Walk like an American

I had a Mommy's Day Off on Sunday and went into London to meet up with my friend Natasha. Natasha isn't married and doesn't have children and it's always such a treat to see her and talk about things other than husbands, children, mortgages and schools. Not that I don't like talking about those things, but a change is nice every once in a while.

We went to see the Americans in Paris exhibition at the National Gallery and had lunch in the new Dining Rooms beforehand. Natasha was running late so I ordered a glass of wine and read my book uninterrupted for half an hour. That alone was worth coming out for. While I was waiting I noticed an elderly couple attempting to take a photo of themselves. The restaurant overlooks Trafalgar Square and has lovely views. I could tell they were American so I walked over and offered to take the photo for them. They were from New York and were very sweet, spending three weeks in the UK and having a lovely time. They asked where I was from and what I was doing in London and I got the usual 'Oh, your parents must miss you so much.'

After Natasha arrived we had a wonderful lunch. The restaurant uses only local, organic, in-season foods and everything from the bread to the salmon was delicious and so fresh. The exhibition was very well done, not too big but with a good variety of work. I saw some artists that I had never heard of before and saw some familiar friends too. I was very pleased to see that they had included Whistler's Mother which I had never seen except in books. Much larger and more powerful that I had imagined.

It was interesting to think about all of these Americans living abroad in Paris. Through the work you could see how they would start out trying to out-French the French and then eventually find a balance that incorporated what they had learned in Paris but allowed their unique talents to shine through. I could really identify with that process, the attempt to blend in and the realisation that that ain't never gonna happen.

Even in the paintings you could tell when a subject was American or European. Something about the way we move, the way we hold ourselves. There's always an informality, a casualness, that marks us out. You can spot Americans in London from a mile away. If it's not baseball caps and sneakers it the way we walk - loose-limbed arms swinging, somehow taking up more space than anyone else. I guess in the States we have a lot more space available.

I know I've adapted in many ways to living in England. I think that after such a long time it would be strange if I hadn't changed. My vocabulary is different, my accent is all over the place and I do my best to respect and follow the etiquette and social guidelines, but I hope I never lose my American physicality. I love the insouciance, the carefree naturalness in the way we move. I would feel very sad to lose it. I'm not worried yet though. The other day I was in a cafe with Rosie and Toby. The stroller was pushed right up next to my chair and when I needed to get up, instead of moving the stroller so I could easily stand up, I just kicked one leg and then the other over the stroller and then stood up. Not quite what a proper English girl would do.