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Archive for May, 2007

I’d forgotten about my Best Blogs category and to be quite honest I think I’m reluctant to single out blogs here, as I have so very many favourites. So if you’re mentioned here consider yourself honoured and very special. I have to write this post fairly quickly, as I want to get everything done before the start of Big Brother 8.
Oh, don’t start – you know you’ll be watching it sooner of later and you might as well get in at the beginning.

The housemates are bound to be nervous this year, though. It’s got to be Walking On Eggshells time, after what happened with the last Celebrity Big Brother — that really was too uncomfortable to watch. But I hope they’re not going to be excessively nice to each other this time — not that I’m hoping for any real vindictiveness and bile but it’s just not the same without a good dose of bitching, bickering and backstabbing. Unfortunately, it’s on at the same time as The Apprentice, so I’m going to set-up two televisions side by side, so I can watch both. What a good idea, you are thinking. That is what you are thinking?

Anyway, back to Best Blogs. I’m posting two today (to catch-up on my backlog) and the first is Dad Gone Mad. I’ve only just found that one and nearly missed it, as the title almost put me off – I tend to avoid blogs with the words Mum or Dad in the title, for some reason. The ‘Mad Dad’ is Danny Evans and — although he writes with a bit too much enthusiasm on his nose-picking habit for my liking – he’s definitely going to be a permanent feature on my favourites list. Danny is laugh-out-loud funny, for a start, and I love bloggers who make me laugh. His writing is intelligent and honest and he just comes across as a likeable, genuine person (even if he does write about sport now and again – but I’m letting him off on that, as he’s an ex-sports writer). And he complains a lot too, which I love. I’ll have to complain more here; I’m too easy-going. Just wait until I start – there’ll be no stopping me.

The other Best Blog is Miss Doxie. I’ve been reading Miss Doxie’s blog for ages but it wasn’t until I saw her mentioned on Danny’s site that I remembered to put her in my Best Blogs category. Actually, I’m quite proud of the fact that I’m including Miss Doxie on my list, because it shows that I’m not eaten up and bitter with envy about someone who clearly has bucketloads of talent and who is sickeningly photogenic. But one of the very best things about Miss Doxie is that she doesn’t take herself too seriously and seems to have had a vanity by-pass, so it’s easy to forgive the fact that the Gods have bestowed their bounty on her with such generosity (whilst giving certain other people a body-swerve).

Miss Doxie is an attorney by day and a super-witty blogger in her spare time. She’s also an artist and has recently opened a shop (which I write about here) to sell her artwork. Go buy some of her stuff and have a look at mine while you’re at it – I’ll really have to start plugging Larkin & Catcher a lot more. I’ve been way too reluctant when it comes to self-promotion but ecommerce is a jungle and I need to be a bit more pushy if I want to put a dent in the machine.

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Fluevog

I’m interupting my evening of fun and frivolity (working) to draw your attention to these shoes from John Fluevog. There. My work here is done and I will return to the slog.  Think of me when you are making merry with the JD’s etc.

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heeldm_468×636.jpg  You may have heard about the Camileon Heel, the shoes invented by David Handel and his sister Lauren. The adjustable heel allows the shoes to go from 3 ¼  inches to one-inch flats.  Seemingly, style won’t be sacrificed for function, so we’re not talking about orthodontic-looking efforts here.

I assume the inventor will have done some pretty thorough research on the mechanics of the shoe in terms of its stability but it’s a certainty that someone will threaten to sue if they fall over whilst wearing them (even if they’re totally inebriated at the time) and it’s guaranteed there will eventually be some health issues raised (!) in relation to adjustable footwear – so a research team will take a year or so to produce a report outlining the dangers of the shoes and we’ll have ‘killer shoes’ headlines and the government will issue a health warning. I’m intentionally exaggerating  but when I think about it ‘shoe health warnings’ are not outwith the bounds of possibility in the future because government interference in almost every aspect of our lives is now routine and I don’t see why our feet should be an exception.

Anyway, I’d buy a pair of those shoes. Unless they did look horrendous, of course – or if I’d seen some serious evidence of collapsing heels. And if the shoes do catch on then the £150 price tag will drop and we’ll be bagging these for around 50 quid. So I see some potential for the ‘Camileon’ — unless they get labelled with the ‘naff’ tag, in which case they will end up in fashion hell (I’d still stock-up though, being independent of mind and diminutive of stature).

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brit.jpg I couldn’t sleep, so decided to do a bit of blog-reading. First of all I checked-out Handbag.com for some much needed beauty advice, then I headed over to Knickers blog and read about how a good number of us ladies (and some men, no doubt) are wearing the wrong-sized undies. Seemingly, Britney Spears has been stuffing her assets into a too-small bra and is in need of a larger cup size.

Britney just never gets it right in the underwear department, does she? I feel kind of sorry for that girl — I know some people believe she deserves everything that’s thrown at her but I think the hammering she’s taken from the press in the past has went way too far.  Anyway, the people at Knickers were relatively kind and there’s some good advice there on the whole bra-measuring business.

Then, I paid a little visit to Tokyo Girl and read her excellent dog constipation post.

So, once again, I will sleep a little sounder — for I know my night has not been wasted.

You’ll be relieved to know that I couldn’t find a picture of a dog’s bottom to post here — so you will  just have to make do with one of Britney (taken quite some time ago, if I’m not mistaken).

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lily.jpg cole1.jpg   Fight! Fight! Fight!  The ‘squabble ‘ between Lily Allen and Cheryl Cole does seems to have a touch of the playground about it and the media appear to be loving it — while still voicing their disapproval of the ‘juvenile antics’ of these two celebrities. I’ve heard it suggested that this feud has been concocted by Lily and Cheryl (or their management teams) as a ploy to attract yet more publicity but I think Lilly was genuinely hurt by Cole’s (alleged) remarks about her appearance. Admittedly, the only evidence I have for that is Lily’s recent Myspace post but I think she was being honest when she said that Cole’s comments had knocked her confidence and that she was feeling bad about her weight.

And what weight, I’d like to ask? I know it’s all relative but Lily looks to be on the slim-ish side to me, not that it should even matter. This little celebrity slanging-match brings home to me how difficult it must be to be in the public spotlight and to have your physical appearance constantly under scrutiny and subject to criticism from all and sundry.

You can see how it could get to the stage where you’d be reluctant to put your head out of your own front door, especially if your fame is based on your looks and those looks were fading or you’d put on an obvious amount of weight. Despite the financial benefits of celebrity status, it must seem to some that life in the public eye is just too damaging and the loss of personal privacy is too high a price to pay.

It’s usually women who bear the brunt of society’s obsession with appearance, of course, but I’ve noticed a recent trend in the media to focus on the declining looks of some male celebrities and there seems to be bit of a field-day on football ‘personalities’ just now.  David Beckham, for instance, has had a few swipes in his direction recently (bad hair, crows feet, use of botox, looks like a transvestite) and even the Chelsea manager, Jose Mourinho, has attracted some biting remarks about how he’s let himself go and is no longer the handsome man he was a couple of years ago (still looks good to me, I have to say).

About time, some may think – now they’ll get an idea of what women have been putting up with for years. But I’ve a feeling most men won’t give a damn what some hack has to say about their looks and even those who do will be much less affected than a woman would be. Women are never allowed to look rough but for men it can be a positive bonus. Just think of the venom that has been targeted at Victoria Beckham over the years – she might be laughing all the way to the bank and she does go out of her way to court publicity but all those barbs must have gone some way to dent her confidence and make her question her own sense of self worth.
 

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The Dress

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How’s this for a showstopper of a dress? I think I’m in love.

See this and other divine concoctions at the the dress

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Actually, I’ve just shown the picture to someone here and she said “Nope. Don’t like it.” The very cheek of it, being so dismissive of  MY dress (in my dreams) and calling my very good taste into question . Perhaps she’s feeling a little off-colour — she certainly looks a tad tangerine. And they say those Superdrug tan wipes are foolproof.

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I’ve just discovered Trend Hunter – the site which features ‘trends’ spotted by thousands of people across the world. I like the look of it and it will be yet another aid to procrastination – I’m easily bored but I’m sure I could waste a good few hours there. I’d do anything rather than what I’m supposed to be doing. For instance – even as I type this – I’m wondering if Wife Swap is on tonight  and I’m also wondering if I should go and have a look for the copy of Baudelaire’s The Flowers of Evil which I managed to lose somewhere in this tip house within seconds of bringing it through the door. I should mention that I lost the book nearly two years ago and I’m only thinking about it now so I can avoid writing the promotional articles I’m supposed to have ready for tomorrow morning.

If I get totally desperate for another work-distraction, I’ll have a go at some cleaning but it probably won’t come to that as I’ve just found out that Antiques Roadshow is on and I love to watch well-off people being told that their inherited silver will be making them yet more money. I like the way they try not to react when the expert tells them that some ugly old painting they’ve had in their loft for half a lifetime is worth around ten grand. Actually, I like it better when some toff is told the ‘find’ they forked out a fortune on at auction is only worth half of what they paid for it — they always attempt to appear unconcerned but you can see their bitter disappointment under the stiff upper lips (they’re probably thinking they’ll have to sack a couple of their cleaners to make up the cost).

I’ll never forget the time I saw a highlights edition of the show and one of the ‘antiques’ up for assessment turned out to be a doorknob – and not even an ancient one, but a common or garden old rubbishy one. I felt bad about that, as the knob-owner looked pretty poverty-stricken (though you never can tell) and the expert was fairly contemptuous about it. I think I would have attempted to have at least been a little kinder if I had been the expert: something like “easy enough mistake to make… it almost had me fooled.” But not everyone is as sweet-natured as me.

Did you watch the Eastern Eurovision Song Contest? Last night was the first time I’d seen it in years. It’s definitely a bit of camp fun but I think that once every five years would be enough – and if dear old Terry Wogan quits or becomes permanently ‘indisposed’ then I’m never going to watch it again. And the United Kingdom can never, ever win the thing – not only because of all that highly annoying tactical voting but because none of our real talent would be willing to commit the career suicide that would follow any involvement in the ‘contest’. I hate to think how much the whole Eurovision circus costs but it might be worth it if it brings a bit of cheer into the lives of us who have absolutely no social life.
 

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