You're supposed to write for the sheer, unadulterated love of the written word!
And I do.
Occasionally though, one or two things that I might buy if I were JK Rowling flit into my head. Only for a moment - then I mentally push them aside and get back to struggling in my garret.
This is my wish list...
A real silk dressing gown.
(To be pronounced in the tone of the prince in the Princess and the Pea, when he wanted a real princess.)
When I was a teenager I bought a 100% silk dressing gown from a second-hand shop. It was claret coloured paisley silk with black facings (I think they're called facings - collar, cuffs, belt etc.) It was very well-worn - which makes me feel slightly squeamish now. At the back, the seat of the dressing gown had been worn semi-transparent and the sleeves were peppered with cigarette burns (admittedly some of those were probably mine - I was a teenager after all!)
It made me feel slinky, seductive and sophisticated in a way that babydoll nighties from Dorothy Perkins simply didn't. I lounged in it. I was a lounge lizard. I was practically Noel Coward.
Women's silk dressing gowns are not the same at all. They're too shiny and bridal - and only seem to come in shades of oyster or palest pink. How could anyone pretend to be Noel Coward in one of those?
|Bertie Wooster - whose every garment is too fabulous for words.|
|Whatsisname from Downton Abbey. Why do men get all the best dressing gowns?|
|Tom Ford looking pretty damn pleased with himself. Well, so would I if I had a dressing gown like his!|
I love sequins. But not being Paris Hilton, I never have occasion to wear sequinned dresses. And no, I would not be happy with a seqinned corsage or a pretty cardi with a sequinned hem. I do not yearn for sequins in moderation. If I had pots of money I would buy an entire dress rail of sequinned dresses and skirts. I would have blue ones and mauve ones, white ones and black ones - and lots of other colours in between. I would add one or two touches of chiffon or ostrich feathers for extra beauty, then I would position this clothes rail right by the window so that every time the sun shone in my seqinned dresses would create much the same effect as a multi-coloured mirrorball.
Officially for my children - but I could sneak in while they're at school!
We have a small plastic house at the end of our garden, but it is dark and dampish and full of snails and spiders. It is far from being the secret den that I hoped it would be. In fact it's an eyesore.
I would like to commission a carpenter to build us a small wooden house with glass windows and a brass knocker on the door. There would be curtains and rugs and comfy cushions. It would have a slide or a fireman's pole or a zip-wire. And the boys could keep their treasured possessions inside it without them going all mouldy and mildewed!
|This reminds me of the Berenstain Bears' house!|
|Children in books - from Horrid Henry to Biff, Chip and Kipper - always have their own den in a tree house.|
|Surely this one must be Cath Kidson's own personal tree house!|
|I wonder if I could persuade a carpenter to also build us the necessary tree...?|
My glasses are pretty much of a non-style because I have to wear them every day. If I could afford to, I would co-ordinate my glasses with my outfits. Somedays I would choose owlish, studenty glasses, other days I would go for shiny silver secretarial specs which I'd wear with a pencil skirt and a pussycat bow. And the same goes for prescription sunglasses - I'd like cool, reflective aviators, retro wayfarers and huge, mysterious Jackie O's.
I went to see one of Pulp's reunion gigs at Brixton Academy in September - and ever since then I've been hankering after a bit more Geek Chic. Fine if it's only a tank top, but Jarvis Cocker glasses are expensive and I might not be in a geeky mood every day from now on!
Especially if I'm already wearing my sequinned skirt and my real silk dressing gown!
|Waiting excitedly for the King of the Geeks to appear.|
|Some Common People...|
I'll get back to it tomorrow xx