Friday, 26 March 2010

The Wishlist....

These are the things I would like my Fairy Godmother, Tooth Fairy, Genie type entity (otherwise known as MrRamblings or 'babe' according to mini-me) to "suprise" me with in order for this month to end well... In no particular order.

1. A fully grey short-hired domestic cat. Stripes or spots of any size or colour will not be tolerated. I had a fully grey cat called Jasper, that was my baby before the baby came along. Sadly he was put to sleep last year... And I want a new one. I would buy him a teal collar and he would be the most pampered house cat ever. 2. Swarovski black crystal ring. Needs no explanation. It's a nice ring and I want it. The end. 3. Irregular Choice 'Driving Bananas' shoes. I drive. Don't really like banana's, but I do like banana flavoured things. And I realised this weekend when my feet and legs quit working for me in an act of rebellion against the constant high shoe wearing that the only flat shoes I own are Converse or Ugg boots. As good a reason as any other that I could think of, other then... Because I want them.

4. Nissan Figaro. I lurve, lurve, lurve and want, want, want this car. I can see myself driving through the countryside, top down with a scarf tied round my head, floating in the wind Isadora Duncan style, obviously without the death by strangulation part. I would cover the seats with Liberty print fabric. And spray the body metallic teal. I promise I would service it every 6 months and never drive above 30mph, unless on the motorway or really empty roads with no cameras at night, I would never have road rage, so would never have to bang uncontrollably on the horn and therefore could instill a 'no swearing in the car rule' to preserve the quirky, retro car style ambience. Unless of course there was the absolute need to occasionally shout 'duck'.

5. Red & Pink bike with basket. I am usually the anti-pink and pink and red would usually set 'fashion faux pas' alarm bells ringing... Until this bike. Some how it works. I can picture myself in denim capri pants with my driving bananas shoes on (see above) zipping through Hyde or Richmond park with mini-me in tow, tooting our horns with fresh cut flowers in our baskets (what the hell era am I living in? Pollyanna eat your heart out).
6. Irregular Choice 'So Hot Right Now' shoes. I know I mentioned previously that I was slightly lacking in the sensible, flat, style footwear region. But. I. Don't. Actually. Think. I. Can. Go. On. Without. These. Shoes. In. My. Life. That is all.

Ok, so maybe expecting them all this month is a bit much, but i'm sure 4 out of 6 isn't too much to ask for... Is it?? And anyway the saying goes 'If you don't ask, you don't get' :-)

Thursday, 25 March 2010

The randomness behind "Purple Ramblings"...

I have on occasion been asked what is the inspiration behind the name ‘Purple Ramblings’. Well for those who asked, here it is....

Warning - Jenny Joseph

When I am an old woman I shall wear purple
With a red hat that doesn't go and doesn't suit me.
And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves
And satin sandals and say we've no money for butter.
I shall sit down on the pavement when I'm tired
And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells
And run my stick along the public railings
And make up for the sobriety of my youth.
I shall go out in my slippers in the rain
And pick flowers in other people's gardens
And learn to spit
You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat
And eat three pounds of sausages at a go
Or only eat bread and pickle for a week
And hoard pens and pencils and beermats and things in boxes.
But now we must have clothes that keep us dry
And pay our rent and not swear in the street
And set a good example for the children.
We must have friends to dinner and read the papers
But maybe I ought to practise a little now?
So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised
When suddenly I am old and start to wear purple.

This poem is my inspiration... The ‘Purple Ramblings’ are the beginnings of my impending eccentricity...

I have listed a few examples as proof that I am well on my way:

1. My lack of respect for matching colours. It is often noted that my colours don't match. I will happily wear a pantone spectrum of clothes and some how manage to pull it all together. Although I am often told ‘somehow YOU made it work’ which leads me to believe that maybe it isn't working after all, but people are so used to it from me that it is accepted. Do I care?? Err... Nah.

2. I stopped 'doing my hair' years ago. So much so that on the occasions that I notice it looking exceptionally shabby and I am with friends I have become offended by their disregard and blatantly negligent behaviour in not pointing it out. Apparently it has become so common place for my hair not to be 'did' that people don't even realise when it is unacceptable.

3. Lack of nutrition in my diet. I am known for my love of one main food group. Sugar. I have spent days eating purely sweet things. Breakfast, lunch and dinner have been of the sugary, delicious variety and I make no apologies. In the name of 'health' I have made an effort to reign this in. I once went away and had more Haribos then actual clothes in my suitcase. I have also been known to have more Haagen Dazs then food in my freezer.

4. My penchant for randomly singing out loud and talking to myself. It is borderline tourettes. People in the office I work in are constantly amused. People on public transport, not so much. Friends and family tend to ignore it. I find myself apologising A LOT!

5. Owning probably more shoes then clothes. I am more then happy to wear the same clothes everyday. Jeans and a white top. Clean and simple. Laundered on a regular basis of course. But the shoes must tell a story. They must be fabulous, flamboyant, awe inspiring, hard to walk in, jealousy inducing pieces of amazing art work. Obviously not every single pair, but I do like a conversation starter.

6. 90% of my clothes have never been ironed. I don't iron. Unless absolutely, unavoidably necessary. For example if something has been crushed into a ball, in a bag, under a sofa for a number of months... Although if hung for long enough i'm sure the creases would fall out, so if I had the time this way would still be preferable to ironing....

So this is the story behind the 'Purple Ramblings'... 'Purple' as an ode to my older even more eccentric self. And 'Ramblings' because that is what I do. Ramble...

Wednesday, 24 March 2010

The 'one more, no more' device...

The past few weeks have pretty much been a non-stop party. So many of my friends are born in Feb and March it feels like it's been one long, never ending weekend of drinking and socialising. It isn't over yet, I still have 2 more weekends to go before my poor feet and legs and my bank balance can have a weekend off. I have witnessed a mish mash of the effects of alcohol on people and it isn't all good. From the happy drunk, to the sulky drunk, to the emotional drunk, to the aggressive drunk, to the paraletic. This last one is the topic of my post.

The last weekend's shenanigans have been the best by far without shadow of a doubt. However what lingers in my mind are the 2 members of our party who drank themselves into such a state that they became the responsibilty of the rest of the group. Don't get me wrong. I have nothing against drinking and I have drowned my sorrows, danced the night away and even drank some of them under the table. What I do have a problem with, is people that don't know their limits.

As a teen and into your early 20's experimenting is what you do, pushing yourself to see how far you can go and testing your limits. Inevitably you will pass out, throw up and fall over along the way, but I guess for some that's part of growing up.

However when you reach the ripe old age of "knowing better" as we (all those that have celebrated birthdays the past couple of weeks) are, there is no excuse - in my humble opinion. Apparently some still think it's ok to drink until you pass out, or vanish for hours on end in a club without telling any of the people that you came with where you are. But to me that's unacceptable. It is now down to somebody else to make sure you don't choke on your vomit, or vanish into an unlicensed cab never to be seen again and to make sure you don't lose your keys and get home safely. Not really what they came out for. Everyone came out to have a good time, but now someone has to look after those that over-indulged...

There must be a point where your body says 'ok, that's enough, one more drink and that's it'. I know my body has that device I call it 'one more, no more' it's pretty accurate and I tend to listen to it. I know that 4 glasses of champagne is my limit, but I also know that i'll feel like i've been hit by a bus in the morning. So I tend not to drink Champagne. I know that if I mix wine and spirits i'll spend most of the night throwing up and won't remember how I got home and it'll take me days to recover. I NEVER mix wine and spirits. I know I can drink spirits with a mixer or cocktails until the cows come home and until my 'one more, no more' device kicks in i'll be ok. I also know that in the morning i'll feel a little bit worse for wear but nothing that would render me inactive. So i stick to what my body can handle, but I know this because in my teens and early 20's I threw up a few times and experienced short term memory loss until I engaged my 'one more, no more' device.

Maybe not everyone used their teens as their experimental time. Maybe not everyone has the 'one more, no more' device. Or maybe like those who become morbidly obese they choose to ignore it, like that feeling of being full.

But at the age where one should no better there must be a stage where you know it's time to stop, regardless of anything else...

Or maybe that's just me.

Do you have a 'one more, no more, device?

Wednesday, 17 March 2010

The shoe cast system...

Mini-me has grown out of all the fabulous size 9 shoes I bought her over the past few months... These have consisted of but were not limited to:
  1. Navy Blue Tribal ugg style boots (which were greatly admired and sort after by mothers and teachers alike at nursery).
  2. Beige side tie ugg style boots, I initially bought a size 9 which seemed to be too small until I bought the size 10 which fell off one evening on the way home from school, it turned out she just didn't like them and found excuses ie: they're too tight, my feet hurt etc... so she didn't have to wear them. I now have 2 pairs, neither of which can be returned as they were both worn...
  3. Beige square toed boots with little embroidered pink flowers on the side, which she named 'the clunkies' as they had a tiny wedge/heel bit which was neither a wedge nor a heel really as she is only 3 and I would never do that, but they made a clunky noise, and I wished they had them in my size so we could wear our clunkies together.
  4. Black and Yellow Pastry trainers, highly sort after in Hip Hop circles as they are made by the daughters of none other then the Rev Run himself from Run DMC (HipHop royalty don't you know).
  5. A pair of shoes that vanished whilst moving, but she neither liked nor wore them so i'm guessing she hid them and various pairs of slippers and flip flops.

I liked every single one of these shoes and if they made them in my size I would happily have dressed mini-me like a mini-me and we would have ‘clunkied’ our days away... But alas it is time for new size 10 shoes and here is where I reach my dilemma... Mini-me has reached
a milestone of sorts, she has started to develop her own sense of, not so much 'style' but a desire to wear certain things and not others and to have the same things as her friends... Woe is me!! All her friends have shoes bought from 'start-rite the wrong way' and 'one giant leap into clarks' type shops and I cannot bear them. Worse still they have LELLI KELLY shoes. When she came home and said 'mummy I want Lelli Kelly shoes like Evelina' it was all I could do not to burst into tears.

Many a blissful day has been passed trawling websites for amazingly cute original shoes, (I very rarely see other children in the same shoes as her and always get asked where they are from) without over-dosing on pink, ribbony, flowery style acoutrements that seem to infiltrate the factories of every girls shoe maker. Her little tootsies have been kitted out in some of the most fabulous shoes.... From silver kickers, to black mary janes with white butterflys, red converse with diamante's at the front, classic adidas nizza’s, double tongued converse, red mary jane's with white flowers, beautifully crafted blue and green buckle my shoe sandals, patterned espadrilles with ribbon ties.... The list goes on and on and on a bit more... But these were all my choice, through my desire for my child to experience only the best that footwear could offer. And now she wants to stamp on everything I have been trying to teach her, the education her feet have known up until now will not prepare them for the distress they will experience at the hands of the pink, sugary, flowery, fairy style extravaganza that errupts volcano style onto Lelli Kelly shoes. The princess, diamante style happy ever after, rainbow world of teddy bears and pom poms has infiltrated the elf and the shoemakers and made it’s way onto the high street… But this is what she has asked for, in order to fit in with the other children in her class (I am giving this as the reason rather then the fact that she may actually like them herself, because she couldn’t possibly? Could she? Has she learnt nothing in 3 years of fabulous footwear?)

Do I give in to MY desire for the adults to swoon at MY choice of classic, fabulous, painstakingly chosen shoes at the risk of my child being made a social outcast in Nursery School 2? Or do I give in to HER desire to be accepted by HER peers and have the footwear coveted by 3 year olds the world over? I cannot make this decision alone...

I could be setting my daughter up to be shunned by her peers for having footwear desired only by adults with no fairy dust or fantasy flower throw up anywhere in sight, but on the other hand I could be setting her up to know, love and understand all there is to love about a fabulous pair of shoes, which will bode her well in the future... HELP!!