Category: humour
Revolution..
The other night The Husband and I, breathless with anticipation, headed to the Olympic velodrome to watch some of the greats in cycling. I am a self-confessed cycle-head..every summer the Tour de France is always a must-watch..but I love the drama of the track as well. This arena, made up of 4,000 individual pieces of wood is like entering a gladiatorial games, a place where heroes still roam, oozing comradery and confidence, earnt through guts, guile and hard work – the joy about cycling is it’s not just about the individual or being the fastest..sometimes you have to be the most cunning. Laura Trott was the star of the night, winning every single one of her events, beating her great rival Marianne Vos into submission each time..Ben Swift won the men’s big event…how I love that magic touch of satisfaction..
Whilst we were cheering on the edge of our seats, the man in the row front of us wasn’t quite so happy..
I think next time perhaps he needs to read the small print…
Laters, Kate x
Cut!
This is the result of a short trouser mistake I made by booking a hair cut for myself during half term – I did realise my error, but because our internet and mobile connection was so bad where we were staying, I had no chance to re-arrange it..so I had no choice but to bite the bullet and take Bella and Charlie with me. To my credit, before we left home I asked both of them – Do you both have your tablets to play on? Yes, they assured me. Except, when we got to the hairdressers…
‘Right – you both sit there and play on your tablets… be good, I won’t be long’…
‘But mummy, you never said to actually bring them with us’…
‘^%&^$%^%£%@$^&%^(*1!’
So there was nothing for it but to hand over my phone…
The moral of this story is never, ever, mix hair cuts with young children..always pay the cancellation fee…
Laters, Kate x
The Force..
I’m not good with continually painting the town red – the tiredness comes down like a gruelling fog. The only antidote is pretense, swiftly followed by a relatively early night. And whilst no-one would normally guess (unless they wanted to count the luggage round my eyes) there is one presence I can never fool: Technology. Somehow it knows.
Take Sunday: A few late nights in a row and the matchsticks were under considerable strain. But my parents were in need of some muscle in their attempts to manhandle their still building site of a house back into some semblance of order. At the underground I checked out my oyster card – £8.75 left on – just enough to get there and back. Except the barriers didn’t like it, leaving me on one side with Bella and Charlie on the other. Went to the ticket office – no, we can’t do anything, it’s a problem with oyster – talk to them and buy a new ticket. Except the ticket machine didn’t like my debit card. Went to another one – spoke to it very nicely ( it took a while to get the heavy irony out of my voice) – and finally got my travel card. Except that was the last time the card successfully went through a barrier again..every change, entrance or exit I had to find an available person in an underground uniform to help me..
Came back to write a post. Computer froze and I lost internet connection..then the TV wouldn’t turn off…
I’d take it personally, except there’s absolutely nothing I can do. Except possibly throw the TV/Computer (cross out as applicable) out of the window…now THAT would show ’em….
Laters, Kate x
Different Eyes..
Laters, Kate x
Urban Gorillas..
Oddities..
As a child I loved to collect small ceramic animals..the sort of thing I’d scream in horror at now with their suggestion of forgotten, dusty shelves in a down-trodden garage somewhere far away and remote. Which is one reason I find Debra Broz’s Oddities so fascinating..
A rural girl, Debra found her love of all things small and sweet whilst growing up in central Missouri.
Using restoration skills she combines various parts of vintage and commercially produced animals to create her own breed of beguiling art.
They’re fun, they’re witty…they say don’t take life too seriously..and yet look below the surface and there’s something else going on..
With their pastel colours and cutesy looks they deftly question the line between high bow and low brow..when is a piece the last thing to be sold at a jumble sale? And when is it on a pedestal in a feted Exhibition?
They gently flutter their long lashes and weave their magic, concentrating the power of sentiment…and suggest we are all prey to nostalgia..even when something is rather amiss..
In our modern world, the authentic and the virtual have grown almost indistinguishable just like the smooth, smiling lines of Debra’s creations.
The truth is, it takes verve to be so ‘every day’..but she has grabbed it with both hands and transformed kitsch into poignancy, with a little walk back into reality.
Maybe I need to start collecting again…
Laters, Kate x
The Chap Olympiad..
On Saturday we headed with the lovely Fairy to the Chap Olympiad..a vintage celebration of Britain’s sporting ineptitude where sensational cravats take precedence over sweaty lycra and more points are awarded for maintaining immaculate trouser creases than ever crossing the finishing line..
(Fairy and the Husband)
Set in leafy Bedford Square in Bloomsbury, London and surrounded by gorgeous Georgian houses with the sun shining, it was a pretty idyllic setting..
And the Pimms wasn’t bad either..
The competitors took their dressage very seriously..
Rarely have I seen Boris Bikes put to such good use than in the Tea Pursuit..
Only a few cups were broken..
Umbrella jousting..
Poor show..this was taken far too seriously..
So if you every fancy a wonderfully eccentric English day out it’s a date for the diary..just don’t forget a suitably spiffing picnic to match…and book early – it sells out fast.
Laters, Kate x
The Tooth Fairy x
Up there with Father Christmas is the parental joy of being a tooth fairy: There can’t be many times in your life you’re allowed to flutter about a room to offload and collect your special cargo. Except it’s never as simple as that..particularly when the tooth is accompanied by a secret letter..
Job one: Wait till child is asleep, creep in, sneak letter out from under pillow..
2. Compose response on bits of tissue paper with fancy writing, chuckling at your own cunning and ingenuity..
3. Decide to take it a step further – find leaf from the garden to wrap letter and money in. Seventh heaven! (Husband shakes his head in despair..)
4. Head to bedroom. Move stealthily towards bed.
5. Disaster! Drop tiny letter from leaf somewhere on dark floor near bed.
6. Flee out. Find torch app on mobile phone. Enter bedroom again.
7. On hands and knees eventually find letter under bed, but knock the Furbie next to the bed in excitement of success…it springs to life, dancing and singing.
8. Run to the door with errant Furbie clutched in hands.
9. Wait 30 minutes before returning to complete task.
10. Stupidly leave effing Furbie on own bedside table. Effing Furbie proceeds to wake through the night. Effing Furbie gets thrown down the stairs…
Then a few days later I found this in the garden, under a bush:
It reads..Dear Pretty One, Please may I have a magic necklace so that I can turn myself into a mermaid with a turquoise tail…
Rod, own back…
Laters, Kate x
JPG Forever! x
Last week Julie (from Vintageattitude) and I met up with hopes aloft to see the John Paul Gaultier Exhibition at the Barbican in London. We walked in, immediately drawn to a collection of iconic Bretons – the stripe so representative of Gaultier, when Julie grabbed my arm…Did you see that? She whispered..I’m sure that mannequin just winked at me….
We were laughing and totally entranced….As we appraoched each mannequin they came to life and spoke to us….so very clever and such a witty touch – a bit like the man himself.
Who was in on the Act to just welcome us. That accent…..sigh.
The whole exhibition felt very intimate – possibly helped by the tube strike – but everything was open and accessible. Human.
Inspiration for espadrille competition?
Around every corner was another legendary memory – from Madonna’s underwear as outerwear tour clothes to championing skirts for men. And you began to realise how many fashion ideas this man has creatively planted over his long, long career- digital printing on the Can-can Dress aka Mary Katrantzou (which has to be the most perfect wedding dress ever. White and demur for the service…outrageous for the first dance!)
Upside down Eiffel Towers’ for heels on shoes aka Charlotte Olympia (yes, the tights had Eiffel towers too..)- Punk, Eurotrash and the first example of a skort I’ve ever seen. And worn by a man…it went on and on..
This was ingenious..a tulle skirt with the waistband being the very top of a pair of white jeans.
Despite additions such a camo, bullets and desert boots..all the outfits for women were always very feminine.
And even with sequins, furs and skirts..the men’s outfits always remained masculine.
Throughout the mannequins were like celestial beings beamed down from planet Gaultier, each one with their own unique, witty outlook on life. There’s no-one here, right? I exist because I speak. I don’t want to be here, but I can be who I want to be, I am because I am, I am a dream – They were more than sentences on repeat. They were a persona. Just like the Exhibition itself….
Laters, Kate x
Here it goes Again..
There are days when nothing goes to plan…that’s when you need to sit back and respect the awesomeness that is OK Go…timeless, fantastic and guaranteed to make you look at the gym in a whole new way…
Laters, Kate x
Maison Bentley Style 