a moat, cafe, gift shop and tearoom, all under the stewardship of English Heritage. However, the castle also has a private apartment within the ramparts. And having become the first female Lord Warden in the 800-year history of this office, the Queen Mother made some very personal touches. From tomorrow, visitors are allowed through the ‘secret door’ in the old Keep. Instantly, they’re transported from the museum-like atmosphere of the public wing into what feels like a comfortable, if faded, hotel from the era of Fawlty Towers. A worn red carpet leads past a guest bedroom (with plenty of post-war brown furniture) and up a few steps, with handrails, to a hallway and a grandfather clock. Here we find a functional-rather-than-cosy kitchen with a fine view of the gardens. I spy a Morphy Richards toaster and open Formica-style cupboards including a stainless steel teapot and a mish-mash of mugs familiar to many a canteen. These belonged to the most recent Lord Warden, the former Chief of the Defence Staff, Lord Boyce, and his late wife. A distinguished former submariner, Michael Boyce was appointed to the post after the death of the Queen Mother in 2002 and lived here, on an occasional basis, until his own death in 2022. Since then, the place has remained empty, pending the appointment of a new Lord Warden by the King. The Boyces made no changes to the place, so we now have a perfect snapshot of life at Walmer in its royal years. We move on to the private dining room, decorated in spring green shades and latterly renamed the Sir Robert Menzies Room, after the Queen Mother’s predecessor. The great Australian statesman was appointed Lord Warden in 1965 in succession to Sir Winston Churchill and used it as his British base. His legacy is the charming collection of Australian landscapes by contemporary artists. Next door is The Queen Elizabeth Room, which she redesigned in a shade of teal. The trees and fronds on the silk wallpaper match the pattern on the sofa. It was in here that she read the papers (especially the racing press) and watched TV. Visitors will see the screen showing scenes of her installation as Lord Warden. We then come to the Queen Mother’s bedroom. Here, the floral patterns are at their most flowery, with pink roses cascading down the pelmet, swags, headboard and curtains. They’re all over the armchair, too. A very 1970s bedspread covers the bed. On the wall, in addition to Queen Victoria, is a JAK cartoon from the Evening Standard in 1995. It shows the Queen Mum on the ramparts of neighbouring Dover Castle brandishing her handbag at a battered Frenchman. At the time, there’d been an almighty row following a French bid to buy the Port of Dover (the most important of the Cinque Ports). The locals implored the Queen Mother, as Lord Warden, to intervene. Though she could not take sides in a political dispute, she came pretty close, instructing her private secretary to write on her behalf to the Transport Secretary, Sir George Young, ‘so that he may be aware of the depth of feeling of the citizens of this ancient sea port’. The French retreated. Even the dressing table was redecorated to her tastes, as was the bathroom next door with its grand marble surrounds. In her later years, she would prefer to use the green-tiled bathroom across the corridor with its walk-in shower. The guest loo next door still has a vivid orange and yellow floral bin with 70s kitsch written all over it. In an alcove, known as the Telephone Annexe, the Queen Mother would make her calls. We find portraits of Lord and Lady Boyce and a telephone which plays anecdotes of life here recorded by Lord Boyce’s children from his first marriage, Hugo and Christine. Hugo Boyce remembers overhearing one shivering visitor complaining that Walmer (pronounced ‘warmer’) should be renamed ‘Colder Castle’. Outside, the Queen Mother’s most notable contribution remains the garden created as a gift for her by designer Penelope Hobhouse. It includes exquisite topiary, a summer house, a rectangular pond and a statue of a corgi on a bench where a real one posed with the Queen Mother for a portrait. Although her stays were never more than a few days each year, she adored this place. ‘My bedroom was really lovely, and we even managed to entertain some guests for dinner in the makeshift dining-room. The chef was very happy in his little kitchen, and the castle had a delightful atmosphere,’ she wrote to her interior designer, Oliver Ford, after her first stay. The staff were kept on their toes. ‘She certainly liked things done her way,’ says Kathryn Bedford, collections curator for English Heritage, fondly. ‘Her team would bring down her own curtains because she didn’t like the ones we had here.’ As royal biographer Hugo Vickers records: ‘The annual visit caused a huge upheaval, with silver, glass and plate brought from London, not to mention special chairs … Some of the furniture, joked the Queen Mother, had been “pinched from Windsor”.’ The title of Lord Warden goes back to medieval times when five Channel ports were given special status. In return, they would provide ships for the King and fortresses were built, notably Dover Castle. Walmer was one of three added for extra protection after Henry VIII’s divorce from Catherine of Aragon prompted the Pope to demand an invasion of England. By the 18th century, the title of Lord Warden had become an honorary sinecure for a distinguished grandee of the day. Though the Duke of Wellington had great mansions in London and Hampshire, the Duke liked to spend each autumn entertaining in his Kentish fortress. In 1842, he lent the castle to Queen Victoria after an outbreak of scarlet fever hit Brighton. Victoria noted that the ‘situation is charming … but the house is very small’. After the First World War, another Lord Warden, Earl Beauchamp, suddenly retreated into exile abroad to avoid an impending sex scandal. Though a married father of seven, his homosexual tastes had extended to propositioning footmen and even local fishermen at a time when it was a criminal offence. By the Second World War, Walmer was in range of enemy artillery making it too dangerous for Winston Churchill to take up residence after he became Lord Warden in 1941. For now, English Heritage will leave the Queen Mother’s 70s decor as it is until the King appoints a new Lord Warden. Who might that be? One candidate who springs to mind is his sister. Not only does the Princess Royal have a great affinity for the sea, but her husband, Sir Tim Laurence, knows the place very well — as a former chairman of English Heritage.

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AMANDA PLATELL: High-end Russian lashes made of fake mink became my £5,000-a-year beauty addiction,…

The penny really should have dropped when the highly recommended beautician, who specialised in ‘Russian’ eye lashes at a swish salon just off Harley Street, assured me her services were confidential and exclusive — then went on to share the ‘fact’ that Meghan Markle had been a client. Once, she’d even done Kate Middleton’s lashes! If I’d had my wits about me, I would have recognised that as a warning. If she couldn’t be trusted to be discreet (or truthful), perhaps there were question marks concerning her competence, too. But it was too late: one set and I was hooked. These weren’t ordinary lashes, after all, they were Russian ones, the Rolls-Royce of lashes. For those of you not au fait with the arms race in eyelash length and volume, Russian lashes involve the attachment of four or five very fine fake lashes to each of your own real ones, making them thicker and fuller than ordinary falsies, and giving them a beautiful curl. I adored them. Lustrous and natural-looking (to my eyes, anyway), Russian lashes became my very own cosmetic crack cocaine. Under Miss Harley Street, what started with harmless curiosity turned into a £300 habit, every three weeks. Yes, I know it sounds crazy, but there is something fabulous and glamorous about seeing the world through a veil of lavishly long lashes, even if the occasional one floats off into your souffle. Having full lashes — fluttering in the gym, at the pub over a casual drink, in the office — became a form of armour against the world. They made me feel invincible. But… as you can see from the picture, this is a cautionary tale. My fixation with beautiful lashes turned out to be my Achilles’ heel. And though I blame myself (a little) for my vanity, I also want women to know not to trust clinics offering permanent red-carpet glamour. For the cost, in my case, was not only my real eyelashes but, for a while at least, my face itself. My Russian lash habit was the culmination of an addiction that had begun decades ago with cheap, glued-in fake lashes — the ones that came in a strip — when I was a Saturday girl at Woolworths in the 1970s. At my all-girls school in Perth, Western Australia, make-up was forbidden, which made it all the more alluring and, of course, we broke the rules. As a very plain girl who longed to look pretty, like all the cool girls, I’d stash my mascara and magnifying mirror in my bag alongside my books and hastily apply it on the bus in the morning. At the time, the west coast of Australia felt like a long way from anywhere. I’d imagine myself strolling down the King’s Road in London, half a world away, surrounded by the glamour girls of the 1970s. I didn’t have Jerry Hall tresses, but I reckoned I had a statement look with my dark hair and black, spidery eyelashes, coated with lashings of mascara. Back then, I was often marched to the bathroom and forced to wash the mascara off with carbolic soap. It was a far cry from today — schools are now apparently allowing teenage girls to wear fake eyelashes because of ‘mental health considerations’. Last month, Knole Academy in Sevenoaks, Kent, for example, reversed its ban on them because girls were refusing to come in without falsies or were taking time off school for salon appointments to have them removed. When I read about it, I have to say I felt a pang of sympathy — while also wondering what the hell their parents are thinking, indulging and no doubt funding such extravagance, probably alongside spray tans, nail extensions and lip fillers. Millions of women now rely on fake eyelashes — the number of eyelash extension treatments has boomed. They are now the most popular salon service in the UK, even overtaking nails in spite of the proliferation of nail bars. The industry trade body Beauty Guild thinks about 129,000 lash treatments are carried out every week in the UK, meaning 6.7 million were performed last year. For me, long lashes made an insecure girl feel empowered. Fringed by thick, dark eyelashes my eyes looked more alive, more entrancing, more defined, more grown up. When I discovered falsies, I was delighted. Yes, they cost half my precious Woolworths wage and were hell to apply — you had to squirt a mini tube of glue on to the base of the lashes, then spend an hour trying to attach them to your eyelids without them ending up wonky. And yes, I often went out looking like a Picasso painting. But when I mastered the art, I thought I looked fabulous. Fast forward through my university years, later in the 1970s, when bra-burning feminism made it mandatory to go au naturel. For years I had to drop all that make-up and mascara and artifice just to fit in, although feeling quite discomfited by the sudden lack of armour. After graduating, it didn’t take long before I reverted to form, trowelling on the mascara when I was at work as a fledgling journalist in Australia. Being done up to the nines again gave me confidence professionally, and I am not ashamed to admit that fluttering those artificially extended lashes got me a bagful of big stories. I was still insecure about my looks, however, and remember the double standards between men and women back then. My boyfriend Mark — a fellow journalist — would arrive late at night after his shift had finished and drive up to my house, sweaty and dishevelled, before throwing himself into my bed. As a man, he never gave a thought to how he looked. Yet every evening I would wash my waist-length hair, cover my face in foundation and apply a heavy slick of mascara before hitting the bedroom. At one point, I did give up on the preening. That was when I married John, and we went backpacking together across the world, carefree as you like, eventually landing in London. I was confident enough to let him see my face scrubbed of cosmetics because I knew he loved me just the way I was. But when I started looking for a job, all that changed. It was back to smart suits and flawless make-up as I became a national newspaper executive. For a long time, I relied on designer brand mascaras and resisted the hit of falsies. But six years ago, while doing a fashion shoot for the Mail, the make-up artist, Desmond, suggested we try some false lashes to give my eyes some ping and make them look more mysterious. I tried to resist. I really did. But, by then, false eyelashes were more sophisticated and varied than anything I’d seen in my twenties. They were to eyes what the Wonderbra was to bosoms — uplifting, enhancing, utterly gorgeous. Desmond assured me they would look perfectly natural, were just for the shoot and he would remove them afterwards without ripping my eyelids off. Meticulously, he applied glue and then one lash to each of my natural lashes. I had to keep my eyes closed for a few minutes for it to set — which felt like an eternity — and then I looked in the mirror. Kerpow! I felt like a different woman: glamorous, more feminine, and, yes, prettier. At the end of the three-hour shoot, Desmond said he would take them off. ‘Over my dead body!’ I replied, and asked how long they would last. Up to a week, he said. I managed to keep them on for five days before they dropped off and appeared forlornly on my pillow. I was bereft. As for the Russians, it was a friend who introduced me to those. There was this beautician, she said, who used extremely fine-grade synthetic mink to create unrivalled volume and extension. The procedure would take up to two hours, and to keep them perfect, I’d need a new, or partially new, set every three weeks. I succumbed, and adored them for the first year. They didn’t feel heavy and rarely fell out when I was sleeping or removing — very carefully — my make-up at night. Their fluttery length was quite gorgeous. But I began to notice I was fitting in top-up sessions more regularly. Throughout my second year they definitely fell out more often. But it wasn’t until my third year of Russians that disaster struck. Out of nowhere, with no previous problems with my eyesight or itchiness and no swelling, I woke up looking like, well, this picture. My face was so swollen I had to cancel all my TV work and didn’t leave the house for a week. As you can see, it wasn’t just my eyelids that became infected, but my whole face from my forehead to my chin. I went to my doctor, who prescribed antibiotics and a horrible, gooey anti-inflammatory eye cream. They said the infection was caused by lashes being glued not on to my lashes — as many of them had fallen out — but actually on to my upper-eyelid. Then — and this was perhaps the worst part of the whole experience — I visited a new beautician to have the Russians removed, only to discover I had virtually no natural eyelashes left. After years of being subjected to chemical glue, my real lashes had thinned, weakened and grown in much smaller. Some were barely stubs. I now know that you should wear Russian lashes for no more than six months at a time before giving your real lashes a chance to recover. But I loved them too much. I might occasionally have asked my Harley Street beautician if I was overdoing it, but she reassured me my own lashes were healthy and there was no need to take the Russian extensions off. On my rough estimate, my lash addiction cost me around £5,000 a year. But the price I paid in the end was far greater, for my lashes have never properly recovered. Even several years later, they’re much thinner and shorter than they used to be. I could kick myself for my vanity. Today, I use much subtler false eyelashes. My favourites are Eylure Naturals no.31 as they give a little extra length and fullness for a natural look and I can apply them myself using latex-free glue. They only last up to 18 hours, but that’s enough of a treat. They don’t damage your real lashes, and they cost around £10 from Boots. I can see why teenagers — surrounded by unrealistic images of influencers and celebrities on Instagram, TikTok and Snapchat — believe a bit of lip filler, Botox and false eyelashes will increase their chance of happiness. But I can tell them from painful experience that, in the end, false eyelashes have to come off (or fall off) and the only thing you’re left with is damaged lashes and lids — and a dent in your wallet. Take another look at that picture of me — and you’ll understand why going under the lash can be a risky business.

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After a furious Millennial wrote in the Mail that her parents were burning through her inheritance,…

Earlier this week an impecunious 34-year-old Millennial wrote a scathing attack in the Mail on her Baby Boomer parents for spending her inheritance on new cars and lavish foreign holidays. According to a new survey she’s not alone in her resentment; two in five adult children feel their ‘blood boiling’ at the idea their parents are doing just this. Yet the article triggered a deluge of outrage, with you writing to us in your droves. Here, the Boomers fight back . . . Chanel bags? My money, my choice! I am now 64, and although I can officially retire next year and claim my state pension, I intend to work until I am at least 70 to have some decent savings behind me. My plan then is for my husband and I to have as many luxury holidays as we can afford — and by the end of the year, I want the Chanel handbag I have been lusting after. I won’t get much change out of £10,000 for the bag, but it is my money and I will spend it how I choose. We have both worked damned hard all our lives. ‘Anonymous’ should get off their lazy backside and earn more of their own money instead of hanging around, waiting for their parents to die to lay claim to what they think they are entitled to. Get a life, and let your parents live theirs. Name supplied, Croydon, Surrey. This money-grabbing wretch makes me livid Wow! Ungrateful, money-grabbing little wretch. I’m of your parents’ generation and you make me livid. I started work at 16 and worked, with breaks for children, for 45 years. My parents lived in council housing all their lives and didn’t leave me a bean when they died. We had barely enough to cover their funerals. When married and living in a pokey one-bedroom flat, I had to borrow money from my brother for a pair of glasses. The 1970s were miserable, with strikes and inflation. By a mixture of hard work, long hours, frugality and now the state pension, to which I contributed, I’m hardly rolling in it, but am comfortably off. But your generation expect us to put our freedom aside to babysit your children and use us as a future cash cow while we slowly vegetate in our front rooms watching rubbish telly so as not to spend your inheritance. It is not your money, never was, and with your attitude hopefully never will be. Grow up and take responsibility. Name supplied, Brighton, East Sussex. You know how selfish you sound Of course you wrote your article anonymously; you and your friend are well aware of how selfish and entitled you sound. Being a similar age to your spendthrift parents — they would have grown up in the 1950s and 1960s — we didn’t have cars, we lived in council houses if we were lucky and our parents worked hard to make ends meet. We didn’t have day trips except through local churches or Dad’s job. Our fathers were rarely at home due to work. In those days, we were pleased for them on their retirement if they were lucky enough to get a works pension or a golden handshake. Some had managed to buy their council houses and so, rent-free, they tottered off on coach trips to the Costas and came back with sombreros and straw donkeys. And they deserved it, as your parents deserve to spend their retirement however they like. So maybe you aren’t on the property ladder yet; my heart bleeds. You do realise that to get your inheritance you have to lose your parents? They have to become ill and die, and you won’t see them any more. Will your inheritance be a comfort to you in your grief? Also anonymous. And enraged. I lost out to banks, lawyers and tax Many years ago a cousin sent me a ‘Wish you were here’ card from the Bahamas. She wrote ‘Gone Skiing!’ I smelled a rat as I could not envisage her water-skiing. On her return she explained over the telephone that SKI stood for Spending the Kids Inheritance. From a deranged mother who, in Ireland, should have passed the family farm to her only son, and an alcoholic father-in-law, I learned that inheritance was virtually worthless. I ‘lost’ both good farms. The hospitals, banks, lawyers and the government swallowed what should have been mine. I am blessed to have a shirt on my back now. Donough McGillycuddy, Grantham, Lincs. My children must work hard, as I did Reading ‘Anonymous’s’ words, I didn’t know whether to smile or bellow with rage. Many children of our generation were bought up in council houses and rented homes. Our parents worked to give us everything we wanted, but there was no inheritance and we didn’t expect one. I worked from the age of 15 to 72 and I expect my children to work hard, too. David Lings, Nottingham. Get a grip! I worked two jobs to survive how bloody dare you? I’m 65 and started with nothing — no inheritance when I bought my first home with a mortgage with a 13.5 per cent interest rate (and ‘Anonymous’ calls it an ‘impossibly expensive property market’ now). Get a grip! I worked for it. I had two jobs, day and night. I saved. I went without. I have worked all my life, and still do. Does ‘Anonymous’ really believe they are entitled to all of this hard-earned income? No, they are not. I will enjoy the fruits of my labour while I can. I’m glad ‘Anonymous’ is not my child. With that attitude, they’d be left nothing! A. Firm, Rushden, Northants. I told mum to treat herself, not me How dare these entitled adult ‘children’ expect their parents’ money and time! The parents have presumably worked long and hard and are now, sensibly and deservedly, spending their own money and time having wonderful holidays — good for them. The writer sounds like a ghastly, selfish person and I was horrified by the opinions in her article. Before my beloved Mum died many years ago, I used to beg her to treat herself and not save her money for me. Gillie Coghlan, Burford, Oxfordshire. Parents will have the last laugh I laughed out loud reading the article about grown-up ‘children’ depending on inheritances to fund their later lifestyles. Good on those parents making the most of their lives. Just wait until such children find out that rather than ‘travelling the world’, their parents indulged in equity release to fund their heating bills and general living expenses. Too proud (as is that generation’s way) to ask for help from their often absent kids, when they found themselves short of money, they might have turned to this apparently easy option of raising cash on their property. When the Last Will and Testament is read, maybe there will be a huge shock for the children if the financial institutions own a huge portion of the equity contained in ‘their’ expected windfall. Still giggling. Linda Kendall, Rayleigh, Essex. I won’t blow the lot, but I’ll have fun What a selfish, sad person ‘Anonymous’ sounds. Perhaps she has no idea how her parents very likely struggled in their early married life, and possibly went without a fair bit in order to give their daughters a happy childhood. I would like to think a lot of it was written tongue-in-cheek. However, there was a very selfish undertone to it. Thank goodness I have two very understanding grown-up adult children who are all for me enjoying myself while I still can. I was married to their father for 25 years and life was most definitely hand-to-mouth sometimes. Things got better, but we were never by any stretch of the imagination well off. When my marriage ended, I spent a very happy seven-and-a-half years with a new partner, living it up and going on some extremely enjoyable holidays. Sadly, he died, so I am back with a small pension that just about tops up my old age pension. But both my children are in favour of me using my house (which is mortgage-free) to fund future holidays. I obviously want to leave a legacy for them so would never ‘blow the lot’. However, I feel so proud of the fact that they are not at all greedy and money-grabbing like the girl who wrote the article. She should be happy that her parents, who are lucky to have one another, can enjoy life to the full. Please, please don’t deprive your mum and dad of their happiness. They won’t be around for ever! Barb Sawyers, Bristol. May we assume that ‘Anonymous’ will preserve her own money for her own offspring by living abstemiously? Ken Eales, Godalming, Surrey. No one is entitled to an inheritance My husband and I never expected any inheritance from our parents or grandparents, (which we never got). Instead, we worked hard. We went years without a holiday. I worked the hours I was able to during the day, so that I was there to look after my son — after all, he was my responsibility not my mum’s. I also did a cleaning job at night after my husband got in at 8pm, after a 12-hour shift, when he would then take over the childcare. Why do young people today think they are entitled to their parents’ hard-earned money instead of working hard for their own? Maybe if they put as much effort into going out to work, instead of moaning about what their parents are doing, they might not need to count on their inheritance for a leg-up. Sharon Young, Hornchurch, Essex. What ‘essentials’ have you given up? It may take longer to save for a mortgage deposit these days, but what modern ‘essentials’ are being given up in order to do so? Getting married in the late 1970s we had an old car, and sat on deckchairs with no TV for the first 12 months in order to save before starting a family five years later. Not a thought of a leg-up or inheritance from our parents. Assume no inheritance and plan accordingly, which will mean hard work, long hours and much sacrifice — and learn from the Baby Boomers and stop moaning! Paul Stanley, Brackley, Northamptonshire. We wouldn’t leave her a penny! What right have children got to blame their parents for having a wonderful retirement and, according to them, ‘spending our inheritance’? My wife and I have two children, and if we thought that they were of the same opinion as ‘Anonymous’, we would not leave them a penny. Fortunately, our kids are the complete opposite and encourage us to spend our money. J. and J. Burgess, Fuerteventura. Don’t speculate to accumulate Years ago, my mother sat me down to explain how she was arranging her will and how it would affect me. I quickly brought the conversation to an abrupt conclusion. I told Mum to enjoy whatever she had. If there was anything left, I would be very grateful for whatever I should receive. What I did not want was to be speculating on what I could get. Five years later she passed away and her legacy was sadly but gratefully received. Thanks Mum! Name supplied, Isle of Man. I’m going to live forever, so there! This article made me determined to live out of pure spite! Jennifer Brewer, Eastbourne, East Sussex.

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Vietnam’s president resigns in latest twist of anti-graft campaign shaking its fast-growing economy

BANGKOK (AP) — Vietnam’s president resigned in the latest episode of the ruling Communist Party’s “blazing furnace” anti-corruption campaign, and Vice President Vo Thi Anh Xuan was named acting president. The appointment is Xuan’s second stint as acting president after she stepped in when Vo Van Thuong’s predecessor resigned in early 2023. The turmoil among top leaders is raising questions about Vietnam’s political stability as its fast-growing economy plays an increasingly important role in world supply chains. Vietnam depends heavily on exports and foreign investment, but its leaders have been tightening the party’s grip on power and cracking down on dissent as well as widespread corruption. Analysts say the turnover in leadership pinned to the anti-graft campaign also stems from rivalries within the ruling party. VIETNAM’S POLITICAL SHAKEUP Thuong is the second leader in two years to resign as president, a largely ceremonial role. The most powerful post is held by Communist Party general secretary Nguyen Phu Trong. Xuan’s appointment as acting president until the National Assembly meets to elect a new president is a rare instance of a woman ascending to a top political post in the Southeast Asian country. In announcing Thuong’s departure, state media said his violations had “left a bad mark on the reputation of the Communist Party.” His resignation came days after the former chief of Quang Ngai province, in central Vietnam, was arrested on suspicion of corruption. Thuong is a former party chief of the province. Thuong was a protege of Trong, who has headed the party since 2011 and is 79, and it’s unclear how this change might Vietnam’s future leadership. WHO IS VIETNAM’S ACTING PRESIDENT? Xuan, 54, has been vice president since 2021. A former high school teacher, she is Vietnam’s first female president, but she was acting president for six weeks last year after Nguyen Xuan Phuc resigned as president in the midst of a scandal linked to Vietnam’s response to the COVID-19 pandemic. Reports in Vietnam’s state media say Xuan studied chemistry teaching and holds a master’s degree in public administration. She initially rose in party ranks as a leader of the women’s union in southern Vietnam’s An Giang province. Official media give little further information about Xuan. WHAT IS THE LIKELY IMPACT OF THIS RESHUFFLE? Vietnam’s economy has boomed over the past decade as foreign investment poured in and the country became a preferred alternative to China as relations festered between Beijing and Washington. The flood of foreign investment, especially in manufacturing of high-tech products like smart phones and computers, raised expectations it would become yet another “Asian tiger” economy. Since nearly half of Vietnam’s manufacturing involves multinational companies, investor confidence is vital. Analysts say the anti-corruption campaign has paid some dividends in cracking down on illegal fees and other costs for domestic businesses. But it has also brought on a flurry of scandals and raised political uncertainty. Economic growth slipped to 5.1% last year from 8% in 2022, as exports slowed. Vietnam’s leaders have also drastically narrowed the scope for dissent in the country, jailing clean energy experts as well as environmental activists. Meanwhile, the anti-corruption campaign, described by Trong as a “blazing furnace,” has netted thousands of business people and officials. Real estate tycoon Truong My Lan is facing a possible death penalty for allegedly embezzling $12.5 billion. Lan’s trial began earlier this month in Ho Chi Minh City. It’s Vietnam’s largest financial fraud case on record, amounting to nearly 3% of the country’s 2022 GDP. WHAT’S NEXT? Vietnam’s leaders are next due to convene a Communist Party congress in early 2026. Until then, experts say, there may be more turmoil as rivals to take Trong’s place jostle for dominance. The anti-corruption drive also has made Vietnam’s bureaucracy more cautious, with “public officials becoming anxious about being investigated and shirking their responsibilities,” according to a report from Singapore’s ISEAS-Yusof Ishak Institute. Government spending has slowed for similar reasons, state media have reported. “Even after the new president is elected, political infighting will likely persist until 2026 unless a clear succession plan for Trong is announced,” Le Hong Hiep, a senior fellow and coordinator of the Vietnam Studies Program at the ISEAS – Yusof Ishak Institute in Singapore said in a report. “In the meantime, investors and Vietnam’s partners will have to live with the country’s new political realities,” he said. ___ Associated Press writer Aniruddha Ghosal in Hanoi, Vietnam, contributed to this report. Elaine Kurtenbach, The Associated Press

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What the papers say – March 22

The report on women’s pensions affected by rises in retirement age dominates the front pages of Friday’s newspapers. The Daily Mirror and Daily Express share the same message, saying women born in the 1950s need to be paid what they are owed after years of campaigning. The Waspi (Women Against State Pension Inequality) campaigners face a “new betrayal” according to the Daily Mail, which says they will receive far short of the £10,000 compensation they wanted. The i says the women have thrown down the gauntlet to Labour to pay compensation if the party wins the next general election. The Government faces a bill of £10.5 billion to meet the recommended payments, reports The Independent, while the Metro puts the cost at £35 billion if the full £10,000 payment is agreed. The Guardian turns its attention to the Israel-Hamas conflict, saying the US has toughened its stance to call for an “immediate ceasefire” in Gaza. The cost of sickness benefits occupies The Daily Telegraph, which says the cost will rise to £90.9 billion by the end of the decade. The Times is on similar ground, saying mental health has become the leading cause of disability among working-age people with one million more struggling with issues than three years ago. The Financial Times focuses on the US accusing Apple of building an illegal smartphone monopoly. And the Daily Star says a Botswanan politician has threatened to send 10,000 elephants to live in Hyde Park.

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Julie Robinson Belafonte, Dancer, Actress and Activist, Is Dead at 95

Julie Robinson Belafonte, a dancer, actress and, with the singer Harry Belafonte, one half of an interracial power couple who used their high profiles to aid the civil rights movement and the cause of integration in the United States, died on March 9 in Los Angeles. She was 95. Her death, at an assisted living facility in the Studio City neighborhood, was announced by her family. She had resided there for the last year and nine months after living for decades in Manhattan. Ms. Belafonte, who was white and the second wife of Mr. Belafonte, the Black Caribbean-American entertainer and activist, had an eclectic career in the arts. At various times she was a dancer, a choreographer, a dance teacher, an actress and a documentary film producer.

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