Icons of Style

Surely after those pictures of Victoria Beckham yesterday in that outfit, there can’t be anyone left who considers this woman a style icon? I’m not going to sully my blog with a photo of her because frankly it makes me feel ill. What did she look like? What exactly is it she does these days, what is it she’s famous for now? As far as I can tell her only talent is for making very expensive clothes look like they were bought from Shepherds Bush Market.

So for anyone feeling bereft of a style icon today, I thought I’d put together a little list of my own. I’ve not gone for the really obvious choices but a few of my person favourites. In particular, I’m avoiding Audrey Hepburn because she was possessed of such an ethereal beauty that most of the population is on a hiding to nothing trying to emulate her.

1. Jodie Foster in Taxi Driver

I realise that she was an underage prostitute and ordinarily that isn’t a great look, but if you want to dress like a whore, she’s the whore to dress like. I love the hat, I love the hot pants, I love the sunglasses, I love the colours. Miles more class and style than VB.

2. Margo Leadbetter, The Good

Life

While the OH goes gooey for Felicity Kendal's cutesyness in The Good Life, I much prefer Margo. Yes, she's a terrible snob, but look at her clothes! She is always overdressed, but glorious. Speaking as someone who has just moved further into the suburbs, I know how it feels to be overdressed in suburbia. And she was married to Paul Eddington, a great example of an English man, reserved and slightly awkward, but lovely - I'd take him over squeaky-voiced David Beckham anyday.

3. Karen O, Yeah Yeah Yeahs

I loved the Yeah Yeah Yeahs before I'd laid eyes on Karen O, but she is just so cool. Her stage clothes are usually made by the designer, Christian Joy (the dress above being one I saw at the V&A recently) so she's a proper modern day muse. Maps is one of my all time favourite songs too.

4. Beth Orton (singer songwriter)

Possibly the opposite of Karen O, Beth Orton' style is pretty relaxed, but she always looks good. Whenever she has a new record out, I'm always keen to look at the pictures of her to see what she's wearing and what haircut she's got. In the flesh, she's got a slight gawkiness to her, that gives her a certain vulnerability that I find endearing. I'd also include Dot Allison (ex of One Dove) in the same category but can't find any pictures of her.

5. Diane Keaton

She's was offbeat in Annie Hall, great in The Godfather, but to me she is even better now. She was just stunning in As Good As It Gets. I couldn't concentrate on the film for waves of envy of her, her beauty, her beautiful neutral clothes and her beautiful neutral house.

Just Like Riding A Bike

At the end of the month, we are having a mini-break to the New Forest. It will involve a spa, wine on the veranda, craft shops and other relaxing fun.

The OH however has also suggested that it should also involve cycling.

I’m not a natural born cyclist. I haven’t been on a bicycle for 17 years (half-hearted attempts on an exercise bike aren’t the same) since I nearly went under a lorry on one in Germany on a school exchange trip because the brakes didn’t work properly. I’m also not blessed with the greatest balance in the world and I’m scared of traffic, although the latter excuse won’t wash if we stick to cycle paths.

All of the OH’s friends’ partners seem to be the sort of girls who love this kind of thing – outdoorsy, hearty country girls with rosy cheeks, sensible shoes and a Girl Guide spirit. I am not. In fact, I’m about as far removed as that as possible.

But to keep him happy I thought I should give it a go.

Then another thought occurred to me – what does one wear to ride a bicycle? My planned holiday attire (one of the most important elements of a holiday for me) was going to be whimsical dresses, sandals, perhaps a wide-brimmed hat, maybe some wide-legged trousers if the weather wasn’t so good. At no point was it ever going to involve anything that can be purchased in Millets or Blacks (I’ve surprised myself here by even knowing the names of Outdoor Activity shops). But I suspect I may at least need something that covers my limbs to provide protection against scraps and falls – already negative thoughts are overtaking me.

I know its one of those things you are never supposed to forget how to do, but really its been a long time and I have a habit of being the exception that’s proved many a rule.

A Tale of Two Documentaries

On Sunday, there were two music documentaries that we wanted to watch, on at the same time, so we recorded one to watch later.

We watched 'The Making of The Monkees' on Sunday - I love The Monkees. I know they were a manufactured band, but they had some of the best songwriters providing their songs at first and then their own stuff was pretty good (Mr Nesmith can write a good tune). Also I have a bit of a thing for Peter Tork. I was looking forward to this all weekend.

Channel 4 was taking a brief break from its Big Brother nonsense - on reflection it needn't have bothered. There was very little depth to it at all and it attempted to cover the whole of their career, although it wasn't so much about the making of them as their struggle against Don Kirschner to be able to write and play their own songs. But everything was done so superficially.

Yes, it mentioned that Mike Nesmith's mum invented Tipp-Ex, but it didn't mention Davy Jones appearing in Coronation Street or Stephen Stills putting Peter Tork forward for the job. Nor did it mention who the show originally tested poorly until they include footage of the lads screentests. There was some vaguely amusing editing using clips from the show to illustrate what was happening behind the scenes, but really nothing that interesting.

Certainly nothing I didn't already know - but perhaps I know more about The Monkees than the average person?

Last night we watched 'Exodus 77' part of the BBC's Jamaica season, which was about the year Bob Marley spent in London and his classic album Exodus, .

This was everything a good music documentary should be. Each track on the album was played, spliced with footage of interviews with Marley, people who knew him, people inspired by his music and events from the UK and around the world in 1977, along with coverage of the recent unveiling a blue plaque to commemorate his time in London. There was no authorative voiceover; the music and the images were given the space to speak for themselves.

We definitely picked the right one to record and it was a reminder that sometimes the license fee is worth paying afterall.

Note to self: I must remember no matter how good his music is, 'Redemption Song' is not a suitable choice for a pub jukebox as people do not really want to be told to emancipate themselves from mental slavery while enjoying a quiet pint.

A Giraffe

In sharp contrast to my last entry, here is a picture of a giraffe. Jerry the Giraffe from M&S (thank you Roses for the suggestion) who will soon be delivered and then given to Baby Samuel when he comes home from hospital.

Un-Desensitised

Last night's rental from Lovefilm was Shooting Dogs. I've no idea why I rented this. I struggle to remember which films I want see and am always short of inspiration when it comes to topping up my rental list. It was probably suggested to me by the site based on my tendency to rent bleak, serious films, rather than popcorn romcoms.

I wasn't really in the mood for it last night (although when am I in the mood for genocide?) but we decided to watch so we could return it quickly and move on the next one. At first, I thought 'here we go again, western white man goes to Africa and patronises the locals' and the OH and I discussed colonalism and globalisation while the film continued, not really that absorbed by it.

But then, just when I had been thinking how awful it was that we've become so desensitised to such things, there was a scene where a mother and her new born baby were hacked to death by machete. It wasn't exactly shown, so it wasn't gory, but it has to be one of the most horrific things I've ever seen, the thought that someone could do that to another human being. It didn't get any less difficult to watch from there.

So it was harrowing and moving but would I recommend it? It was real life and sometimes that isn't all boy-meets-girl japes.

Update - Tomato Plants

My babies seem to be doing well. A few weeks ago, I repotted them and they have definitely grown.

Even the runt of the litter, who I wasn't sure if it was alive, seems to be thriving and is no longer smaller than the others.

Now of course, we just have to wait to see if they will bear fruit, although after all this nurturing, I'm not sure it would feel right to eat them!

Found

Last week, I popped into the Photographers Gallery at lunchtime. I hadn't been there for a while, which is shocking considering how close it is to my office, but I have been so busy recently that lunchbreaks have become somewhat of a luxury (for me anyway - the Colleague still manages on average of 2 per day - he's taking mine as well as his own, ).

Anyway, the exhibition by Joachim Schmid was very interesting, in particular the section 'Bilder von der Strasse', which was a collection of photographs Schmid has found in the street. Apparently, he has found thousands since 1982 on his travels in various countries - lots of passport photographs, some pieces of torn up photographs, some poorly taken pictures, all discarded. He picks the photographs for the exhibition at random, by giving each one a number.

I found this fascinating - for a start, I was amazed at how many photographs he'd found - its not something I recall ever seeing thrown away myself, but perhaps that's because I've not been looking for them, although I will now. I am very interested in what people have thrown away, hence my love of the Abandoned Couches blog I always look at abandoned furniture in the street, wondering if I could take it in, find a new use for it - so far I never have done.

The OH has a thing for finding hats - he frequently brings home a hat he's found on the street or on the train. He doesn't wear them - he just washes them and stored them away like a hat-crazed Womble. So I was telling him about this exhibition and predictably he questioned whether such a thing really counted as art. His argument being that it would be like him putting on a display of his hats at London Fashion Week. I'm not sure it really is the same thing but perhaps it might be worth him trying it?

My new love

Our new coffee table arrived yesterday. Handmade in the Peak District from a sustainable source of timber, no less.

I'm very pleased with it and keep popping into the lounge to admire it.

I must buy some coasters this weekend.

Old Age

Ellie, our family dog, is now eleven. That is 77 in dog years.

Although she is still pretty much just a little ball of fluff, she is now a little old lady. Some of her fur is going grey, her eyesight is getting worse, she can no longer come down the stairs on her own because of her vision (despite, this she always follows my mum upstairs) and she is no longer able to jump onto the windowsill to watch the world go by.

She is still happy enough - she loves trips out in the car, digging and chasing her food around the lounge. But it worries me that she is getting old.

Out of Step

I sometimes feel so dislocated from popular culture, from what the rest of the population is evidently interested in. This feeling is always heightened by the Big Brother season.

I’ll admit I was hooked on Celebrity Big Brother the year George Galloway was on it, but I’ve never properly watched the regular Big Brother. I tuned in briefly during the first series when there was some discussion about someone not liking eggs so they were having a cheese sandwich instead of an omelette – at that point I decided it wasn’t for me – no point in watching something more boring than my own life. Since then it seems to have declined – at best a parade of fame-hungry slack-jawed morons, at worst, people so unstable who you wonder how they passed the psychiatric examination.

Even though I don’t watch the show, its still hard to avoid hearing about it - whether its conversations in the office, covers of magazines or in the newspapers. This morning, on Radio 5, they were discussing the new contestants, and I heard this ’53 year old bisexual from East London, who recently went to a Scissor Sisters gig dressed as a mobile phone’. Did I hear this right – dressed as a mobile phone? Why? What does that signify? Am I missing something here? Or did I mis-hear? I can’t think what else they could have said – dressed as a mobile home perhaps but that makes less sense.

I just don’t understand. Modern life, it confuses me.

Driving Miss Daisy

I've been up north for a few days - to a world without internet i.e. my mum's. It was a good trip but pretty uneventful.

One thing that happened was we went for a drive in my sister D's new car. D just passed her test two weeks go and has bought herself this car, who she has christened Daisy. Whilst it wouldn't have been my choice, it has made her very happy.

Going for a drive in Daisy doesn't exactly make you inconspicious and attracts a lot of attention around the quiet streets of the north east. However, whilst D expects you to coo over Daisy as if she was a newborn (including taking her photograph), once she is behind the wheel, she seems to forget she is driving a pink floral mobile, and was puzzled the other day as to why a group of people at a bus stop were pointing and laughing. She thought they were laughing at her glasses which she only wears for driving!

Feeble

Over the course of the past couple of days, I’ve punched holes in about 1000 documents (my education being put to good use again!).

The past two mornings, I’ve woken up with a terrible ache in my left arm.

These two things are connected. I have an industrial injury from hole-punching. I’m so weak it is embarrassing.

I really must do something about this, but I’ve never set foot in a gym and my preferred exercise, swimming, doesn’t really help with this, even when I’ve been at my peak of fitness.

Any suggestions?

Unexpected

At Christmas we found out our friends W & L were expecting a baby. It was a bit of a surprise as not only did L always say she didn't want children, but she actually always said she hated children.

We saw them both at the weekend - rumours (put about by W) that L was huge were greatly exaggerated - she had a tidy little bump.

Last night we received a text to say L had gone into labour 10 weeks early and had given birth to a little baby boy by C-section. He's ok but very small and will be kept in for a few weeks. L is fine and will be home at the weekend.

On receiving the text, I burst into tears.

My relationship with W & L is strange - sometimes I avoid seeing them for months on end as I feel they look down on me, and then I see them and will think perhaps its my problem and nothing to do with them.

I think this proved once and for all is that they are my friends and I love them both so much. And I hope the little one, Samuel, is going to be ok. I'm wondering what sort of toy he would like best and the OH is wondering if Adiddas make trainers in size -10 weeks.

Sensory Overload - A Day at the V&A

I went to the Victoria & Albert Museum today. I think it might be my favourite museum. There is just so much to see. It also has the John Madejski Garden which is definitely one of my favourite places in the world. Its just so civilised (despite the overpriced and chaotic catering outlet in its corner).

I still haven't managed to see everything in the museum - partly because I keep getting lost and partly because I keep returning to the same favourites. But today I walked around a good proportion of it - taking in the silverware section (dazzling, I was like a magpie in there) and looking over at the sculptures (stunning - my pictures don't do it any justice).

I mainly went with the intention of seeing the Surrealism exhibition - which was interesting enough but I'm not going to dwell on it as I'll probably have nightmares tonight about being unable to reach someone on my lobster phone.

Dogs Tea Party

Whilst I enjoyed my afternoon tea at the Oval last weekend, I think I would have preferred to go to this event at Claridges.

A Dogs Tea Party no less. A winning combination of two of my favourite things.

Misjudged

• It was probably misjudged to wear a jumper and jeans today as its quite sunny and warm
• It was probably misjudged to have gone back for seconds of the bread pudding yesterday
• It was definitely misjudged to go out for a Chinese meal which is my least favourite food
• It was definitely misjudged to stay out until after 11 after yesterday's event
• It was definitely misjudged to try to go home on the overground train home so late
• It was probably misjudged to buy a huge fruit salad and a packet of crisps for lunch

Event Horizon

My job involves organising events. It isn't glamorous, it certainly isn't fun and no matter what the event, they are certain things that are guaranteed to happen no matter how well it is planned:

1. Booking will start off slowly and everyone will be pessimistic My manager will talk about cancelling the event or never doing another one
2. There will be lots of last minute bookings, creating havoc
3. People feel the need to make excuses about why they are booking so late - 'I've been on holiday' (what for 2 months?), 'I lost the booking form' (what all 3 we sent out?), 'My PA ate the booking form' (its only a matter of time before this one is used)
4. Several people won't be able to remember whether or not they have booked - they never have - this is just a variation on the excuse for late booking (see above)
5. Someone will turn up who hasn't booked
6. Someone important won't turn up
7. Someone's name will be spelt wrong on their badge
8. There will be an interesting range of dietary requirements
9. Someone with a life-threatening food allergy will have forgotten to mention it
10. People are obsessed with tea - no tea, not enough tea breaks, too much tea, no herbal tea, no fruit tea, no biscuits with the tea
11. No matter how feel the event goes, somebody will complain about something which will put a downer on the whole event
12. Manager will vow never to do another event again

Tomorrow is our second largest event of the year and a large stress cloud is looming over my head.

Art Nemesis Part 3

I just spotted this in the entrance way at work. It must be new because surely I would have noticed it before.

The picture isn't very clear but that is perhaps because there isn't really much to capture. It kind of looks like an empty frame to me. Perhaps someone has stolen the picture? Unsurprisingly it is untitled - perhaps because it is just an empty frame?

It was donated by Charles Saatchi. Charles, you shouldn't have! No really, you shouldn't have.

Damned if you do, Damned if you don't

I was rather disturbed by the story in the Metro this week about Melanie Griffith's knees. Not sure much by the picture of her wrinkly knees - I hate the bit above my own knees and I've seen pictures of that bit of Kate Moss too, accompanied by an equally bitchy item about how her hard-living was taking its toil there. What disturbed me more was that such an article was being written and published at all. On one hand, it criticised Ms Griffiths for having spent a huge amount of money on cosmetic surgery in a bid of look young and in the next sentence was mocking her knees for daring to show signs of aging. You really just can't win. And whilst, I have a minimal amount of sympathy for the rich & famous, it is really is no wonder that so many women have body-image issues when articles like this are published in what is supposed to be a newspaper.

On a similar note, I have recently been suckered into buying a jar of the much-hyped Boots Perfect and Protect serum. I didn't queue at dawn for it - I bought it online with relative ease. It promises to reveal 'younger looking skin within 4 weeks'. I've been using it for two now and can feel a slight tautening of the skin. I am slightly concerned though by the thought of any return to my own younger skin - whilst my skin now isn't great, I don't want to go back to the spot-plagued skin I had at 19 - someone else's younger skin is what I'm hoping for. Really I'm not normally one for such vanity and no doubt I'll lose interest in applying it before I see any results.

The Most English of Afternoons

The OH has become a member of Surrey County Cricket Club which means he gets free entry to selected games and entry into the members pavilion. So yesterday afternoon we went down to the Oval to watch a bit of country cricket and (more importantly) have afternoon tea. Can you think of a more English way to spend an afternoon?

I was actually quite excited about our trip as I'd never seen a proper game of cricket before (OH & his friends playing does not count) but the OH warned me not to get too excited as the game was already pretty certain to end in a draw. Cricket is a bizarre passtime in that respect, in that often the result is secondary to the spirit of the game.

We arrived during the lunch break so had time for a quick look around the facilities before settling down with our drinks to watch the game (Surrey v Warwickshire, if you're interested). The match umpires walked past us on their way to the pitch and one of them (a little bald Welshman) gestured to the OH and said 'I've always wanted to do what you are doing, watch the cricket with a beautiful young lady and a beer, but I never get the chance'. I was rather embarrassed by this and could only draw the conclusion that cricket umpires like football referees must suffer from poor vision as I'm not sure I count as young anymore (although by county cricket watching standards, I suppose I was) and nobody has ever accused me of being beautiful before!

Anyway, we watched a few overs and saw Mark Ramprakash make a century, but then, as must be almost a daily hazard, rain stopped play and we were forced to return inside. Although it wasn't quite 3 o'clock yet, we decided to bring forward our afternoon tea, selecting a table by the window with a view of the field should play resume.

Seated at the table behind us were three men, one of whom had a very distinctive voice and was talking quite excitedly about problems he'd had with his Visa card in the USA. 'Is that Alan Wicker?' I asked the OH, not particularly seriously, but it turned out it was! A man who was famous for travelling around the globe and then went on to advertise a credit card was sat behind us, talking insistently about troubles with creditcards whilst on holiday! He eventually left behind the topic of credit cards and proceeded to go on a 'namedrop-athon' which took in Gaby Logan, Elton John and Michael Grade. Whilst we were happy to tuck into our tea, sandwiches, scones and cakes, we struggled to have our own conversation as Alan's monologue seemed much more interesting.


When we could eat and drink no more (the OH having exceeded his usual weekly tea dose in one sitting), we had one last look around the ground, but the rain was still coming down, so we decided to leave. As it happens, play did resume later but as expected it was still a draw so we didn't really miss much.