The Good Life is So Now

With To The Manor Born coming back to our screens last Christmas, it occurred to me that The Good Life couldn't be more ripe for a revival. Tom and Barbara are so now -- with their animal rearing, veggie-growing antics, they are an example to us all in sustainable living. It occurs to me that Tom, Barbara, Margot and Jerry are also fashion icons whose style wouldn't look amiss on the streets today.  That's why I've nicknamed the new jeans on my want list "Barbara": tight around the bottom and ever so slightly flared, they look like the sort of jean that Barbara would have chosen -- enhancing the pert derriere that so many teenage boys must have lusted after in Felicity Kendal's 1970's heydey.

With dreams like these...

"Dare to dream" is a motto I like the sound of... except that these days the calibre of my dreams is not exactly aspirational. Last night, for instance, I dreamt that the washing-up liquid had run out and I was outraged as I had only just bought a new bottle. Whatever happened to the sort of dreams I used to have when I woke up and grabbed a paper and pen, convinced I could write a novel based on the clever plot? I will have to address this lack of slumbering creativity tonight!

Facebook's facelift could iron out its quirks

The BBC reports that Facebook is unveiling a new de-cluttered look. Profile pages will be split into five pages to help syphon off some of the functions, games and quizzes away from the main page. Some say the redesign is like fixing something that ain't broke -- and it could be killing off the personality of a social networking phenomenon that has attracted millions of users.  I have to say I agree: isn't it at odds with the original concept to try to create a polished, commercial look? I've never been one for throwing sheep or killing zombies, but I think some of the fun of Facebook is how chaotic some of the profile pages have become.

The wedding hijackers are putting people off

A new survey says that the cost of weddings is putting folks off getting married.  This is quite a shame, as the dreaded "cost" is a case of the Emperor's new clothes.  People have been brainwashed to believe that nuptials can't take place unless decent amounts of wedge have been thrown at the rock (forget it if you don't spend a whole month's salary says a diamond specialist's press office), Hen and Stag extravaganzas (only several days abroad will suffice), the dress (bespoke dahlink), the flowers (enough to bring on a chorus of hayfeverish sneezing in the Church) and the honeymoon (this must be somewhere suitably exotic, exclusive and secluded (this extended time alone together must surely be a contributory factor to the divorce rate).  It is all tosh -- a wedding can be done cheaply if you're concerned with the act of getting married rather than the exhibitionism of The Big Day. But that's not to say that, if you have the reddies, a grand affair isn't a nice thing.

Top 10 useless things

Having lost its partner, I am left with a solitary butter-soft leather glove. I am resisting chucking it as it is beautiful. But it's also totally useless. Like everything listed here:

1. A single glove (or sock, or shoe)
   
2. A dress that's trapped in long gone fashion moment
3. A mobile phone rendered obsolete by an upgrade
4. An old passport revealing a best forgotten dodgy barnet
5. An entry in your address book for a person you no longer see
6. A bottle of Metaxa bought on your Greek holiday in '95
7. Nail varnish in any time sensitive colour 
8. Photos of you and an ex you'd rather forget
9. An old employment contract
10. Old birthday/Christmas cards 

A sucker for memorabilia, I've kept things like these, excusing my chronic hoarding with the argument that they have historical value. But it's time for a clear-out: Farewell gorgeous glove, adios '80's frock, bye-bye black nail varnish!

What happened to the age of innocence?

Tie-flicking, Chinese burns, wedgies: play-fighting has always been a part of growing up. But now playground combat is spilling over into the streets, mutating into a murderous blood sport. Kids are being killed for being caught up in gangs and for refusing to fight. Young men are being knifed to death in broad daylight. In a society that has no fear of the police, that knows the nearest bobby is probably miles away, kids are out of control, fuelled by anger and hatred beyond their years. I'd like to keep my boy innocent for as long as possible, so that childhood can be childhood, with a bit of healthy scrapping and the odd black eye. 

Sticking to a career goal

My career has three eras to date.  The first, after university, was a stint in retail.  Bizarre to think of the days when I served Ringo Starr in Prada.  And nearly fell into a rail of posh garms when Robbie Williams strutted through the door.  Then came my PR phase... highlights include hurtling across Kingsway in Holborn with a giant turkey trying to get it cooked for a Christmas press show.  And serving cocktails at the Hilton's Windows bar, where we hosted a party for Jasper Conran. Now, after a second university sentence, I am reborn as a writer, penning words for magazines and commercial clients.  I'm still on the PR grapevine and happy to write PR stuff like press releases. It takes a steely will not to get roped back into being a fully-fledged PR -- in that field, money doesn't exactly grow on trees, but it is certainly easier to come by.  But I'm staying focused -- a lot of sweat has gone into getting where I am and getting sidetracked could cost me more than dollar.

After The Weather

Looking a bit dreary outside.  I will amuse myself today by noting how many people refuse to take on board that the weather has reverted to normal:  marching through puddles in flip-flops isn't a good look. There are a lot of folks on this isle who believe a bout of good weather is worth celebrating long after the sun stops shining -- after two days of mud-splattered legs and goose bumps, they recover their senses.

The Weather

For days, it's been sunny with perfect blue skies.  The glorious weather has sent the nation into shock:  I've seen bikinis in the park and overheard many excited conversations where twittering about the weather has been the central theme.  Coming back from Miami where the sun shining is virtually a given, it's quite refreshing to return to a nation beside itself with glee over a few rays.  We are lucky that the sunshine has such a power to lift our spirits. 

That's what I'm talking about!

Not to get too obsessed with The Apprentice, but I did have two weeks off so I've got a bit of catching up to do... Last night's episode was what it's all about: two sackings and a brutal dressing down for a whole team of incompetents.  Hurrah!  And praise be for Lee McQueen for his commitment to pure entertainment:  Rooster impersonations, repetitive and flamboyant use of the phrase, "that's what I'm talking about!" and hilarious overstatement of this own opinion:  "I, Lee McQueen, am concerned."  Comedy gold.

First words of many

My little boy has just started to speak.  So far, his vocabulary includes "mummy", "daddy" and various Russian sounding words.  These first words amaze me -- they are precious because our boy is growing up and learning about language and communicating, but also because they are the first of many that he will utter in his life.  And who knows where his power of speech will take him: he could be a great orator, a diplomat, a spokesperson for something he believes in -- or simply a great friend to his mates that always has the right words to say at the right moment.  I hope he learns to enjoy language and use it well -- it's a strong ally to have on your side throughout life.