''A lively & talkative member of the class''

I have nothing to fear but my lack of genius

Bite me!

Oh joy unbound The Vampire Diaries is back!! How could this have passed me by? The Brook has taken himself off to bed after a particularly exhausting day and an emotionally draining football match, which has given me the opportunity to get my hands on the remote and watch some filthy forbidden TV.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t really believe in Vampires and I am aware that the Vampire Diaries is about as well written and believable as the conservatives social policy. However, I admit it, I enjoy it and I am very willing to suspend my disbelief for 60 minutes not least to gaze upon the delightfully sinister pretty face of  Damon Salvatore (aka - Ian Somerhalder).

Is it just me or does he look a lot like a young Rob Lowe pre sex scandal, pre West Wing post St Elmo’s Fire. As much as I enjoy an imperfection, I do have a soft spot for a pretty face.

Separates at birth anyone?

So I am going to go and catch up with the horrific high school machinations of the most mature looking undead teenagers in tinseltown. Tuesday will henceforth be known as ‘horror’ night as it contains a double dose of fright. Tuesday night also being my comedy course night which continues to make my pulse run fast with fear. The definition of fear being:

"a distressing negative sensation induced by a perceived threat. It is a basic survival mechanism occurring in response to a specific stimulus, such as pain or the threat of danger. In short, fear is the ability to recognise danger leading to an urge to confront it or flee from it”

Should I continue to confront it or FLEE?

Only boring people get bored…

…Someone once told me. Now, if this is indeed true then I am boring because I am bored, bored, bored. Not generally, I have plenty to keep me occupied, not least with my many mind improving and mind softening books, not to mention de bobbling my woollen items and organising my tights by denier, gradation of colour fading and general wear and tear. SO no not because I am lacking in things to do or imagine but with ALL, yes ALL of my clothes, my hair and my look generally. So I am looking for some inspiration and I have found it in the form of these most stylish, most strongly imaged ladies

First up Karen O, front woman for the Yeah Yeah Yeah’s always amazing, donning glorious costumes on and off stage and look at that hair: Louise Brooks meets Purdie. Fab- U- Lous

Florence Welch, because her surname like me is Welsh  Welch ahem tenuous, the hair, of course the hair. The fact that she is a favourite of Uncle Karl L doesn’t hurt either. Oh yes and because I really, really want that necklace… Now play nicely Florence and share

Am also loving The Chung in this Stella McCartney trouser suit that she wore to the Elle style awards. Showcasing great use of a grey check in an urban nighttime environment 

And finally, at least for now… As I am reading a book about her; Wallace Simpson (“That Woman”) and whilst the jury is still out for me on her ‘story’… the fabulousness of the clothes, the jewels and her style in general is undeniable. Also I am loving the use of the booze globe as a prop in this photo

So where does that leave me in terms of my new look? I think with a bright red bowl haircut in a grey checked suit, dripping with jewels being propped up by a globe filled with booze. Not bad for a nights work. I’ll post pictures of the before and after.

Why is this funny creature be looking so scared. Could it be that it’s seen it’s own reflection? Poor unfortunate creature. Shudder

Why is this funny creature be looking so scared. Could it be that it’s seen it’s own reflection? Poor unfortunate creature. Shudder

Delight in the dismal realities of life…

…says David Shrigley and tonight I did as I was lucky enough to go to Brain Activity the new Shrigley exhibition at the Hayward Gallery and it was every bit as good as I had hoped. For me Shrigley’s art has the just the right amount of humour and thought to be very accessible and yet still provocative. Amongst the highlights (and there were many) were: the small stuffed rodent nestling under a wall, the I’m dead dog, protesting over his taxidermied state, a stuffed headless squirrel ( I think that he was called nut ‘less’ kin!) a peep hole which lets you into the secrets of what is actually contained in the inner workings of an everyday wall (guaranteed to surprise) and many fantastically humorous drawings. Like this one:

Another of my favourites has to be the worlds heaviest, least user friendly shopping list

I have also managed to wangle some much sought after tickets to the David Hockney exhibition for me and my mum. I just need to get Lucien Freud tickets and i’ll have scored an artistic hat trick. Back of the canvas!!

St David’s Dressing

If you turned back the clock 30 years or so today to when I was so small I was barely visible to the human eye, I’d have been wearing the following items:

  • Tall hat, made out of hard board with thin beaver fabric (!!!???? - what??) glued on to it
  • white cap, worn under the hat, made of cotton or muslin with long frilled lappets extending down the shoulders
  • bedgown
  • white blouse
  • petticoat
  • small red flannel shawl
  • cloak
  • skirt , full and made of wool with a black and white check pattern.
  • white starched apron
  • black woollen stockings and black shoes

Or at least something vaguely similar without the beaver skin(!!) and looking a bit like this:

Because for those of you not in the know today is St David’s Day - or Welsh day, as the Brook likes to call it and the list above are the items that make up the Welsh National Costume, that young girls still wear on St David’s Day in Wales. Ex pats who work in Camden Town and are no longer young, are disappointingly, not required to dress up in the aforementioned attire. 

As a child I didn’t question wearing this ensemble once a year as St Davids Day is a day of fun and celebration and also I liked to play dress up ( I still do). And I suppose that I had always assumed that the costume dated back centuries and centuries and had developed over the years to encompass the practical needs of the toiling Welsh Woman. BUT NO Imagine my surprise when I found out that actually like a 4 piece girl pop ensemble the costume had been ‘manufactured’ by one Lady Llanover the wife of an iron master in Gwent. She felt that it was important to encourage the use of the Welsh Language, culture, arts and traditions and therefore the wearing of a ‘National Costume”. How she came across such random items of clothing is quite another matter.

So do I feel cheated? Actually not in the slightest, it doesn’t mater that it was ‘manufactured’ it’s what it stands for and her reasons that are important . Also there is nothing wrong or new about carving out an identity through clothing; Soldiers, nurses, dinner ladies (tabard anyone?) are easily identified through their clothing. Goths, emo’s, teddy boys, mods all want to be seen as being part of an identifiable group and express this through their clothes.

So on the contrary I say three cheers for Lady Llanover and her excentric costume stylings. She puts me in mind of a modern day marvel Dame Viv who created one of the most exciting movements and spectacular ‘costumes’ of the 21st century….

PUNK

I bought this Mary Katrantzou for Topshop T-shirt and I really like it. I was intending to wear it tomorrow and then I read this…

                      “Florals are for middle-aged women with weight problems.”
                                            Karl Lagerfeld
Ahem…

I bought this Mary Katrantzou for Topshop T-shirt and I really like it. I was intending to wear it tomorrow and then I read this…

                      “Florals are for middle-aged women with weight problems.”

                                            Karl Lagerfeld

Ahem…

Breaks: halftime and city

It’s halftime. I can stop pretending that I am watching the football for approx 10 minutes phew, it’s been exhausting. I think it’s pretty obvious that I haven’t been watching, the endless tapping on the keyboard and the looking up of hotels in Paris were a bit of a give away.

I am planning a birthday treat for myself to go to Paris pour le weekend. I am going to channel or Chanel this lady

And the romantic in me will go looking for more of these love locks attached to the bridge who’s location I can’t remember

Off to plan my Paris wardrobe

29th of February. Will you…..turn the football off please

I am pretending to watch the football, but I am not watching the football. I have exhausted all of my football chat such as: who is playing in winter white and is that a dark navy or black? Why does the goalie always draw the short straw and get neons? That said neon and sportswear are back in so he’s on trend right now. What’s a silky skill, is it to do with a well cut negligee? Even I know when to give up. 

I am being doubly irritating (imagine that) by occasionally saying to The Brook  ”WILL YOU” and then leaving a large pregnant pause followed up by something particularly tedious, like “make me a cup of tea”, “turn off the football” etc, what fun! . NOTE: this bit of fun only works if the person that you are saying it too knows that it’s a leap year etc. If you have to explain it, it’s not working and no one is finding it funny.

This photo of more graffiti taken in Mitte in Berlin is pretty much reflective of the state of my mind at the moment. I am in ANGST. Not for the state of the nation, though it’s fair to say I am more than a little concerned that our country is being run by one man who’s face looks like one buttock and his side kick, a man who’s face is about as memorable as a big pink balloon on a stick with generic hair atop.
No, the angst is related to a much more serious matter. Tonight I attended the second week of my comedy course (that I paid for and attend of my own free will) and it’s clear, the jury is no longer out - all 12 angry men agree  and the course is just the proof they needed - I’m just not funny. ANGST! ANGST unbound!

This photo of more graffiti taken in Mitte in Berlin is pretty much reflective of the state of my mind at the moment. I am in ANGST. Not for the state of the nation, though it’s fair to say I am more than a little concerned that our country is being run by one man who’s face looks like one buttock and his side kick, a man who’s face is about as memorable as a big pink balloon on a stick with generic hair atop.

No, the angst is related to a much more serious matter. Tonight I attended the second week of my comedy course (that I paid for and attend of my own free will) and it’s clear, the jury is no longer out - all 12 angry men agree  and the course is just the proof they needed - I’m just not funny. ANGST! ANGST unbound!

When I think about great value for money I can’t help think about the Bell Jar that we bought about a month or so ago from the lovely Lavish Habit. £80 for a glass showcase that I can’t think of anything to show in…yes indeed that is money well spent.
After the hilarious first specimen captured under it’s glass dome - A copy of the Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath, yes you read right - hilarious - I have been unable to think of anything else to showcase. Perhaps I raised the bar too high? Anyway in the end I panicked and shoved my valentines card under it’s transparent, fragile, expensive cover. Look at what I have done, I put love in a Bell jar - I put LOVE in a vacuum - a space that is empty of matter - what have I done??

When I think about great value for money I can’t help think about the Bell Jar that we bought about a month or so ago from the lovely Lavish Habit. £80 for a glass showcase that I can’t think of anything to show in…yes indeed that is money well spent.

After the hilarious first specimen captured under it’s glass dome - A copy of the Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath, yes you read right - hilarious - I have been unable to think of anything else to showcase. Perhaps I raised the bar too high? Anyway in the end I panicked and shoved my valentines card under it’s transparent, fragile, expensive cover. Look at what I have done, I put love in a Bell jar - I put LOVE in a vacuum - a space that is empty of matter - what have I done??