3 May - Bohemian Rhapsody

Boy are my friends who got married the luckiest people in the UK. Summer has come out just for them and their grateful guests.

tbc

18 March - First Quarter Losses

Time to tot up 1st quarter losses. They are: a beanie hat dropped on skiing holiday, not a favourite. A ring, not a favourite either, but one that had been sought out repeatedly (my sister had bought me the wrong size) in trips to Italy, Hong Kong and finally found in Geneva. However, despite the cost, it started to tarnish almost immediately and had planned to take it back to Swatch shop in London. If I had taken it back last week (after I found where I had put the receipt) I would not have lost it a few days later by leaving it on the sink of a restaurant bathroom. What is the moral there? I hate, hate taking rings off, I never do. One good reason for buying gold ie it doesn’t tarnish or oxydise and there I go, take this one off to ‘preserve’ it and leave it behind. Not found of course.

The moral maybe is I didn’t care much for either object, beanie or ring, and they were taken from me to prove this. But the thing is that I’ve thought of nothing but the ring for days. Can’t buy it again as it was discontinued line and not easy to find. And as extra punishment for being distracted, have not worn a ring on that finger since so I notice even more how bare that hand is.

Then the other night I slept at friend’s house and her dog ate a cherished diaphanous light cashmere top (Nicole Fahri) which I had left on the bed. Dog is able to jump on bed and indeed came into the bedroom wanting to play – at 6am!- and I shooshed him away. Never noticed he took the top till it was found properly mauled later. Not even my creativity with adornments can mask the huge holes though some Japanese girl probably would think it's deliberately chewed. The thing is, ever since I had that top, it had two, make it three small holes/tears, which I hid with broaches, but eventually I spent a good time on Sunday last to finally fix/repair/mend it after seeking out wool of the same pale minty green colour. What is the significance of this? Either fix it immediately and have time to enjoy it or don’t bother, it will be too late? Two days after you fix what’s broken it breaks even more? Any parallels with relationships here? Help? I need explanations.

I also seem to have lost a friend, hopefully temporarily, over an offer of help her self esteem, that didn’t go down too well. Right now I bemoan the cashmere top the most. Shallow? moi?

2 August - P Diddy & Gods

We were discussing dirty dawg P Diddy and Penelope Cruz staying the night on his yacht. Am trying to picture it. She could have called a minion to bring her fresh clothes the next morning before leaving in the ones from the night before so she’s either setting it up deliberately or.. she doesn’t care. Or she wanted to spite Bono or something. Anyway.. an email arrives from male colleague who had to listen said inane discussion. He writes that he just brushed past PD but no PC in sight. Takes me a while to work out what he’s on about and remember he left yesterday for hol. In St Tropez ahhh.

Later on the same evening I go to a snazzy book launch by no longer struggling author.
tbc

19 June - Diamonds & Pain

A recent route to an exercise class takes me up and down Hatton Gardens. Twice a week on average and I can never resist looking into the diamond dealers shops. Even if am restrained, a few windows simply demand that I stop and look and I’m still confused by the abundance of diamonds on offer. Are they all real? Are they supposed to be this plentiful? If so, shouldn’t they be cheaper? Shouldn’t there be a sale? I keep looking and looking and try to work out which ones I prefer within my already set parameters. Today Maurice – young, Jewish, green eyes and glasses, should fix teeth, pops out of his shop and joins me in the rapture. Mine towards his window, his towards me. He’s flirting, but then I guess he’s been doing so for years.

I tell him what madam would like 1.25 minimum, but veering towards a 1.50 carat. I truly like the 2.0 ones as well, but am not a WAG so they will have to be avoided. No funny shapescuts, no squares, just the traditional round for me, set high on its cradle and no paves and no other bits on the band. Am just not sure I want white gold because I also like yellow gold for contrast. That would be the chief choice stumbling block. I ask him to help me chose between two I like. He goes for the smallest of the two because he says its clarity is better. What do I know? The other one seemed more twinkly to me. Ok I say, how much? £8k he answers.

See, here’s where it all goes funny because I find nothing wrong with that, and yet I’d never spend that on a car, or think of shaving a year off my mortgage payments or taking the parents on the QE2 or simply taking off for 6 months… No, £8 seems reasonable though I don’t tell Maurice that I have no objection to wearing second hand diamonds and would hope to find a cheaper deal that way for same size and clarity rock.

It further goes funny because I really don’t understand why they have to be called engagement rings and only purchased when there’s a proposal. I like the shape, I like the rock, I want one and have given up waiting for some man to proffer one, I want to buy one myself but worry it may bring bad luck and about the many times I’ll have to explain that ‘No, there’s no proposal, I just liked this ring and wanted to wear it’.

As for the man in my life… he should know the above and that I don’t require the wedding at all, save that cash, just the ring. But most men I know personally, as opposed to the ones I know of, will never spend 8k. They would find the sum ludicrous and think of many justifications to avoid such a purchase. I know I’ve covered this subject before on this blog and I haven’t changed my opinion. The amount of times I see on the hands of women I come into contact with, so called engagement rings that simply are symbolic and don’t take pride in a decent size rock, upsets me. I’d die if I was given one I don’t like. It would have such a negative effect, if every time I looked at it all I could think was of the £8k one I must must have some day soon. Here’s a thing… by my next b’day I shall have one. I think I’ll visit Maurice once a month just to check on him and by the time am ready, trust me to get him to knock off a grand minimum. Tsk! He just added that up just to test me for sure.

12 March - Sizes & Bigger Sizes

New woman joins us temporarily at work. So we have a Philadelphia (cheese) moment talking about her impending wedding in August. And looking at the engagement ring. Bit small and insignificant if you ask me but she says she wanted something unflashy. Oh dear, I must be up there with Puff Daddy on the subject of bling. Never mind. Only earlier another colleague asked me a propos one who was standing next to her ‘How much weight do you think D could lose?’
The look of horror on my face as having to be put on the spot like this meant she elaborates ‘D says she wants to lose 20kg, it’s too much surely, how much is that in pounds anyway?’ Whilst I register all this and think that 15kg she could easily shed from her tall frame, I say, as ever, and this is a good trick, that I prefer to talk sizes, so I say ‘Er D, what size are you? A 12? (I always make it one size smaller than they are anyway, which is also a good solution to not getting them to hate you forever). There is a brief smile and D says ‘No, a 14 creeping up to 16’.
So, kindly, as if speaking to a patient I say ‘But you were not always a 14 right, what were you last year?’ - didn’t know her then but it’s also always a good ploy. She answers she’d gone down to a 10 for her wedding last Sept. ‘There you go,’ I soothe, ‘that’s 2 sizes to go, but you could aim for one less, just set a goal of size 12, that’s not too difficult to achieve, you eat well and you exercise, so I can only assume it’s the booze? Do you drink with every meal…?
She says not much (dead giveaway that she does), but that when she does, when she’s out, she really goes for it. Yes, can vouch for that, the few times we've been out together after work. Yes, damage done, I think smugly as I definitely don’t do that and feel sick just looking at women downing pints of beer or wine. Nobody ever seems to correlate the contents to a bag of sugar. Thankfully someone else who wants something ‘now’ comes to interrupt this potentially ruinous exchange and when he’s gone, we don’t resume the conversation. Phew!
As the resident size 8 (one of 3 similarly built vs. 5 x size 14 to 16 and an 18 around me, I feel the pressure. If I had a fiver for each time someone says ‘but you’re so skinny!’ or a fiver for each time I refrain from saying ‘Yes, believe me it’s hard not to eat pains of chocolat each day, followed by a bap sandwich and crisps and cola, but you know the two are correlated to getting to your size! Oh and by the way, if you never exercise, forget it’ I’d be rich. Thing is, even the v. happy, v. sorted, v. regular shagged by boyfriend size 18, brings out her old photo from 2 years ago when she was a stone lighter and begs me to look at how she was… I mumble something about ‘You’re just not happy here, go on holiday, change job, it will all fall off you’.
I don’t know… me, something I don’t like, I try to change it. Can’t be that difficult? Or rather, I know that it is folks, but allow me to occasionally rant as it's frikkin' hard work staying PC around so many people with weight issues. And if this pisses you off, let me make it even worse by saying 'Don't go into Topshop and moan you can't find anything if you're a size 14, stick to other shops, they do exist'. I was called 'large' once in a shop in Tokyo and couldn't find a skirt that fitted in Thailand so I realise the frustration, but it's not their fault.

15 February - Valentines & Blunders

Valentine’s massacres, I wonder how many today. Mine was splendid and well worth the anticipation, but I wonder how many casualties. I started a blog once, called The Daily Flirt. In it, I meant to give cheeky advice to men in need. A sort of Debretts for dating and so on, or at least as funny as that letters page/column in the Sunday Times. Of course it fell by the wayside like many of my other half arsed light bulb ideas. But I’ve always thought that if in doubt ABOUT ANYTHING you should ask. Someone, somewhere has the answer you seek. Problems may arise if you don’t have any doubts and therefore don’t ask but…. I always think it’s silly to read in the papers in those days preceding Valentine, all those words of advice but there clearly is a need. Let’s repeat it one more time: if you have a girlfriend, flowers and chocs are the defaults. So is dinner at home or out (personally I don’t do out). You either do it all or say you don’t believe in it and save yourself the hassle and here is why I offer two cautionary tales.

One man bought her 'only' flowes. He had gone to Harvey Nicks and picked up some roses only to be told at the till that that would come to £90. He correctly said 'You must be joking!' and left them. Am not sure what other flowers he picked up and yes, his girlfriend has everything but... for the avoidance of future doubts, flowers, like chocolate, are the default gift - am I repeating myself? - and should not be the only gift as this denotes lack of imagination. So are books actually, fine at other times, not at Valentine unless a first edition of a much sought after tome. This man is currently not busy working (and not income-less) so he had more time than most to scout around for something a bit more meaningful. If you want to play this game, play it well.

Which is what the other man did ... except... He bought expensive food/sushi in a city where it's hard to find. Expensive champagne and wine. Flowers ... and an ipod. Understandably he threw a chair at the wall when his girlfriend said, at the end of the meal 'So, darling, where did you hid my shinly little rock?' He felt he had done enough but... he didn't consider the following: he's a foodie and his girlfriend knows that the feast was for himself as much as for her and that the fact he'd spent so much on it was irrelevant when he failed to get her what she's been asking for and not got in three years ie. a shiny token of affection. A tiny sparkler, that's what she wanted, not an ipod which incidentally is the same thing she got him for Christmas. For this girl, a daisy and a pizza would have been enough in terms of default gift and the rest better invested at the jewellery shop.

I am not telling you here what these women bougth for their men. For once am not interested in a balanced view, just want to remind men that it's a minefield out there as these two are hardly oiks who don't know what to do but you can still get it wrong. A quick call to the Daily Flirt in person would have saved lots of tears and recriminations.
TBC sorry am busy but will continue at some point. TBC