Wednesday, 5 December 2012

The news (no, there is none)

1. Grooming news

I had the birthday stain removed from my tooth yesterday, so I am basically winning at this year and no longer need to do anything, yes? Admittedly, it has had the usual domino toppling effect and now I have to go back and have something else done and the whole operation will doubtless cost me hundreds of euros I do not have. But. At least I can (i) leave the house and (ii) open my mouth in public. I will take this puny win, thank you.

The dentist is awful though, isn't it. Even when it's not actively, hurtily, awful and frightening, there is not a scrap of dignity to it, lying there having your drool sucked up by a tube as a nice young lady scrapes at your tooth filth with a high tech hook. I felt like a mangy rescue donkey having its giant yellow molars filed. Someone needs to invent an alternative to teeth, and fast.

Other sartorial issues currently pressing:

(i) No waterproof footwear apart from wellington boots. Resorted to patent Marc Jacob flats with glittery stars on for lunatics and primary school children at birthday parties yesterday (not a great look for an adult-shading-into-crone). Bastarding Top Shop have sent my boots by, I can only surmise, flightless pigeon, since it has been three weeks since I ordered them and still there is no sign.
(ii) Facial leprosy improved but ongoing. I had to resort to BURNS CREAM as suggested by someone in the comments.
(iii) No trousers that are decent and of an appropriate size.
(iv) Angry red infected eyelash follicle, which is pretty fucking ironic when you do not HAVE any eyelashes.

Solutions: none. Not getting dressed or leaving the house works most of the time, but it means that when you do go out, the problem is a million times more acute.

2. Cultural News

Further details emerge, slowly, tantalisingly, of F's 20 December opera extravaganza. There will be a scene featuring a dead Verdi (a much coveted role, I am given to understand) ascending a pile of Pompeii victims. F has several minor roles, including "Pompeii ash victim" ("How does one costume a Pompeii victim?" my friend E mused. "'Here, wear this sand cloak. Try not to move'") and my particular favourite, 'anvil'. This is well up there with all our nativity disappointments, isn't it (this, incidentally, is a good compilation of bitter Nativity stories. I have a great deal of long-cherished bitterness about being passed over various times in the school Nativity play and it was a cathartic read)? F doesn't seem to mind. He will be the very best anvil that has ever been. He will be vibrating with great musicality.

He has just filled me in on the very interesting introductory song, which includes a section that goes:

Verdi aimait beaucoup les femmes 
Mais les gens n'appréciaient pas
Que Giuseppina et Teresa
Habitait sous le même toit. 

Verdi loved women
But people did not approve
Of Giuseppina and Teresa
Living under the same roof.

I am febrile with excitement about the whole business.

3. Rage news

Having attempted to get ahead with my Christmas preparation with the assistance of online retailers I am being crushed from all directions for my naivety and hubris. My aforementioned Topshop boots have vanished without trace into the ether somewhere between whatever sweatshop they are made in and Uccle. Topshop customer service is predictably unmoved. Hawkin's Bazaar, normally one of my top three retailers (I am not sure what the others are - Lakeland? Betty's by Post? Yes, probably those), has totally failed to deliver me my splat frogs, bug eyed bugglies and classic joke range fake doog poo. Instead they have sent me a fucking DIABOLO, as if I were running a holiday camp for hippies. I am full of puny, foot stamping frustration. Then, to add insult to injury, I tried to track my Amazon parcel and discovered that my long overdue Hex Bugs (a sort of jolly, low-fi robotic insect) have been in Charleroi for the past five days. Five days! What the fuck are they doing in Charleroi? I've never managed to spend more than three hours there.

"They are breeding in that package, you realise" someone said. "By the time they deliver it there will be THOUSANDS of them writhing away in there"

"They have taken over the airport" someone else suggested, which would indeed be a vast improvement on Ryanair. "A swarm of them has carried Michael O'Leary off to their lair".

Which at least gave me a laugh. What a vision. Hex Bug Air would be an interesting take on aviation, I feel, going round in round in circles really fast without any discernible purpose and occasionally falling over.

I must go now, because I am behind on seventy eight types of thing, including grudgingly dumping a handful of sweets and a tangerine in the children's slippers to celebrate Saint Sinisterklaas and his horrible festival of fear and leaving realistically equine bite marks in the carrots left for his donkey, this at least, I am amply qualified to do (see 1, above).

What are your main sartorial issues currently? And which online retailer do you currently hate with the heat of a thousand suns (other rage triggers are also acceptable)?


Anonymous said...

1) general failure (now that I'm working at home, it's subzero outside, and I have to do yoga every day) to wear anything other than nasty old tracksuit bottoms over leggings plus thermals, bobbly fleeces, etc. Also not had haircut for nearly 3 months and wearing my unflattering old specs as they are lighter than my funky ones. The greyhound is better turned out than me. (If you are still searching for the wimpet, try and the shop at
2) I was going to say American Apparel, for promising me a big discount if I signed up for their email newsletter, then sending me constant email newsletters but no discount code. And not replying to the 4 or 5 emails I sent asking for the discount code. BUT, then again, they've saved me from having any more nasty old trackie bottoms a few years from now.
Hope your boots have arrived.

Scunder said...

I have just run screaming from the dental hygienist ( open late week nights for your personal discomfort) where I was verbally berated for my penchant for sparkling water, which is the devil allegedly and I may as well just be gnawing sugar shards. ( rahhh!)
Back to the house where a pile of ' we tried to deliver your parcel' ( uniqlo/ eBay / John Lewis ) cards lay damply below the letterbox .
My amazon parcel is currently languishing in a warehouse in carrickfergus - status:
Possible delay in delivery due to extra carrier processing
What the actual fuck?
Clearly require Verdi pronto... Care to join me?

Scunder said...

And I have a boil on my chin.

Margaret said...

1. Three years ago I was scared straight into thorough daily flossing by a delicate flower of a hygienist who savaged my gums for a solid 90 minutes. Every time I think about skipping the floss, I can see her sweet face leaning over me with her instruments of torture.

2. Sartorially, I'm all frizzy split ends and can't fit into anything stylish. I go to work at my super-fancy magazine every day looking like a suburban mom on a day trip to the big city.

3. Last week, my Sephora package was languishing in Maspeth. This was the online tracking message: "Due to local operation disruption, packages not unloaded from trailer, expect a one day business delay." So, what you are telling me is that because some fucking TEAMSTER in fucking QUEENS forgot to unload the truck, I have to wait another day for my Bliss 24 Heaven body cream. Do you understand the condition of my elbows? I am a dried-out, dessicated husk. Seriously, Sephora, you need to start cracking the whip on UPS, like Amazon does.

Anonymous said...

Teeth! Well I looked after my teeth so well that I got told off for scrubbing too hard and now my receding gums won't grow back. Flossing is a better idea. Also a big back tooth crumbled away, so I now have a big gold back tooth, and no money for Christmas of any extent. Oh well - blingy tooth for Christmas! At least it doesn't hurt now.
Heather (NZ)

mountainear said...

Interesting article in the Times a couple of weeks ago where the writer followed a dental care regime which makes traditional flossing and visits to the hygienist redundant. Sounds like my kind of regime. It's based largely on mouth washes and eating Xylitol sugar and gum. Best link I can find is

Patience_Crabstick said...

Wow, I'm all in favor of a regimen that will make the dentist obsolete.

My sartorial crisis is that all my clothes suck. And I have nothing to wear to my husband's work Christmas party tomorrow.

Awful online retailer? Sundance. The catalog oozes smug and entitlement, the prices are ridiculous, and once, when I foolishly ordered a pair of boots from them, they sent me the wrong size and it took them something like five months to process my return. If zappos can do it in three days, there's no excuse for anybody else.

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