Archive | August, 2009

Summery

31 Aug

This may have been one of the most depressing days of the year so far.  Every year I have reservations about the August bank holiday weekend, precisely because of the feeling installed in me today.  I can only approximate it to the ‘holiday blues’, but without the holiday.  Tomorrow it’s September, and from a subjective point of view, the beginning of autumn. The summer ends right here…

Iphone2 019Remedy for end of summer blues- blabber, beer and incense.

Furthermore, I have spent the whole weekend in a tête-à-tête with my brother, listening to him converse about his latest holiday in St. Tropez, where he drank magnums of Grey Goose vodka, eyed up Russian models and associated with an American rapper named ‘San-Tropez-Jay’ who didn’t discriminate but repeatedly informed everyone, in case in doubt, that he preferred ‘The Woman’. Safe.

I would like to point out that at this stage in the year, I have had no continental/ overseas holidays but that collectively, my family have visited the following destinations in 2009:

  1. Cambodia
  2. Vietnam
  3. Hong Kong
  4. Thailand
  5. Australia
  6. Ibiza
  7. A couple of islands near Ibiza
  8. South Africa
  9. Mozambique
  10. St. Tropez
  11. Luncheon trip TODAY somewhere in Northern France- WTF?

I nevertheless, enjoyed a trip to Newcastle in July and all I got was a lousy Northern palette.

Knowing that tomorrow we will have completed the holiday season, that the shade of burnt orange will relocate from summer skin to fallen leaves, and that Saturday nights will predominantly revolve around X-Factor- leaves me with a troubling sensation that I may have confused being responsible in 2009, with being boring in 2009.

Iphone2 035Look at the plane.

On a lighter note…Bestival in two weeks! I get to dress up as a mo-fo U.F.O.

Demons of Stupidity

29 Aug

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It seems that each time I return home, there is a new gadget in the house.  This time, there are two major league players in the form of a surround sound system in the living room and a hulk of a pencil sharpener in the office.  If I’m honest, between these two things there will be little time to spare this weekend.

 If  for some reason I find myself with a lonely couple of hours at hand, I shall be attempting a ‘Moron Test’ P.B, my preferred iPhone application merely because I am repeatedly told that 6 out of 10 chimpanzees consider me SLIGHTLY SMART.

Trippin’ on Skittles Y’all

27 Aug

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Look at this blatant colour crisis.  I painted my nails in this fashion so I could use my hands as hazard signals.

Giving Fashion a Run for Her $$$

25 Aug

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The former me would have been Horrified.  Or, she would have been, had she seen me sashaying through London Fields yesterday in an exposing tent dress and a pair of light reflecting trainers.  The latter are fine if you are working out in the dark, but if you’re having a BBQ in the middle of hip city, leave the floral vintage/ trainer combo behind (unless you are Lily Allen circa 2006).

About 6 months ago, before I dedicated the rest of my life to becoming a financially hindered writer, I was infused with glamour (honest).  Now, I have lost all sense of sartorial decency and can be found chafing against the rails of the docile-casual section, dressing with the alluring constituents of a Polish nun.  On top of this, the gentleman in my life really makes me come up short.  If he insists on being part of the East London elite (the boys who actually don’t dress like fish mongers), and wearing exclusive shoes, I would be grateful if he’d opt out of walking next to his very own vision of camping equipment.  Consequently, it won’t look like I’m punching way above my weight.

Nevertheless, I am flooded with a sense of breathless excitement at the realisation that, if I stealthily slink into his cupboard, not only will I have full access to my very own oversized, androgynous wardrobe, I can regain my dress sense and thus become one half of a couple that take part in twee ensemble collaborations.

A+ fantastic!

gal_matching_08 (3)

I do not want to be inappropriately ambitious about this, but I am not going to be one of those goddamn adults who forsook fashion at a formidable age and ended up with no dress sense whatsoever.

Inbound

22 Aug

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Second cloud to the left and straight on till morning.

Yoof Amalgamation

21 Aug

An explanation of the Hinglish language by a couple of Anglo-Indian girls who hang out in Hyde Park.

A.I Girl:  “We’re good at con…contraction here”

Spanish Girl:  “What do you mean?”

A.I Girl:  “Well, we’ll say ‘saljida innit’, which means ‘I’m good thanks’ but then we’ll add innit on the end…”

Spanish Girl:  “Oh, so does that figure of speech come from the East?”

A.I Girl:  “What, East London? Yeah, it’s like a feature of the cockney accent, innit”

A.I Girl 2:  “It’s, ‘isn’t it’ that’s been contracted to ‘innit’”

Spanish Girl:  “I love the British accent”

I’d advise the use of the Queens English, so not to confuse the universe like this.

Calefaction

19 Aug

There is little more I can do in this heat than give in to my British constitution and become consumed by the inexplicable ailments I suffer when the temperature rises above the standard 21 degrees.  This is what happens to me on hot days.  I leave the office and walk, to the bank, to pick up my bosses new glasses or to buy a sandwich, and after a minute or so from stepping out onto the melting tarmac, I get a strange feeling on the top of my head.  It is a feeling of extreme pressure, as if a turban were being applied tightly.  I then get a sense of immovable lethargy, as an elderly donkey might get, excused of any energy, and my eyes begin to blur.

I hope this is the atmospheric pressure and not that I have reached the age where my existence must depend largely on living within a sustainable temperature. Holiday please.

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Other reasons the heat does not coincide with comfort:

 1. While sucking on a roundish ice lolly, I walk past a man who smiles and raises his eyebrows suggestively at me (I forgot that eating an ice lolly in London means you want to partake in monkey business.  Next time this happens I will wave a nut cracker in his face, that should set the record straight). How else are you supposed eat a lolly that shape? To lick it, would not provide a dissimilar effect. 

   twister

2. Unveiling of pale, excess skin.

3.  Men give birth to live, giant pigeons.

pigeon2