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Archive for the ‘Shopping’ Category

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Thanks to this Times blogger’s travel guide to….Lisbon (just a random find) I have not only found another website to spend some meaningful time on but have also discovered this little shop (it’s in Portuguese and I’m not sure just how easy it is to shop there but I love the look of their website and the products seem interesting, either becuase they seem to be authentic to the country or because of their quirky retro appearance).

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Is Katy Price Too Old?

Is Katy Price Too Old?

The above photograph was one of a number to feature in a piece in the Daily Mail, in which the reporter posed this question: Aren’t you too old to STILL be stripping off in public, Katie Price?

Katy Price is 30. She was modelling her new lingerie range.

So, is this (unnamed) reporter suggesting that women over the age of 29 shouldn’t model underwear? Whatever you think of Katy  —  tacky/should go blond again/money obsessed/cruel to poor Peter/better without the fake boobs, etc — there’s still something a bit weird about the idea of the under thirty cut-off point.

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Well, it’s bound to be. Or else, it’s not dangerous per se (annoying phrase and possibly miss-spelled but I’m too tired to think of another one) but ‘studies’ somewhere, at some point, will show that too much of it (breathing), or doing it in a manner other than a technique prescribed by experts and approved of by the government, is not only life-threatening but dangerous to others — especially unborn babies.  This threat will have a name which begins with the word ‘passive’. If you continue to get your breathing wrong and fail to take advice  you will then be a social pariah and a child-killer, just because you didn’t listen to the experts  — whose livelihoods largely depend on them drawing our attention to how everything will kill us and how we are (passively) killing everyone else.

They’re on about ‘environmentally-friendly’ lightbulbs now and how they may be a threat to health. Of course. I’m sorry to gloat but I’m glad it’s something that was previously on the ‘approved’ list (in fact, I’m almost certain that ‘they’ — raving environmentalists — were getting ready to force us to use these type of lightbulbs to the exclusion of all others).  Zealots can never admit they were wrong, though, so they’ll probably issue some statements saying that any damning study was flawed (but all studies which support their views are, of course, totally spot-on and cannot be questioned).

I tried to get a carrier bag to carry home my shopping this week and had to face an interrogation by a supermarket cashier, who wasn’t even impressed by my defense that I had brought my own bag but couldn’t fit everything in, as I’d bought some products which were on a special two-for-one offer (in an attempt to keep myself and loved-ones out of the poorhouse). I pleaded my case as best I could but she didn’t care that I would have to struggle home on public transport with bananas sticking out my coat pocket or that my half-price bloomer would be flattened to the size of a pancake by the time I got through my front door. She was a member of the bag-police and had right on her side. My only consolation was that she had horribly misshapen rabbit teeth. As she lectured me and gave me the evil eye, all I could think was: rabbit, rabbit, rabbit; orthodontist, orthodontist, orthodontist… The tooth thing had probably warped her mind and ruined her life — I might have been doing her a favour if I had punched her teeth out right there and then (only joking, Word Police).

You can read more about all the lightbulb business over at The World’s Gone Mad. I love that blog. Sometimes I get so mad about things that I can hardly speak about them, let alone write about them. And sometimes I get so annoyed that I’m beside myself and we look at each other and don’t know what to think. It’s then that I head over to the ‘Gone Mad’ blog to find out what Billy Seggars has to say about things. Billy usually has a nicely controlled rant but manages to stay witty and coherent throughout.

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Just a little reminder that the £100 for One Hundred Words competition is still running over at Larkin & Catcher. The competition is poetry-related but even if you’re not a budding poet it’s worth having a go, as the prize is £100 worth of items from the Larkin & Catcher store. I know I’m biased but there really are some lovely things there and you could either keep them for yourself or store them up as gifts for birthdays or even Christmas (I’d just keep them).

The image above is nothing to do with the competition or Larkin & Catcher but it’s one I found on a CD of clipart I just bought. Is it just me or does the one on the right have some sort of creepy extra eye? The ‘rabbit’ on the left just looks evil. No wonder kids have nightmares — and come to think of it — the L&C logo does have those freaky little rabbit-type creatures on it…

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You know how I said that I would never leave you — even if you kicked and screamed and begged until your throat was red and raw and you’d near enough run out of every very last bit of energy? Well it’s true as that welt on your face and those crazy red eyes you’ve got from beating yourself up over this.  But a girl’s got to do what a girls gotta do and I’m over at the opposition for a while. NOW QUIT THAT! A promise is a promise and I’ll be back here in no time at all — say a month or two.

In the meantime you can catch me over at Larkin & Catcher’s Very Best Things. Don’t go there unless you don’t mind reading about fashion and you don’t have a problem about me promoting my day job. Welcome to the jungle…

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I’ve just found this Victorian Travel Coat at J. Peterman  — which fits in quite well with my current obsession with all things Steampunk. It’s on sale just now for $129.00 — if I wasn’t such as short-arse I think I’d go for it.

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Feels weird to be writing that I love Sundays, because I used to detest them. Most boring day of the week and the dreaded Monday morning hanging over everything. Monday — when you had to go back to earning a living — and I think I could win an award for the number of totally-crap-jobs held by one human being. Everything changed when I started working on Larkin & Catcher.

I’ve never felt more enthusiastic about anything and enthusiasm is practically my middle name. I think many people eventually have their enthusiasm drained out of them in most jobs — the horrible reality that many businesses are rigidly tied to some predefined and inflexible model of operation and the dawning realisation that a majority of businesses do not operate in a form that truly encourages creative thought. Innovation and originality are stifled —  because everyone is so busy sticking to the corporate game and playing safe in order to avoid a knife in the back. I just like the maverick side of L & C and the way we take chances and don’t always opt for the safest option. So work life is happy and I look forward to being here — even if it is usually only in the virtual sense.

But back to Sundays. No lazy lie-in for me last Sunday — I was dragged out on a shopping expedition, despite my insistence that I had no intention of buying one single thing. But it was a good day — partly because we ignored all the ‘Sales’ and just concentrated our attentions on items which we felt had some value unrelated to their price — and also because it was good to be out in the land of the living again. Just relaxing in a coffee shop, idly flicking through newspapers, people-watching, sharing a double-choc muffin. He (a relative) bought shoes and I bought a book and some music.

Everything has been so intense recently, my non-working life has been so caught-up in thoughts of death that I’ve been in an almost permanent state of breath-holding — just waiting for the next big shock. I think Sunday was the most relaxed I’ve been since everything turned up-side down. When we got home we decided we were too whacked-out to cook and ordered a take-away — but then someone ate a bit too fast, swallowed too much and began to choke.  Some water and a lot of back-slapping fixed it and he was laughingly unperturbed. It was only two minutes at most — but in my head I had him dead at nineteen. I laughed, like everyone else — I don’t think they noticed that I was shaking and they would not know that my heart was pounding for ages afterwards.

I have to sort that out — the feeling that everyone I love can be wiped-out in seconds, with no warning. People all over the planet deal with it — the inescapable thing that we run around trying to avoid.

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