Vogue turns out to be a completely lovely long black-haired, blue-eyed girl with a two-year-old son and what sounds like a mother who made her love felt even through the series of nannies. Vogue comes down into reception - which, exactly like The Devil Wears Prada, is populated by very tall people in very high shoes - bearing gifts of latest edition glossy magazines, than which there is no better treat.
The baby son and the mother were not at lunch, but Vogue asked me, "how is it with four children, how does that work, loving them all?" And I said, "I know...I was so worried when I was pregnant with my second, how could I ever compensate for the fact that I'd used up all the love on the first, I could never love another the same...but it just works, your heart just stretches, you can feel it happening." And she said that her mother had told her the same thing. Which I thought was very nice. She is the second of seven children, I am the fifth of six.
We did have the clothes conversation too. She said, "it's just how it is at Vogue, you do have to wear the clothes." She had a pirate-y, fluffy salmon pink silk blouse thing on, and some animal print huge bag. She hasn't seen The Devil Wears Prada though, because there's the husband and son and the problem of getting babysitters.
And of course, we talked about the book, and its pretty cover, and the piece I will do for them.
Meanwhile, in another part of London, the mothers' network was organising another nifty bit of marketing. Elaine, who I met in the school playground first of all, spoke to Emma (whose brother I was at university with) and Emma spoke to the Sun newspaper and the woman at the Sun is now being sent some proof chapters of Take Off Your Party Dress. So, we will see...
Tomorrow - a mid winter term school break - we are off to EuroDisney, where I will get to see how the most superb marketing experts of them all do it. If I can't learn something, anything, from Disney, then I guess I will be running that marathon after all.