If there's one thing guaranteed to set my teeth on edge, it's the shrieking, toneless caterwauling of the vast majority of women singers.
Very few women can sing well, in my opinion. Most women deliver a pitch that is nasal in the extreme, or, if they think they can sing (Celine Dion, Whitney Houston, even Lesley Garrett), they indulge in cheap vocal pyrotechnics and the kind of screeching that would do credit to a tom cat.
I have to change stations if "I will always love you" comes on. Or "Eternal Flame." Or, the latest horror, Fergie's "Big Girls Don't Cry." She's gone for that dreadful sob-trapped-in-the-throat sound originated by Michael Jackson which is copied relentlessly by singers including Beyonce and Britney and everyone on those tawdry TV talent shows. Do they think it covers the term "emotions?" Fergie has also perpetrated another crime which is trying to sound like a little girl.
Beverley Craven doesn't seem to have dealt with the most basic of vocal challenges, getting rid of the sound of gulping in breaths. And Madonna, well, nasal in the extreme.
Maybe I have overly sensitive ears. But the only women singers whose voices are harmonious and pleasant are Barbara Streisand, Julie Andrews, KD Lang and Karen Carpenter. As their best bodies of work were many years ago, you can see I don't rate any of today's women singers. What do you all think?
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
Friday, July 27, 2007
UK Inc is so depressing
At the time of the World Cup there was initially quite a lot of patriotic fervour about the England team and the nation as a whole. Flags suddenly appeared all over the place and the country was on a brief high, unified and optimistic.
It all ended in tears and the country went back to its normal brooding state of resentment and confusion. Unlike the US, France, Italy and Germany, the UK has no true sense of identity. Scotland, Wales and Ireland yes; England no. Until recently, it was bad to even display the flag of St George because it was owned by the fascist fringe.
I find myself pondering over England's sociological status and identity confusion. I made the decision this week to stop buying papers, except on Sunday. The reason is that every day, the papers are just full of doom and gloom about the UK. I'm not talking about terrorism, murders or any other crimes, but simply the cascade of stats everyday that paint the UK as one of the worst places in Europe.
Let's take yesterday as an example. Britain has the worst behaved teenagers in Europe. Earlier in the week, it was revealed that 15 year old girls drink more than boys their age, and get drunk on average once a week. Wonderful. A former boxer dies after challenging three yobs who were smoking. In Gloucester, flooded houses were looted and vandals and children have vandalised water bowsers. Other people meanwhile were marching in and taking far too much water with the "I'm all right Jack" selfish attitude that prevails these days.
Then there are depressingly regular reports about obese teenagers; teenagers armed with knives; bullying; Britain having the highest number of teenage mothers in Europe; Britain having the highest number of university dropouts in Europe.
That's just the youngsters. Then there is what I consider the hidden scandal of how the elderly are treated in care homes and by the NHS; the NHS in general (crippled) and poor public transport.
It all adds up to a picture of a thoroughly unpleasant, divided land. It's unlike other countries where the majority of people are principled, honest and caring. I despair of the mentality of people. What makes someone think it's OK to damage a waster bowser? Or loot someone's flooded house? Or for a gang of teenagers to choose a victim and knife him to death? It's as if millions of people have grown up among wild animals with only a will to survive but no psychological training on respect or self-esteem.
I wonder how we got to this state. A lot of commentators and the Daily Mail blame either "the government" (and I do believe the avaricious Thatcher years have a lot to do with it because the divide between rich and poor became too great) or lax parenting. I think it's a combination of the two plus a general resentment that although we're supposed to be one of the richest nations in Europe, our priorities are wrong and somehow a lot of our public services - the NHS, education to name two -are worse than those found in third world countries. We'll happily spend millions parading up and down with America in countries where we seem to think we have a God given right to "restore justice" based on flimsy evidence. We give great tax breaks to the super rich allowing them to have some sort of "domiciled" status that means they don't pay any income tax. We fail to uphold the family as the structure on which a successful country is based, but make it so attractive to be a single mother there is no incentive to work.
I know there are positives about the UK. Er.....well, the sense of humour and the beauty of the place are the two things that immediately spring to mind. But it's all far outweighed by what is wrong, and I try not to dwell on it because it's just too depressing.
It all ended in tears and the country went back to its normal brooding state of resentment and confusion. Unlike the US, France, Italy and Germany, the UK has no true sense of identity. Scotland, Wales and Ireland yes; England no. Until recently, it was bad to even display the flag of St George because it was owned by the fascist fringe.
I find myself pondering over England's sociological status and identity confusion. I made the decision this week to stop buying papers, except on Sunday. The reason is that every day, the papers are just full of doom and gloom about the UK. I'm not talking about terrorism, murders or any other crimes, but simply the cascade of stats everyday that paint the UK as one of the worst places in Europe.
Let's take yesterday as an example. Britain has the worst behaved teenagers in Europe. Earlier in the week, it was revealed that 15 year old girls drink more than boys their age, and get drunk on average once a week. Wonderful. A former boxer dies after challenging three yobs who were smoking. In Gloucester, flooded houses were looted and vandals and children have vandalised water bowsers. Other people meanwhile were marching in and taking far too much water with the "I'm all right Jack" selfish attitude that prevails these days.
Then there are depressingly regular reports about obese teenagers; teenagers armed with knives; bullying; Britain having the highest number of teenage mothers in Europe; Britain having the highest number of university dropouts in Europe.
That's just the youngsters. Then there is what I consider the hidden scandal of how the elderly are treated in care homes and by the NHS; the NHS in general (crippled) and poor public transport.
It all adds up to a picture of a thoroughly unpleasant, divided land. It's unlike other countries where the majority of people are principled, honest and caring. I despair of the mentality of people. What makes someone think it's OK to damage a waster bowser? Or loot someone's flooded house? Or for a gang of teenagers to choose a victim and knife him to death? It's as if millions of people have grown up among wild animals with only a will to survive but no psychological training on respect or self-esteem.
I wonder how we got to this state. A lot of commentators and the Daily Mail blame either "the government" (and I do believe the avaricious Thatcher years have a lot to do with it because the divide between rich and poor became too great) or lax parenting. I think it's a combination of the two plus a general resentment that although we're supposed to be one of the richest nations in Europe, our priorities are wrong and somehow a lot of our public services - the NHS, education to name two -are worse than those found in third world countries. We'll happily spend millions parading up and down with America in countries where we seem to think we have a God given right to "restore justice" based on flimsy evidence. We give great tax breaks to the super rich allowing them to have some sort of "domiciled" status that means they don't pay any income tax. We fail to uphold the family as the structure on which a successful country is based, but make it so attractive to be a single mother there is no incentive to work.
I know there are positives about the UK. Er.....well, the sense of humour and the beauty of the place are the two things that immediately spring to mind. But it's all far outweighed by what is wrong, and I try not to dwell on it because it's just too depressing.
Monday, July 23, 2007
The rise of the humble blackberry
There are very few good things in life that are free. Blackberries are one of them. I was interested to read today that demand for the fruit has grown by 15% in the last year. Sadly though the word blackberry has been hijacked by the accursed BlackBerry hand-held. And the innocent, delicious pastime of "blackberrying" has probably all but disappeared. I doubt if the young even realise you can help yourself to very fine blackberries in the wild rather than going to Sainsburys to buy cultivated punnets from countries like Mexico and Holland, for around £1.99.
But blackberrying can still be done, and a fine pastime it is.
When I grew up in Devon everyone was at it. My dad was an avid blackberryer, and even when emphysema had taken hold, he was still blackberrying, although one time he tripped into a bramble and was virtually held upside down while my mother ran screeching for help.
Where we live, in a leafy suburb of London, there are brambles everywhere. Look, I cry to John as we go out for a walk. Look at all those brambles! We must come back when they're ripe with suitable receptacles.
He humours me while dreading that I may mean it, because I get the impression that taking nature's bounty is not the done thing in this neck of the woods. Last year a piece of wasteground near the garage yielded an absolute bounty of the black beauties and I was in there, happy to get scratched, pushing my way through the brambles to get to the juicier specimens at the back of the bushes.
Unfortunately that was the first and only time because that little piece of wasteground then became a shrine to the car (someone else's) and was hastily stamped out.
And what delicious things were made from blackberries when I was young! Bramble seedless (jam without the pips); blackberry and apple pie; blackberry and apple crumble. Now I have them stewed on my breakfast cereal. I do buy them from Sainsburys but no matter where they come from, Mexico, France or UK, the cultivated ones don't taste anything like the wild blackberries.
So I'm looking forward to the time when they ripen, although I imagine the lack of sun is probably not helping. I'm not telling you all where the bushes are because if you've got any sense you'll be out there too with your Tupperware. Just don't try to pick them when they've gone over. A Devonshire saying is (and excuse me for this), if you leave them too long, the devil piddles on them.
Sunday, July 22, 2007
The delicious irony of it all
I had to smile when I read the headlines generated by the Food Standards Agency's discovery that it's not only what the papers euphemistically call "low income families" who eat convenience foods high in fat and e numbers. What the Independent today calls "middle class families" (a bold step nowadays to refer to class!) are equally guilty. In fact, there is hardly any difference between what the two types put in their trolley, whether that trolley is being pushed around in Lidl, Asda or Waitrose.
What made me smile was the imagining of shrill rebuttals and disbelief in the middle class homes of the chattering classes. The people who pay through the nose for organic produce and sneer at "low income families" saying that their children are hyperactive and fat because they're fed a diet consisting of the McCains range, cheesy lunchables and the Colonel's bargain bucket. Their chocolate is by Green & Black, not Cadbury, their crisps by Kettle and not Walkers; they rarely pay less than a tenner for a bottle of wine, and they like to buy fresh herbs and whatever's trendy to stave off ageing, pomegranate, blueberries, etc.
Yet despite all their foody posturing, they still lack knowledge of nutrition and health. Or perhaps they have the knowledge but still succumb to the lure of the ready meal. As one commentator pointed out last week, actually we do all know about nutrition and what we should be doing (making meals from scratch, freezing them, eating five portions of fruit and veg a day) but the way of modern life is not to do this. It's all about ease and convenience.
Today at the gym for example, I saw a car searching for a space closest to the building. Everyone seems to do this, whether it's the gym or the superstore. It's no longer "normal" for children to walk to school, even when they can, or for anyone to walk to the shops, even if they're 10 minutes away. We've become use to this life of sloth and indolence. So we all pretend we're too busy, our lives too hectic, to possibly cook our own meals from scratch. But really we're just deluding ourselves.
What made me smile was the imagining of shrill rebuttals and disbelief in the middle class homes of the chattering classes. The people who pay through the nose for organic produce and sneer at "low income families" saying that their children are hyperactive and fat because they're fed a diet consisting of the McCains range, cheesy lunchables and the Colonel's bargain bucket. Their chocolate is by Green & Black, not Cadbury, their crisps by Kettle and not Walkers; they rarely pay less than a tenner for a bottle of wine, and they like to buy fresh herbs and whatever's trendy to stave off ageing, pomegranate, blueberries, etc.
Yet despite all their foody posturing, they still lack knowledge of nutrition and health. Or perhaps they have the knowledge but still succumb to the lure of the ready meal. As one commentator pointed out last week, actually we do all know about nutrition and what we should be doing (making meals from scratch, freezing them, eating five portions of fruit and veg a day) but the way of modern life is not to do this. It's all about ease and convenience.
Today at the gym for example, I saw a car searching for a space closest to the building. Everyone seems to do this, whether it's the gym or the superstore. It's no longer "normal" for children to walk to school, even when they can, or for anyone to walk to the shops, even if they're 10 minutes away. We've become use to this life of sloth and indolence. So we all pretend we're too busy, our lives too hectic, to possibly cook our own meals from scratch. But really we're just deluding ourselves.
Sunday, July 15, 2007
Goodbye to the Beckhams
With much fanfare, pouting and posing, the Beckhams have finally gone to Los Angeles.
It doesn't mean that we won't be spared all the usual dross about Victoria's latest shock diet or David's latest haircut. As seen this week, whatever they do in America is instantly broadcast in blighty: for example, Victoria's ridiculous attempts to look sexy while draped over the bonnet of a car, and her appearance on the Jay Leno show. There she apparently criticised Eddie Murphy. Go girl go! That man is the lowest form of life and I'm glad to see that Girl Power is reintstaed following the Spice Girls reunion.
I DO think that David is flushing his career down the toilet. It seems to me that a few months ago when he wasn't being selected for England or Real Madrid he was probably desperate for a new challenge and a megabucks contract in LA probably seemed the perfect solution.
Of course then he got recalled for England but the die was cast. He's gone out there five years too early in his career and he won't be playing for England in a year's time because he won't be good enough. The slow pace of US football won't be sufficient.
Will he succeed in converting Americans to soccer? I doubt it. Others have tried, including Pele. Beckham has the glamour factor, but soccer just won't be fast or furious enough for the Americans.
I wonder how it will all turn out. Will the Beckhams get swept into Scientology, a fate that seems to befall anyone who gets in with Tom Cruise? Will Victoria ever be able to dress down, or will dressing down continue to mean her own brand of jeans with vertigious high heels, huge bag, full slap, immaculate highlights etc.
They are such determined icons that you have to give them some respect. They give hope to chavs and wannabees everywhere.
It doesn't mean that we won't be spared all the usual dross about Victoria's latest shock diet or David's latest haircut. As seen this week, whatever they do in America is instantly broadcast in blighty: for example, Victoria's ridiculous attempts to look sexy while draped over the bonnet of a car, and her appearance on the Jay Leno show. There she apparently criticised Eddie Murphy. Go girl go! That man is the lowest form of life and I'm glad to see that Girl Power is reintstaed following the Spice Girls reunion.
I DO think that David is flushing his career down the toilet. It seems to me that a few months ago when he wasn't being selected for England or Real Madrid he was probably desperate for a new challenge and a megabucks contract in LA probably seemed the perfect solution.
Of course then he got recalled for England but the die was cast. He's gone out there five years too early in his career and he won't be playing for England in a year's time because he won't be good enough. The slow pace of US football won't be sufficient.
Will he succeed in converting Americans to soccer? I doubt it. Others have tried, including Pele. Beckham has the glamour factor, but soccer just won't be fast or furious enough for the Americans.
I wonder how it will all turn out. Will the Beckhams get swept into Scientology, a fate that seems to befall anyone who gets in with Tom Cruise? Will Victoria ever be able to dress down, or will dressing down continue to mean her own brand of jeans with vertigious high heels, huge bag, full slap, immaculate highlights etc.
They are such determined icons that you have to give them some respect. They give hope to chavs and wannabees everywhere.
Thursday, July 05, 2007
Back from Cyprus
Yes we're back from Cyprus after two blissful weeks. It was hot and sunny throughout, and on a couple of days quite uncomfortably hot in the early 90s. Quite a shock to get back to Stansted and see the rain and grey skies.
We stayed in a resort called Hotel Nausicaa (also known as Blue Village) where we were pretty much the only Brits among literally hundreds of Scandinavians. This had its advantages: they seem to be role model parents and their children, always beautifully dressed with sun hats, rarely cried or screamed like their British counterparts. In restaurants they sat smiling and eating the same food as their parents. How do they do it?
The hotel stands in beautiful grounds with the loungers arranged on grassy terraces. There were two swimming pools or you could walk to steps leading to the sea. The water was very clear and a stunnihng turquoise.
We were in a town called Protaras which is on the SE coast, about 8km from Ayia Napa. We went to Ayia Napa for dinner one night. I was amazed at how it has changed since I was last there in 1991. Then, it was just one street and a church. Now it's a sprawling development with a new harbour. It was indeed full of Brits, and after a pleasant dinner overlooking the harbour (delicious kalamari) we had a couple of drinks in the "Queen Vic" pub where the staff are mostly British and the beers are draught.
Eating out in Protaras is a hit-and-miss affair. It's a town developed only for tourists and offers a range of different dining experiences. What we found is that a restaurant can be excellent on one night, but terrible the next. For example, we sought out Anemos after seeing it was recommended in the AA Guide to Cyprus. The first visit was excellent: we both had fresh sea bream and it was wonderful, as was the Kyperounda chardonnay (a more expensive local wine at Cyprus £9.25). The restaurant wasn't too busy that time and the service was excellent. The second time, we decided to go for a meze (18 courses). It started off very well with the dips, grilled halloumi and garlic mushrooms. But chips were brought before the final plate of meat, so we had nothing to accompany the pork souvla, spit roasted chicken and sausage. The meat was either dry or fatty, and it was disappointing there was no fish course. This time the restaurant was very busy and the service was bad.
The most consistent restaurant was the Nicolai Tavern. We went there four times and had a good experience every time, more or less (John's pork souvla was a bit dry). Their house wines were unusually good, and the kalamari stifado was excellent. But the puddings were disappointing: just crepes or ice cream.
Our last night was reserved for Parko, a hotel restaurant with better than average service where we'd enjoyed an excellent tornedos Rossini on a previous visit. But, such is life: on our last night, not only were we sat next to some smoking Brits on the left and a screaming toddler on the right, the food was terrible too. John's tornedos Rossini was rare rather than the medium he requested, and my sea bream was dry and bony.
If you've never visited Cyprus I'd recommend going to the northern (Turkish) side which is prettier and more undeveloped. It's a long time since I was last in the Greek side (1991) and it's been developed hugely since then. It's a wonderful placew for sightseeing and variety.
Monday, June 18, 2007
Huge opportunity for grown-up MySpace
I was reading an article recently - and unfortunately I can't remember where it was, because I read so much damn stuff - about the rise of social networking sites like Facebook, Bebo, MySpace. The gist of it was that these sites are the playground of the young: that it's their way of interacting, and we oldsters have no reason to be on them and we're all sad.
I disagree!
We have more need for these sites and provide a better usage model, in marketing parlance. Let's face it, the kids see each other all day at school and then they rush home and spend hours either chatting online or completing turgid and detailed profiles about themselves.
Whereas we oldsters may have moved house quite often, moved jobs, lost contact with schoolmates and former colleagues, plus we might be on the second or third divorce so maybe looking for a new soulmate. We're also keen to do "proper" networking to build our business contacts. Linked In is a good site that offers this, but not much else. Plus we usually have interesting hobbies - photography, travel and so on - where we'd like to share photos and experiences. If you combined all this in a compelling website that wasn't patronising, we wouldn't need to frequent the kids' sites.
But I haven't found a site yet that caters for this potentially huge market, so I do have a presence on Facebook and MySpace, although I'm in a minority in the UK. None of my friends or colleagues in the UK over the age of 30 are on these sites. (I did consider Bebo just a little too young for me!). So Tom, Jeff, the Google team. Seize the mettle.
I disagree!
We have more need for these sites and provide a better usage model, in marketing parlance. Let's face it, the kids see each other all day at school and then they rush home and spend hours either chatting online or completing turgid and detailed profiles about themselves.
Whereas we oldsters may have moved house quite often, moved jobs, lost contact with schoolmates and former colleagues, plus we might be on the second or third divorce so maybe looking for a new soulmate. We're also keen to do "proper" networking to build our business contacts. Linked In is a good site that offers this, but not much else. Plus we usually have interesting hobbies - photography, travel and so on - where we'd like to share photos and experiences. If you combined all this in a compelling website that wasn't patronising, we wouldn't need to frequent the kids' sites.
But I haven't found a site yet that caters for this potentially huge market, so I do have a presence on Facebook and MySpace, although I'm in a minority in the UK. None of my friends or colleagues in the UK over the age of 30 are on these sites. (I did consider Bebo just a little too young for me!). So Tom, Jeff, the Google team. Seize the mettle.
Monday, June 11, 2007
Katie's fan hits back
Very amused to get a couple of anonymous comments from someone who sounds like Disgusted of Kensington, hitting back at my "Katie Slapper" piece. I suspect it's the same person - possibly Mensa candidate Katie herself - because both times Michelle Mone from Ultimo got a blasting. The funny thing is, I wasn't all that positive about her either (see my last par) - but I did enjoy the way she was the only one so far who put Katie Hopkins in her place.
Over the weekend, other women pitched in with their views on Katie (whose sexploits, btw, were plastered all over the tabloids yesterday). The headline "Superbitches are sad" reflected the views of India Knight in the Sunday Times who said Katie is a sad relic from yesteryear, trying to out-bitch everyone. Ulrika Jonsson (please, no jokes about pots and kettles!)in the News of the World said she was a traitor to all women. "She flirted, simpered, bitched and backstabbed her way to the semi-final. And then she bottled it."
It's time to move on now from Katie, whose 15 minutes of celebrity is now over. But a word to my anonymous comment writer: I would have thought Katie would be a keen Eurovision fan herself. Her 80s wardrobe and make-up certainly suggests that! Perhaps next time you'll be bold enough to give your name?
As for the winner of The Apprentice: my money is on Kristina. Very early on in the series it was clear she was head and shoulders above the rest of the candidates with her mature, objective, strategic insight. She would be a definite asset to Sir Alan. He said a while ago he wanted someone who was fully rounded who could run one of his companies. Kristina could do that easily. Simon is too young; he's a loose cannon. He might have good ideas (not sure that we've seen any) but he lacks gravitas and business acumen.
Over the weekend, other women pitched in with their views on Katie (whose sexploits, btw, were plastered all over the tabloids yesterday). The headline "Superbitches are sad" reflected the views of India Knight in the Sunday Times who said Katie is a sad relic from yesteryear, trying to out-bitch everyone. Ulrika Jonsson (please, no jokes about pots and kettles!)in the News of the World said she was a traitor to all women. "She flirted, simpered, bitched and backstabbed her way to the semi-final. And then she bottled it."
It's time to move on now from Katie, whose 15 minutes of celebrity is now over. But a word to my anonymous comment writer: I would have thought Katie would be a keen Eurovision fan herself. Her 80s wardrobe and make-up certainly suggests that! Perhaps next time you'll be bold enough to give your name?
As for the winner of The Apprentice: my money is on Kristina. Very early on in the series it was clear she was head and shoulders above the rest of the candidates with her mature, objective, strategic insight. She would be a definite asset to Sir Alan. He said a while ago he wanted someone who was fully rounded who could run one of his companies. Kristina could do that easily. Simon is too young; he's a loose cannon. He might have good ideas (not sure that we've seen any) but he lacks gravitas and business acumen.
Sunday, June 10, 2007
My celebrity lookalikes
My cool celebrity look-alike collage from MyHeritage.com. Get one for yourself.
I found this in someone else's blog...neat huh? I had to try three photos before it found one that worked...and then the matches I was given were (a) male and (b) Japanese! I've used some of the women who were said to be matches but I kept the #1 match, a male!
Apparently you can upload pictures of your ancestors and the system will try to match them with other people. Probably early days yet, but exciting technology as their database develops.
I found this in someone else's blog...neat huh? I had to try three photos before it found one that worked...and then the matches I was given were (a) male and (b) Japanese! I've used some of the women who were said to be matches but I kept the #1 match, a male!
Apparently you can upload pictures of your ancestors and the system will try to match them with other people. Probably early days yet, but exciting technology as their database develops.
Friday, June 08, 2007
Paris Hilton: what did you expect?
I had a little snigger when I heard that Paris Hilton had been released from jail so soon on "health grounds." What health grounds, I wondered - a broken finger nail?
But really folks, what were you expecting? That she would do her full term and emerge chastened and remorseful? I knew there would be some sort of dodge to get her out quickly. Money is everything, even with the law.
What surprises me a little is the sentiment around her release. It's like wolves baying for blood. OK, so she's a pampered princess, an heiress whose biggest daily challenge is changing clothes several times and accessorizing the dog's jacket to match. She has a useless, worthless life, but she seems happy enough with that. I don't think she's troubled by enough brain cells to want more.
It seems to me that most of the antipathy is fuelled by nothing more than good old-fashioned jealousy, and outrage that money can open doors anywhere, it would seem.
Folks, get over it: if I take a good long look at the life of Paris Hilton, I can guarantee it's going to be one disaster after another: superficial relationships based on money, drugs, alcohol, dissatisfaction. Unless she finds a cause, or purpose for her life, she will drift. The roller coaster of plastic surgery will inevitably follow as she tries to keep her looks (though I'm always perplexed about this "Paris is beautiful" thing because to me she looks like an anteater). There's nothing very lucky about a life like that.
I am surprised her advisors didn't see this as an opportunity to relaunch her on a better path. Naomi Campbell apparently performed her community service as a cleaner very cheerfully - or so she says in the book that inevitably followed. I was half hoping that Paris would serve her time humbly and then come out fired up with the desire to reform the penal system. But I forgot - I guess you need a few brain cells to do that.
But really folks, what were you expecting? That she would do her full term and emerge chastened and remorseful? I knew there would be some sort of dodge to get her out quickly. Money is everything, even with the law.
What surprises me a little is the sentiment around her release. It's like wolves baying for blood. OK, so she's a pampered princess, an heiress whose biggest daily challenge is changing clothes several times and accessorizing the dog's jacket to match. She has a useless, worthless life, but she seems happy enough with that. I don't think she's troubled by enough brain cells to want more.
It seems to me that most of the antipathy is fuelled by nothing more than good old-fashioned jealousy, and outrage that money can open doors anywhere, it would seem.
Folks, get over it: if I take a good long look at the life of Paris Hilton, I can guarantee it's going to be one disaster after another: superficial relationships based on money, drugs, alcohol, dissatisfaction. Unless she finds a cause, or purpose for her life, she will drift. The roller coaster of plastic surgery will inevitably follow as she tries to keep her looks (though I'm always perplexed about this "Paris is beautiful" thing because to me she looks like an anteater). There's nothing very lucky about a life like that.
I am surprised her advisors didn't see this as an opportunity to relaunch her on a better path. Naomi Campbell apparently performed her community service as a cleaner very cheerfully - or so she says in the book that inevitably followed. I was half hoping that Paris would serve her time humbly and then come out fired up with the desire to reform the penal system. But I forgot - I guess you need a few brain cells to do that.
Thursday, June 07, 2007
Katie Slapper gets her comeuppance
Wasn't last night's episode of The Apprentice gripping? You could practically read the thought processes as Katie, red in the face, realised the game was up and had to stand down.
The only unfortunate aspect, to me, is that she'd made the final and will probably think she would have won - had she not graciously stepped aside.
It was pretty obvious that Katie was simply there to win the game, not to do the job. She was still denying this on TV today, but Katie, sorry, you're exposed by the fact you didn't even bother to read up on Sir Alan and his companies. If you'd done so, you would have realised he doesn't have an office in Exeter, Bournemouth or any other place where your family and helpers live, and a relocation to Brentwood was inevitable.
It's also obvious that Katie has created a brand, herself as monster, to get some notoriety. She'll be briefly in the public eye as a symbol of slapperdom, ruthlessness, whatever. But she'll then sink like a stone and she'll probably find her colleagues and friends a little more wary of her.
Last night's "The Apprentice You're Fired" programme was also excellent simply for the spectacle of successful businesswoman Michelle Mone giving Katie a piece of her mind. "I would nae employ ye," declared Michelle, the Scottish founder of Ultimo. Katie was unphased and gave some sardonic reply about being glad that Michelle represents public opinion. Michelle snapped back that Katie had too high an opinion of herself and if she was really as successful as she makes out, why was she not sitting in her seat? Priceless.
A few years ago I emailed Michelle Mone with a new business suggestion. I suggested that Ultimo start selling good-looking support lingerie. Not their backless bodies, but waist cinchers and "big pants." At that time, I was way ahead of Gok Wan (How to Look Good Naked) and she could have gained a big competitive advantage by grabbing this potentially huge - in more ways than one - market. But I didn't even get a reply. Not very entrepreneurial, Ms Mone, eh?
The only unfortunate aspect, to me, is that she'd made the final and will probably think she would have won - had she not graciously stepped aside.
It was pretty obvious that Katie was simply there to win the game, not to do the job. She was still denying this on TV today, but Katie, sorry, you're exposed by the fact you didn't even bother to read up on Sir Alan and his companies. If you'd done so, you would have realised he doesn't have an office in Exeter, Bournemouth or any other place where your family and helpers live, and a relocation to Brentwood was inevitable.
It's also obvious that Katie has created a brand, herself as monster, to get some notoriety. She'll be briefly in the public eye as a symbol of slapperdom, ruthlessness, whatever. But she'll then sink like a stone and she'll probably find her colleagues and friends a little more wary of her.
Last night's "The Apprentice You're Fired" programme was also excellent simply for the spectacle of successful businesswoman Michelle Mone giving Katie a piece of her mind. "I would nae employ ye," declared Michelle, the Scottish founder of Ultimo. Katie was unphased and gave some sardonic reply about being glad that Michelle represents public opinion. Michelle snapped back that Katie had too high an opinion of herself and if she was really as successful as she makes out, why was she not sitting in her seat? Priceless.
A few years ago I emailed Michelle Mone with a new business suggestion. I suggested that Ultimo start selling good-looking support lingerie. Not their backless bodies, but waist cinchers and "big pants." At that time, I was way ahead of Gok Wan (How to Look Good Naked) and she could have gained a big competitive advantage by grabbing this potentially huge - in more ways than one - market. But I didn't even get a reply. Not very entrepreneurial, Ms Mone, eh?
Tuesday, June 05, 2007
Finding out your real age
Nancy Dell'Olio raised a few eyebrows this week when she said she had no qualms about trying for a baby at her age (which is not known, but widely believed to be nearer 50 than 40) because her "real age" is 26.
Real age, rather than biological age, is calculated by assessing many factors including your fitness levels, diet, your immediate family's health, how often you floss your teeth, how many miles you drive and how many friends you have, amongst other things.
I blithely imagined I would have a real age up there with Nancy's because I'm always able to tick "no" to all the boxes that ever ask if you've had asthma, epilepsy, dropsy or whatever; I exercise around twice a week, eat a largely healthy diet, take vitamin supplements and have no financial or other worries.
So I took the Realage test, which is free and accessible here.
It turned out my real age was five years younger than my...er...real (biological) age, but there is plenty of room for improvement. One of the surprise findings is that I don't take enough vitamin E. I had to grab the bottle of high-potency multivitamins and minerals that I take and enter some of the numbers. It contains 10mg of vitamin E when I should be taking 40mg or more, and potassium levels were also low. I don't eat enough grains or rice each week and I don't eat enough of the healthy fats found in nuts and olive oil.
Of course, twice a week isn't enough exercise (I knew that).
It helps if you know your resting pulse rate, cholesterol levels and blood pressure before you take the test. I've had all these done and they were all average but I couldn't be bothered to find the results, so by entering "average" without giving exact data makes the test compilers suspicious.
And no surprises that because I drive around 12000 miles a year, and have a mobile phone conversation at least once every journey (although it is hands-free), I'm at greater risk.
It is food for thought though and well worth doing.
Real age, rather than biological age, is calculated by assessing many factors including your fitness levels, diet, your immediate family's health, how often you floss your teeth, how many miles you drive and how many friends you have, amongst other things.
I blithely imagined I would have a real age up there with Nancy's because I'm always able to tick "no" to all the boxes that ever ask if you've had asthma, epilepsy, dropsy or whatever; I exercise around twice a week, eat a largely healthy diet, take vitamin supplements and have no financial or other worries.
So I took the Realage test, which is free and accessible here.
It turned out my real age was five years younger than my...er...real (biological) age, but there is plenty of room for improvement. One of the surprise findings is that I don't take enough vitamin E. I had to grab the bottle of high-potency multivitamins and minerals that I take and enter some of the numbers. It contains 10mg of vitamin E when I should be taking 40mg or more, and potassium levels were also low. I don't eat enough grains or rice each week and I don't eat enough of the healthy fats found in nuts and olive oil.
Of course, twice a week isn't enough exercise (I knew that).
It helps if you know your resting pulse rate, cholesterol levels and blood pressure before you take the test. I've had all these done and they were all average but I couldn't be bothered to find the results, so by entering "average" without giving exact data makes the test compilers suspicious.
And no surprises that because I drive around 12000 miles a year, and have a mobile phone conversation at least once every journey (although it is hands-free), I'm at greater risk.
It is food for thought though and well worth doing.
Thursday, May 31, 2007
Cold turkey on Big Brother
No, the new inmates weren't given some chilled poultry to enjoy. What I mean is that I, the curious girl, the mysterious Gail, have gone cold turkey on Big Brother. For the first time, I'm not going to watch it. My colleague Matthew has also made the same vow.
For me, it was Shilpa-gate that did it. What bugged me about Shilpa-gate was that eveyone got on their high horses about it but bullying has been rife in Big Brother ever since it started. Remember Shabahz from the last series? Even Jade was bullied the first time round and humiliated when she took all her clothes off, exposed her kebab in a drunken moment, and wasn't rescued by queen bitch Kate Lawler.
Plus, as Matthew says, you waste the whole summer. And the people are usually so dull, so stupid, so tiresome. There's rarely any repartee or badinage. Sometimes the challenges are good, but they're usually few and far between. So, begone, Big Brother, I despise you.
Anyway, I was spared from temptation last night, the night when Davina goes into shriek overload as the housemates go into the house. I was living it up in Swindon, dining at Picklejohns with some pals. Really scrummy curry. And such good company! Paula Lender-Swain you're the tops. There, I did it!
For me, it was Shilpa-gate that did it. What bugged me about Shilpa-gate was that eveyone got on their high horses about it but bullying has been rife in Big Brother ever since it started. Remember Shabahz from the last series? Even Jade was bullied the first time round and humiliated when she took all her clothes off, exposed her kebab in a drunken moment, and wasn't rescued by queen bitch Kate Lawler.
Plus, as Matthew says, you waste the whole summer. And the people are usually so dull, so stupid, so tiresome. There's rarely any repartee or badinage. Sometimes the challenges are good, but they're usually few and far between. So, begone, Big Brother, I despise you.
Anyway, I was spared from temptation last night, the night when Davina goes into shriek overload as the housemates go into the house. I was living it up in Swindon, dining at Picklejohns with some pals. Really scrummy curry. And such good company! Paula Lender-Swain you're the tops. There, I did it!
Friday, May 25, 2007
Incandescent: it's the Daily Mail again
I shouldn't ever pick up the Daily Mail. Remind me not to. It always renders me incandescent with rage; apoplectic; nay, I become "Disgusted of Tunbridge Wells" (if I lived there, of course).
Anyway, I somehow found myself reading the tired old rag today. What aroused my ire was a story about a woman's record £4m divorce settlement. The woman is pictured "beaming" at the news, and the underlying message from the Mail's story is that yet another poor hard-done-by man has been fleeced by his ex-wife.
The Daily Mail hates women. If you analysed the paper's coverage, you would find it regularly adopts a negative approach to women on anything relating to work (women should stay at home), single mothers (beyond the pale), career women (women should stay at home) and older women who try to look good (beauty is only for the young, old hag).
Whenever there's a story about a successful businesswoman deciding she can't have it all, and giving up work, the Mail crows about it triumphantly and the next day runs an article where more women state the same thing, giving it the chance to refer to "a trend."
Yet women who have "only" been housewives are similarly derided by the Mail when they have the cheek to expect a decent divorce settlement. Take this into account, misogynists of the Mail: often a woman has given up her career prospects to stay at home and have children. She contributes directly to the husband's career by making it easy for him to work. She makes ends meet in the early days of his career. If you priced her contributions individually - cleaning, washing, childcare, ironing, shopping for his family's birthdays and so on - it would come to a high price.
I guess what bugs me the most is that women continue to buy the Mail. They don't see how it diminishes them. The Mail in its advertising used to be directly pitched at women. Ironic, isn't it. I often wonder if the editor and his team laugh at the irony of persuading women to read a newspaper written by men who hate them. I guess they would see it more as an opportunity to re-educate foolish women about the error of their ways.
Anyway, I somehow found myself reading the tired old rag today. What aroused my ire was a story about a woman's record £4m divorce settlement. The woman is pictured "beaming" at the news, and the underlying message from the Mail's story is that yet another poor hard-done-by man has been fleeced by his ex-wife.
The Daily Mail hates women. If you analysed the paper's coverage, you would find it regularly adopts a negative approach to women on anything relating to work (women should stay at home), single mothers (beyond the pale), career women (women should stay at home) and older women who try to look good (beauty is only for the young, old hag).
Whenever there's a story about a successful businesswoman deciding she can't have it all, and giving up work, the Mail crows about it triumphantly and the next day runs an article where more women state the same thing, giving it the chance to refer to "a trend."
Yet women who have "only" been housewives are similarly derided by the Mail when they have the cheek to expect a decent divorce settlement. Take this into account, misogynists of the Mail: often a woman has given up her career prospects to stay at home and have children. She contributes directly to the husband's career by making it easy for him to work. She makes ends meet in the early days of his career. If you priced her contributions individually - cleaning, washing, childcare, ironing, shopping for his family's birthdays and so on - it would come to a high price.
I guess what bugs me the most is that women continue to buy the Mail. They don't see how it diminishes them. The Mail in its advertising used to be directly pitched at women. Ironic, isn't it. I often wonder if the editor and his team laugh at the irony of persuading women to read a newspaper written by men who hate them. I guess they would see it more as an opportunity to re-educate foolish women about the error of their ways.
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
Hoorah for Princess Stephanie
I've been trying to give up my Hello magazine habit. Whenever Prince William, his ex girlfriend or The Queen feature on the cover, I find it easy not to buy it that week. They are pretty dull, after all. William gets more and more like Edward with every passing day. But I'm never going to be able to give up Hello completely because I'd lose touch with Princess Stephanie.
Now here's a more interesting and colourful royal! In fact the whole Monagasque dynasty is far more interesting than our dry old German born Windsors.
Princess Stephanie, just to recap, is the youngest daughter of the late Prince Rainier and his filmstar wife Grace Kelly, who sadly died in a car crash with Stephanie as their vehicle went out of control on the sharp bends leading to the palace.
She has had a most varied and fascinating life: a model and popstar at various times and always very interested in circus life. Indeed, she has had relationships/marriages with lion tamers and acrobats and lived in a caravan at one time. She is also notorious for relationships with "the hired help," including a bodyguard, Daniel Ducruet, whom she married and then divorced within days of him canoodling with another woman.
And while all this has been going on, Stephanie has often famously fallen out with her sister Caroline, who likes to appear very regal and stately these days but in her younger days was quite wild and married a middle aged playboy against her parents' wishes. Hello always shows the Red Rose ball in Monte Carlo each year and sometimes Stephanie isn't there because she's fallen out with Caroline again.
I'm very fond of Stephanie; she lives her life and thinks "to hell with the rest," and being a princess, she comes under a lot of scrutiny and is brave to do her own thing. Lately she looks very sad in pictures. And we haven't seen much of her in Hello! lately. (Note to editor: no need to go downmarket and follow OK! Who cares about soap stars and WAGs?).
Stephanie, time to bounce back: a new career perhaps? I think she'd make an excellent chat show host and Parky is way over the hill.
Now here's a more interesting and colourful royal! In fact the whole Monagasque dynasty is far more interesting than our dry old German born Windsors.
Princess Stephanie, just to recap, is the youngest daughter of the late Prince Rainier and his filmstar wife Grace Kelly, who sadly died in a car crash with Stephanie as their vehicle went out of control on the sharp bends leading to the palace.
She has had a most varied and fascinating life: a model and popstar at various times and always very interested in circus life. Indeed, she has had relationships/marriages with lion tamers and acrobats and lived in a caravan at one time. She is also notorious for relationships with "the hired help," including a bodyguard, Daniel Ducruet, whom she married and then divorced within days of him canoodling with another woman.
And while all this has been going on, Stephanie has often famously fallen out with her sister Caroline, who likes to appear very regal and stately these days but in her younger days was quite wild and married a middle aged playboy against her parents' wishes. Hello always shows the Red Rose ball in Monte Carlo each year and sometimes Stephanie isn't there because she's fallen out with Caroline again.
I'm very fond of Stephanie; she lives her life and thinks "to hell with the rest," and being a princess, she comes under a lot of scrutiny and is brave to do her own thing. Lately she looks very sad in pictures. And we haven't seen much of her in Hello! lately. (Note to editor: no need to go downmarket and follow OK! Who cares about soap stars and WAGs?).
Stephanie, time to bounce back: a new career perhaps? I think she'd make an excellent chat show host and Parky is way over the hill.
Thursday, May 17, 2007
Sell your blog
Now folks, if you want to get lots of hits for your blog, write about Elizabeth Hurley or Carole McGiffin.
I know the ladies may not appear to have much in common, but Google searches for "Elizabeth Hurley Indian wedding" and "Carole McGiffin - naked" frequently drive people to my humble site, although I hasten to add Carole McGiffin was fully clad when I wrote that she'd make a good dinner party guest a few months ago.
Since I started blogging, I've tried most of the tips and tricks to try to build traffic. There are always new blog communities, catalogues and portals being started, and on the whole they're a waste of time. Mybloglog and Britblog are honourable exceptions. Mybloglog is great. It's a bit of a schmooze-fest where you visit other people's blogs, leave positive feedback and join their community. But it's the biggest traffic generator. Britblog is the only directory in the UK that I've found where you can find blogs by their location and subject matter. I've been able to find quite a few local to me.
A few weeks ago I plugged a few sites I've found and enjoy reading. Interestingly, I didn't tell their creators, but they all got back to me saying thanks, so your visits must have shown on their tracking data. Mybloglog has very good visitor data for a modest fee.
One thing I've decided not to subscribe to is the manipulation of Technorati rankings. Bloggers are forever trying to find ways to improve their Technorati ratings. Basically, you need other blogs to link to you. So there are several sites where you can add a whole list of unknown people to your favourites, and lo and behold, their rankings shoot up. I did try it once but nobody seemed to reciprocate. Technorati will lose credibility if this goes on. Surely it's better to attract readers organically through your subject matter?
So here are a few more blogs of note that I've found:
1) Moon's David Bowie Webdream Not surprisingly, a blog about David Bowie - but loosely. There's other musical content too: a recent piece about Freddie Mercury for example.
2) There are a lot of blogs about finding serendipity, enriching your life and so on. Sumangali is a UK writer with a well written, good looking and thought provoking site.
3) One of the few techy sites I read is yack yack. Some good tips and info here.
4) If you like vintage and retro, check out Retro Romance
5) Finally two blogs from former colleagues: Lucy's and Marc's. Happy reading!
I know the ladies may not appear to have much in common, but Google searches for "Elizabeth Hurley Indian wedding" and "Carole McGiffin - naked" frequently drive people to my humble site, although I hasten to add Carole McGiffin was fully clad when I wrote that she'd make a good dinner party guest a few months ago.
Since I started blogging, I've tried most of the tips and tricks to try to build traffic. There are always new blog communities, catalogues and portals being started, and on the whole they're a waste of time. Mybloglog and Britblog are honourable exceptions. Mybloglog is great. It's a bit of a schmooze-fest where you visit other people's blogs, leave positive feedback and join their community. But it's the biggest traffic generator. Britblog is the only directory in the UK that I've found where you can find blogs by their location and subject matter. I've been able to find quite a few local to me.
A few weeks ago I plugged a few sites I've found and enjoy reading. Interestingly, I didn't tell their creators, but they all got back to me saying thanks, so your visits must have shown on their tracking data. Mybloglog has very good visitor data for a modest fee.
One thing I've decided not to subscribe to is the manipulation of Technorati rankings. Bloggers are forever trying to find ways to improve their Technorati ratings. Basically, you need other blogs to link to you. So there are several sites where you can add a whole list of unknown people to your favourites, and lo and behold, their rankings shoot up. I did try it once but nobody seemed to reciprocate. Technorati will lose credibility if this goes on. Surely it's better to attract readers organically through your subject matter?
So here are a few more blogs of note that I've found:
1) Moon's David Bowie Webdream Not surprisingly, a blog about David Bowie - but loosely. There's other musical content too: a recent piece about Freddie Mercury for example.
2) There are a lot of blogs about finding serendipity, enriching your life and so on. Sumangali is a UK writer with a well written, good looking and thought provoking site.
3) One of the few techy sites I read is yack yack. Some good tips and info here.
4) If you like vintage and retro, check out Retro Romance
5) Finally two blogs from former colleagues: Lucy's and Marc's. Happy reading!
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
Nothing to wear!
Male readers suppress that wry smile. It's true, I have nothing to wear! You see, I indulged in a Trinny and Susannah style raid on my wardrobe, having brought down the summer clothes from the loft. Garment after garment was thrown into a black bin liner. "Too old," "too middle-aged," "never wear it."
The outcome was that there's a lot more room in the wardrobe, but finding an outfit for the office yesterday was quite a trial. The fluctuations of the English weather don't help. Normally, for my one or two days in the office, I wear dark trousers or a skirt and a jumper (short sleeved for summer). Before you visualise reindeers on the jumper or cute embroidery, they are very plain cashmere jumpers from M&S. And I usually wear some large-ish beads in dark colours.
But now that we're on the cusp of spring and summer, my two grey skirts were ruled out because opaque tights don't seem right, but nor will I be seen dead in sheer tights. And it's too early for bare legs, so that ruled out last year's pair of navy city shorts too, and a cream skirt that I love but have only worn once.
So that left me with trousers: black or brown, two pairs, or new, cream flannel (but I have the sneaking feeling they make me look fat). There are three other pairs but they've all mysteriously gone half-mast. Perhaps I'm confounding science by continuing to grow? The only way I can wear those trousers again is by buying ballet pumps, but as they're the most uncomfortable footwear known to woman, and old hat now to boot, I won't be doing that.
Eventually I put on what I call my David Bowie Oxford bags: fairly wide dark brown trousers that come up to the waist, Simon Cowell style. (But that's trendy now, right?). But what a time it took. I thought I looked a bit wintery at the time I left home when it was sunny, but by the time I got to Swindon it was pouring with rain and I was lamenting the fact I hadn't brought a coat.
Ideally, I should seek out some beautifully cut Joseph trousers, uplevel my cashmere to Brora and source some spectacular beads. I need more shoes too. And I used to have several simple shift dresses in plain colours, but they seem very old-fashioned now with all these ghastly smock and empire line frocks around.
Clothes shopping has become a bit of a bete-noire. I just don't like doing it. When I go into most women's shops, there's a niggly voice inside my head that ruins the experience. It's constantly saying "your arms are too big for sleeveless," "you can't wear empire line," "your thighs are too big for those." And with shops like Zara, where the clothes are mysteriously sized, there's the stress of wondering what size you're going to have to have to buy. I am a fairly normal size 12 to 14, I would add (US eight to 10).
So I always scuttle back into the relatively stress-free environment of M&S in Marble Arch where the inner voice is largely silenced, and some of the Autograph and Limited collections are very good.
But it's not always a happy experience. There are always depessing racks of clothes that refuse to sell: the jumpers in hideous colours, ghastly cheap looking peasant style flouncy skirts in Per Uno and acres of Footglove shoes built for comfort. Coupled with hideous changing rooms with mirrors that act like searchlights, this is often not a pleasant experience and probably why so many of us buy clothes there without trying them on and then have to bring them back.
Mail order is not the answer either. I get some wonderful tops in flattering colours from Kettlewell Colours which don't need to be sent back, but when I bought clothes from Boden they always seem to be disappointing in fit and quality, but too much of a faff to send back, so they're kept but seldom worn. Life is too short to have to wait in for couriers all day, or have to go to the post office and queue for 20 minutes. So what's a girl to do? Answers on a postcard.
The outcome was that there's a lot more room in the wardrobe, but finding an outfit for the office yesterday was quite a trial. The fluctuations of the English weather don't help. Normally, for my one or two days in the office, I wear dark trousers or a skirt and a jumper (short sleeved for summer). Before you visualise reindeers on the jumper or cute embroidery, they are very plain cashmere jumpers from M&S. And I usually wear some large-ish beads in dark colours.
But now that we're on the cusp of spring and summer, my two grey skirts were ruled out because opaque tights don't seem right, but nor will I be seen dead in sheer tights. And it's too early for bare legs, so that ruled out last year's pair of navy city shorts too, and a cream skirt that I love but have only worn once.
So that left me with trousers: black or brown, two pairs, or new, cream flannel (but I have the sneaking feeling they make me look fat). There are three other pairs but they've all mysteriously gone half-mast. Perhaps I'm confounding science by continuing to grow? The only way I can wear those trousers again is by buying ballet pumps, but as they're the most uncomfortable footwear known to woman, and old hat now to boot, I won't be doing that.
Eventually I put on what I call my David Bowie Oxford bags: fairly wide dark brown trousers that come up to the waist, Simon Cowell style. (But that's trendy now, right?). But what a time it took. I thought I looked a bit wintery at the time I left home when it was sunny, but by the time I got to Swindon it was pouring with rain and I was lamenting the fact I hadn't brought a coat.
Ideally, I should seek out some beautifully cut Joseph trousers, uplevel my cashmere to Brora and source some spectacular beads. I need more shoes too. And I used to have several simple shift dresses in plain colours, but they seem very old-fashioned now with all these ghastly smock and empire line frocks around.
Clothes shopping has become a bit of a bete-noire. I just don't like doing it. When I go into most women's shops, there's a niggly voice inside my head that ruins the experience. It's constantly saying "your arms are too big for sleeveless," "you can't wear empire line," "your thighs are too big for those." And with shops like Zara, where the clothes are mysteriously sized, there's the stress of wondering what size you're going to have to have to buy. I am a fairly normal size 12 to 14, I would add (US eight to 10).
So I always scuttle back into the relatively stress-free environment of M&S in Marble Arch where the inner voice is largely silenced, and some of the Autograph and Limited collections are very good.
But it's not always a happy experience. There are always depessing racks of clothes that refuse to sell: the jumpers in hideous colours, ghastly cheap looking peasant style flouncy skirts in Per Uno and acres of Footglove shoes built for comfort. Coupled with hideous changing rooms with mirrors that act like searchlights, this is often not a pleasant experience and probably why so many of us buy clothes there without trying them on and then have to bring them back.
Mail order is not the answer either. I get some wonderful tops in flattering colours from Kettlewell Colours which don't need to be sent back, but when I bought clothes from Boden they always seem to be disappointing in fit and quality, but too much of a faff to send back, so they're kept but seldom worn. Life is too short to have to wait in for couriers all day, or have to go to the post office and queue for 20 minutes. So what's a girl to do? Answers on a postcard.
Sunday, May 13, 2007
Find us the song and we can win Eurovision again
Across Britain today over the Sunday brisket the conversation will be dominated by one topic: Eurovision.
We narrowly avoided the dreaded "nul points" last night thanks to Ireland and Malta, but we still finished second from bottom.
Serbia won, so I'll be going round to the bookies to collect my winnings tomorrow. A surprising winner really; the singer looked like Jeanette Krankie and she was accompanied by women in suits who looked like jailers. It was a powerful ballad of lost love (or something), as were a lot of the eastern European entries. Distinct schism between their songs and the puerile formulaeic nonsense of western Europe.
Of course today there will be a lot Meanwhile of angst and hand rubbing across western Europe. "We can never win", "It's the Eastern bloc vote," "we should pull out," etc etc.
Tosh! The new reality is that the countries which have joined Eurovision do tend to vote for neighbours rather than the song, but that doesn't mean that a song with breakthrough can't win. Look at Finland last year. They'd never won before and they're not the sort of country normally backed by any others than the Nordics.
If you look at the songs from the western European countries present - a pathetic number - they were largely terrible. Terrible. Ireland had a weak stereotypical song and the worse performance of the night. The singer was flat: it was like Jemini (nul points) all over again. Germany was a little Frank Sinatra-esque and actually not a bad song, but too sophisticated for the show. France, well, let's draw a veil over that one. Spain with a boy band could potentially have been good but it was very naff.
The UK's was so outdated, so cheesy. It may have been ok in the times of Bucks Fizz, but not in 2007. And it's no use being outraged, people. When we chose the UK song, the BBC fielded a panel of young Europeans and NONE of them said they liked Scooch. Maybe next year you'll listen.
So if we want to improve our chances, we need a better quality song and performer. Let's stop these endless TV shows that bank roll the West End productions of millionaires like Andrew Lloyd-Webber and turn the format into finding a song for Europe. This would be a great showcase for songwriting talent.
Let's stop trying to revive the careers of has-beens and again let's choose who sings in a week-by-week talent competition for song and performer.
Meanwhile, to restore the balance to Eurovision, have two semin-finals, one for western Europe and one for eastern Europe. It won't mean the end of the bloc vote but it means a more representative blend of countries, and hopefully the likes of Denmark, Belgium, the Netherlands, Malta and Norway will return: it was sad without them.
When all's said and done, last night's show was wonderfully staged and very entertaining. Drawing 300 million viewers, it must surely have one of the biggest audiences of the year and as such should be taken seriously by the UK and the BBC. We brought the world the Beatles: we should not limp out cowed by the defeat of Scooch. I'm off to collect my twenty quid.
We narrowly avoided the dreaded "nul points" last night thanks to Ireland and Malta, but we still finished second from bottom.
Serbia won, so I'll be going round to the bookies to collect my winnings tomorrow. A surprising winner really; the singer looked like Jeanette Krankie and she was accompanied by women in suits who looked like jailers. It was a powerful ballad of lost love (or something), as were a lot of the eastern European entries. Distinct schism between their songs and the puerile formulaeic nonsense of western Europe.
Of course today there will be a lot Meanwhile of angst and hand rubbing across western Europe. "We can never win", "It's the Eastern bloc vote," "we should pull out," etc etc.
Tosh! The new reality is that the countries which have joined Eurovision do tend to vote for neighbours rather than the song, but that doesn't mean that a song with breakthrough can't win. Look at Finland last year. They'd never won before and they're not the sort of country normally backed by any others than the Nordics.
If you look at the songs from the western European countries present - a pathetic number - they were largely terrible. Terrible. Ireland had a weak stereotypical song and the worse performance of the night. The singer was flat: it was like Jemini (nul points) all over again. Germany was a little Frank Sinatra-esque and actually not a bad song, but too sophisticated for the show. France, well, let's draw a veil over that one. Spain with a boy band could potentially have been good but it was very naff.
The UK's was so outdated, so cheesy. It may have been ok in the times of Bucks Fizz, but not in 2007. And it's no use being outraged, people. When we chose the UK song, the BBC fielded a panel of young Europeans and NONE of them said they liked Scooch. Maybe next year you'll listen.
So if we want to improve our chances, we need a better quality song and performer. Let's stop these endless TV shows that bank roll the West End productions of millionaires like Andrew Lloyd-Webber and turn the format into finding a song for Europe. This would be a great showcase for songwriting talent.
Let's stop trying to revive the careers of has-beens and again let's choose who sings in a week-by-week talent competition for song and performer.
Meanwhile, to restore the balance to Eurovision, have two semin-finals, one for western Europe and one for eastern Europe. It won't mean the end of the bloc vote but it means a more representative blend of countries, and hopefully the likes of Denmark, Belgium, the Netherlands, Malta and Norway will return: it was sad without them.
When all's said and done, last night's show was wonderfully staged and very entertaining. Drawing 300 million viewers, it must surely have one of the biggest audiences of the year and as such should be taken seriously by the UK and the BBC. We brought the world the Beatles: we should not limp out cowed by the defeat of Scooch. I'm off to collect my twenty quid.
Saturday, May 12, 2007
UK riding high for Nul Points
Well, today's the big day - and for the first time I've been into a bookmaker's and placed a bet on Eurovision!
I'd decided to back Ukraine and Serbia, but hearing that they were first and second favourites, I decided to stay with Serbia but go for a wildcard: Germany at 33 to 1. The bookmaker was a bit sceptical, saying the voting's all political so Germany have no chance. I probably know that but I still cling to the hope that a song from western Europe can still win.
As you aren't able to vote for your own country, it stands to reason that Ukraine will do well. They will pick up the votes from Russia and Belarus for a start. Serbia will collect the votes of FYR Macedonia and maybe Moldova (pop: 200?) but probably not Croatia. Serbia I think will pick up votes from a wider selection of countries including western Europe.
Belarus are also highly fancied.
The UK's odds were 40 to 1 at the time of betting. Maybe a safer bet would have been likelihood of UK (or Germany or France) scoring nul points. Sadly, quite high.
I saw in The Times today there's a new book called Nul Points which examines the 14 worse losers of all time. Said to be very amusing, so it's just one click away!
I'd decided to back Ukraine and Serbia, but hearing that they were first and second favourites, I decided to stay with Serbia but go for a wildcard: Germany at 33 to 1. The bookmaker was a bit sceptical, saying the voting's all political so Germany have no chance. I probably know that but I still cling to the hope that a song from western Europe can still win.
As you aren't able to vote for your own country, it stands to reason that Ukraine will do well. They will pick up the votes from Russia and Belarus for a start. Serbia will collect the votes of FYR Macedonia and maybe Moldova (pop: 200?) but probably not Croatia. Serbia I think will pick up votes from a wider selection of countries including western Europe.
Belarus are also highly fancied.
The UK's odds were 40 to 1 at the time of betting. Maybe a safer bet would have been likelihood of UK (or Germany or France) scoring nul points. Sadly, quite high.
I saw in The Times today there's a new book called Nul Points which examines the 14 worse losers of all time. Said to be very amusing, so it's just one click away!
Friday, May 11, 2007
You've only got yourselves to blame
One by one they fell. The great stalwarts and bastions of Eurovision. Denmark, Norway, Switzerland, favourites to go through with prancing vampires; Belgium and the Netherlands. Iceland, Israel, Portugal and Malta. Austria.
Among them, some great winners. Who could ever forget "Ding a Dong" from the Netherlands? Or the first transsexual winner, Dana International from Israel?
The voters of Europe (boundaries loosely defined for the purposes of this programme)turned their backs on western Europe and voted in the young pretenders: Georgia (first time), Serbia, FYR Macedonia, Belarus, Latvia, Bulgaria, Slovenia.
You've only got yourselves to blame. I can imagine that in Georgia there was probably huge excitement around this glittering festival of song and although the people couldn't vote for their own entry, a Tango'd woman with a strange head movement reminscent of Foghorn Leghorn, they voted in droves for their nearest neighbour.
While in western and northern Europe, I can imagine that the good burghers of Norway, if they were even watching, didn't bother to pick up the phone for Denmark and vice versa.
Fortunately, as I said yesterday, the Big Four, UK, Germany, Spain and France, were exempt from the semi-final and lording it over the rest as the bankers of the show. And we still have some famous Eurovision countries with us: Greece, actually represented by a London lad; Ireland; defending champions Finland (another rock entry) and Sweden, represented by a glam rock group called The Ark (most of their clothes indeed came from it).
So what of the songs, the stars of the show?
The songs I liked best came from Norway, the Netherlands, Andorra, Albania (where was Greece when they needed them?) and Iceland. But of course they all fell.
It seemed there were three distinct types of song. One, the eccentric, where strangely dressed shouty people clown around (Israel) sprinkled with transsexuals (Denmark, though it was hard to be certain). Two, overblown songs intended to represent the country's traditions. Lots of whirling dervishes in the background, backcombed hair, dresses like Morticia Adams and too much make-up (Slovenia, FYR Macedonia). And three, the traditional Eurovision shanty. A jolly little tune with a nice chorus that sticks in your head like a mallet: Norway, Belgium, Netherlands.
So in Saturday's battle we'll have traditional Eurovision battling it out against the New Pretenders and a couple of eccentrics (Germany from what I saw of them). The only song that was noticeably different was Serbia, where a female soloist who looked a bit like a man simply sang with no dancers, dry ice or outlandish costumes.
The outcome is fairly predictable. Unless western and northern Europe throws off its apathy, the newcomers will undoubtedly reign. Here's a picture of Scooch, the UK entry. It's probably the last time they'll appear in print.
Maybe next year we should reach some pacts for the semi-final. The Big Four should each officially support their neighbours to help them get through. UK could vote for the Nordics, Germany for Austria and Turkey (no change) and Poland; Spain for Andorra, Portugal and Malta; France for Belgium and the Netherlands. What do you think?
Join me tomorrow (Sat) as I assess the likely winners...and on Sunday as I lament (or celebrate?) the result.
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