Archive | September, 2009

Superlative Vapidity

22 Sep

In honour of Fashion Week:

Fashion evolves in routine.  Certain stylistic trends that I can just about remember my mother wearing are now adorned by me, for example, the power shoulder.  I expect to enjoy this trend again at a later point in my life and I must take full advantage of this fashion now so, a) I save money on shoulder pads and b) so my kids have proof I was cool.  Approximately one year ago, I would have laughed in the face of a power shoulder, now I find them as utterly unfunny as a fanny pack (also making a come back FYI).  Thus, it is becoming increasingly hard for the fashion industry to accurately predict what current comedy will turn into fashion, knowing as we all do, that the jokes of today have already have been heard by a generation. 


This look however, might be as beautiful as a shaved cat is funny.


In the Inbox

18 Sep


Sent: 18 September 2009 11:15
Subject: Morning…

What kind of mood is the boss in before i put in a phone call? All jolly at base camp?

How are you today? Sore head?

Sorry we didn’t get to chat over a bottle of Punk last night, think it was the Punk that was cause for me to duck out early.


Sent: 18 September 2009 11:32
Subject: Re: I got teased for snogging you last night…


Sent: 18 September 2009 13:47
Subject: May you know when to surrender, and do so with grace.
Importance: High


An abundance of positive (post party) gestation, all for me…

Is There Life On Mars?

16 Sep

It’s great being back in the big smoke after a stint in outer space.  I was predominantly there to fulfil my role in a military run programme to combat an extra-terrestrial militia.  I adopted a relaxed approach to the warfare and furthermore, ended up partaking in a few of their ritual moon light dances, which I found to be mildly cynical at times (hi Kraftwerk).  Aspects of my weekend however, did have a regimental feel to them.  My commanding officer Ms. Jones, did a first-rate job organising the most conspicuous uniforms and surplus which undoubtedly confused the opposition due to our sheer resemblance to them!


Looking at this picture, you would be scared, yes?

The Space juice consumed made the planet hard to navigate and I can’t help thinking this was part of an undercover mission to make us into prototypes of ourselves with minor variations- I believe it was successful, as on an occasion we had to retire to base camp.

Many things were backwards on this strange planet, the male species for example wore Balmain esq. power shoulder dresses while the females wore military fighting boots.  They all looked more intoxicated than expected but more sober than they looked.


I can only laugh nervously when asked about the mission and besides from hallucinatory envy, I have to admit there’s nothing better than hoards of wandering alienites.

Enough of That

7 Sep

Since I’ve been old enough to fill in an application form, I have been able to submit myself to the world with a variety of different identities.  This is owing to a decision by my father to pick up his mother’s maiden name at the end of her family’s evolutionary stem, thus creating a neat double barrelled surname for the four of us.  I nevertheless, fleetingly pick up and put down this name whenever it suits me and conveniently use it at my disposal when I am a) applying for jobs or b) being arrested, both cases where you need to adopt some sort of regal hierarchy. 

My parents and brother remain loyal to the name which often causes some genetic confusion about who is related to whom and raises the question “was Georgie actually adopted?” Rightly so; my brother for example uses his double barrel on facebook throwing a proverbial spanner in the works, weakening his biological/ social networking association with me.  The root of all this lies in the primary letter of the name which enforces this fickle attitude in me.  If I add in the double barrel, my initials become G.A.S.H.


Picture of my dad I drew at like 15.

As a young, honey-blonde child, I thought it completely undignified to have initials which spelt out a word that related to rubbish.  Whenever I saw it written down, it would immediately conjured up an image of a fat garbologist on my doorstep picking up a steaming bin liner, dripping with juice…That’s what my initials signify, bin juice.  Henceforth, I banned use of the name at school, university and appearing on any legal documentation (apart from my birth certificate and passport of which I had no control over).  Until recently, I have been blissfully ignorant to the other allegories my part-time initials evoke.  You can imagine how shocked I was when I regrettably came across the word Gash, whilst scanning the Urban Dictionary recently.  What I found is rather astonishing and puts my initials into a more sickening, perverse category.

The Urban Dictionary defines them as follows:

1. Waste Gash

a) A girl who is just a waste of time and space. (In contextI can’t believe she did dat, da girl’s such a waste gash)   

b) A girl who is ‘wasted’ so is therefore easy to pull.  (In context- ‘I’ve gotta pull with this CK aftershave on’, ‘Mate, you’ll only ever get waste gash’)

2. gash

a) A british slang term very commonly used (especially in London or at least the more urban areas of London like south east) to mean a girl/female/woman. Mostly used by rudey boys, “gangstas” and chavs. (In context- Der were bare gash at dat skool = there were lots of girls at that school)

3. Gash

a) A word to describe a rubbish thing or a private part of the female anatomy. (In context- What a gash day, there has been so much rain!!!  Did you get any gash last night?)

I never thought my initials to be explicit.  They are.

I also found out from Google, that a band called Foetus named their 1995 album “Gash”, that the Gash River flows out of Ethiopia, that Gash is slang for cannabis (Wrong. Is it not hash?), that Chuck Fender has a song called “Gash Dem”, that Gash also stands for Gloucestershire Association of Secondary Headteachers (do they know the implications of this? Clearly not), and that Kylie from Vice puts on a night called GASH in East London and uses this picture as her MySpace background; Genius.


Thank you father, you have generated such exquisite abnormality in me.


(I am not trying to seduce you)

3 Sep


Twice in the past month I have encountered the familiar beat of the Macarena pulsating out of the radio.  For me, this song epitomises along with; Tamagotchis, Beavis and Butthead and Leonardo DiCaprio, the mid-90’s.

The minimalist moves of the Macarena allowed me to disregard my coordination issues and thus believe myself to be at the height of sophistication having the textbook routine down to a tee.  Soon enough, people wanted in on a piece of the action and at one particular party I had a whole entourage, grown-ups and all, dancing to the Macarena under my instruction.  Even after the song left the charts, I still milked my extraordinary talent for many subsequent years.

In retrospect, the whole demeanour of the song is perhaps not suited to an irresolute 11 year old girl, I’m sure my parents did not promote my talent beyond close friend and family parties.  Yet, on hearing the song on the radio, I was immediately transported to a bygone era, one that was joyful but where my youthful motives are now, totally bewildering to me.