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July 30, 2006
Trinny! Susannah! Come back, We love you really.
So yes, I return from my internet break (hi and how are you by the way?) only to talk about the weather. Well not so much the weather but what one must wear in this sweltering cry of help from Mother Earth.
For about 361 days of the year, I wear combats. Forget the wheel, the telephone and the Internet, the combat trouser is the single most important invention in the world ever. Thick, sturdy and practical, with plenty of pockets for your phone, keys and purse what more can you want in an item of clothing. I even had a pair of combats once with pockets the size of an average sized paperback. God I miss those trousers.
But there comes a time of year when the thermometer soars above 25 degrees and I can no longer bear the thought of drowning in a pool of my own sweat, tinted slightly green by the dye from the trousers and I have to face the fact that I can no longer avoid wearing Something Else.
The question is what? I’ve yet to discover a pair of shorts that are flattering on anyone above the age of about eight; those three-quarter length things - what are they? Trousers? Shorts? Make up your mind; and those long gypsy skirts - they are truly lovely but I have ruined at least three by tripping over the bottom and ripping those pretty little tiers to shreds. And then there’s the colour problem. I only wear dark colours. Not because I’m about to drone along to my Marilyn Manson CDs about how nobody understands me, but for the simple reason that black doesn’t show the tomato ketchup and my pores ooze ketchup, even before I’ve decided what we are having for dinner.
Now I have this useful wrap around skirt that I drag out on just such occasions, it fits the criteria perfectly, being made up of a grey and black checked pattern with a row of burgundy elephants along the bottom to show that occasionally I do partake of this summer spirit thing. To top it all off it flutters to a delicate halt around the middle of my calves, baring to the poor, unsuspecting world just enough milky white leg. Just before I go out, I always do a spot check. Yes it really is 34 degrees (as there is nothing more embarrassing than battling a blizzard the day after summer armed with only a pair of flip flops, a wrap around skirt and a vest top); and yes, the knot in my skirt is something any Girl Guide would be proud to claim as their own.
All checked and I’m off, with a spring in my step full of the joys of summer. That is until about the time when it’s too late to turn back and suddenly I’m almost swept over by a gust of wind. By ‘gust of wind’ I mean that slight tingling sensation along your hairline, where at last you can freely take a breath, that fleeting moment when you no longer feel like your head is about to implode under the pressure from the intense humidity. But you forget, I am wearing a wrap around skirt, that sigh of relief is as effective as a force nine gale.
It is too late I’m just not quick enough, no sooner have I moved my arms to stop it and half my skirt is flapping high, level with my hip and as fast as it rises, it falls back down again and I am left red faced and cautiously clinging to the sides of my skirt like some sort of tenth-rate Marilyn Monroe, with underwear from Primark and thighs from the citrus counter in Tesco’s.
They say that today was the last of this hot weather. I hope so because these combats are sure as hell sticking to my legs.
By the way if anyone knows how to fix this comment problem, email me.
Posted by purple elephant at 10:41 PM |
July 08, 2006
How to feel on 7/7 by Ms Kaplinski..
Please tell me I’m not the only one slightly infuriated and nauseated by this mawkish public display of sentimentality as regards the first anniversary of the London bombings. There is almost nothing that prickles me more than being told by the media, or anyone else for that
matter, how and when, to feel; that if I don’t put down my books at precisely midday on the 7th July, and stare thoughtfully into space for two minutes, I am disrespectful, that my reaction is not
valid somehow.
I’m not so arrogant and self-centred as to assume that my emotions are in any way akin to those who may have lost someone close to them, or those who narrowly escaped, nor even those who began that long walk home in the evening of that fateful day a year ago. Nor would I insult those directly involved by referring to what I feel as ‘grief’; concern for the future, bewilderment or respect maybe but certainly not grief.
And yet when it came down to it, all I could feel yesterday was anger, not so much at the bombers condemned as ‘evil’ by the unforgiving religious leaders, but at the coverage by the
BBC and their use of language, aimed to cajole me into a collective way of viewing the events. For example last night on the Six o’Clock News Natasha Kapilinski insisted that ‘the bombers didn’t care how many lives they ruined’. Can she back this up with evidence? Can she prove without a shadow of a doubt that any one of the bombers was not wracked with regret as they pulled the trigger? No? Well then can we please stop passing such emotive speculation off, as objective news...
If we are to really make sense of what happened and hopefully to prevent such a tragic loss of life in the future, then we need to take a step away from the collective comfort of our cliched
adversity in the face of evil and think for ourselves. Then and only then will we be able to move on.
Posted by purple elephant at 08:50 AM |
July 04, 2006
Perspective.
I have to admit, a tear or two did find its way to the corner of my eye whilst watching that heartbreaking footage at the weekend. I couldn’t help it, it was the thought of those young men bravely doing their best, in a foreign land, for their country, for the likes of you and me.
And to have their futures so brutally and unnecessarily snatched from them like that. It’s a disgrace, an injustice and we should never forget the suffering that occurred on our behalf..
I was thinking of the 90th anniversary of the Somme. Why what did you think I was talking about?
Posted by purple elephant at 11:41 PM |