bag it up

you know those fashionista pictures, the kind you see on pinterest, supposedly taken randomly on some street corner? the woman is wearing some fabulously chic or quirky outfit, uber stylish, with super-high gladiator heels or the spikiest stilettos that could be mistaken for a skewer at a barbeque. she’s posing just so, her legs crossed at her immaculately skinny ankles, either texting on her cell or she’s holding a “bag” that seems to be a cigarette box or a sunglass case.

Pinned ImagePinned ImagePoppy Delevingne in Jonathan SaundersPinned Image

and i look at these pictures and the part of me that isn’t envy-green that i am not the owner of such perfectly long, never-seen-the-inside-of-a-gym-shapely legs, is asking, who the f*ck ARE you? what kind of life do you lead that allows you to go anywhere, carrying only the equivalent of a pack of chewing gum? which real woman goes anywhere without a tote the size of an army back-pack filled with countless just-in-case items that are never needed till the day they’re left behind? i don’t even have kids, but i carry a shoulder-bag that, i swear, weighs 10 kilos! ok, make that 10 pounds, but still! even my wallet is bigger than the tiny little clutches these women have in their perfectly manicured hands – hands which have never been in a kitchen sink.

makes me think that there has to be a PA just left of the carefully-framed picture, bent double under a calamity of cases, waiting to be summoned at the wave of a beautifully baceleted wrist.

has to be. how else?

at least you won’t easily convince me otherwise!

all pictures taken from pinterest

quick bytes…

in keeping with the TMI theme and seeing that i haven’t yet finished the posts i’m working on, here’s something i lifted off jared orlin’s blog, adventures in entertainment. he also happens to be entertainment editor for you magazine.

these were my answers to his Celebrity Quick Bytes feature.

Q: You’re auditioning for Idols. What song would you choose?

A: I make an ass of myself often enough. Why would I want to subject myself to ridicule on Idols as well?!!

Q: If you were competing in an all-celebrity version of Strictly Come Dancing who would you pick as your dance partner?

A: HHP, because we’d win! Obviously!

Q: What politician would you date?

A: Our president of course. I could be his 6th wife and we could take a shower together. See-ree-arse!!!

Q: What’s your feeling on 2012? Do you think the world will *really* come to an end?

A: Depends on whose end…ba-dum-pum! Ok, that’s an American joke. “Depends”. Depends? Geddit?! [Depend (noun) – an adult diaper, basically – Ed.]

Q: Your belly button – is it an innie or an outie?

A: I’m bio-engineered.

Q: Do you like your toes?

A: We have a very good relationship, Actually. it’s a fine balance…

Q: What’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever eaten?

A: Sorry, I don’t eat and tell. Oops, was that my outside voice?!

Q: If a genie gave you three wishes, what would they be?

A: Easy! Wish #1: an infinite supply of wishes. Done and dusted. Next!

Q: If you had the power to annihilate all recordings of one song, what would it be?

A: De La Ray of Light.

Q: Comedy time: tell us your favourite joke or one-liner…

A: Two nuns walk into a bra, uhmn, I mean bar…

a fishy tale

L and i have a conversation about perfect pitch. he has it, in that he can immediately hear if someone’s off key, even if only a little (which is what prompts the conversation). surprisingly though, he really is not a good singer. but he’s great at tuning my guitar, he says. 

ok, for the record, though i learnt to play guitar when i was about 16 (not great, but functional enough to be able to accompany myself and write my songs), i  STILL cannot tune a guitar. and though L might have perfect pitch and likes tuning my guitar, i still prefer to use a tuner. that way i’m sure it’s the same every time. so i say, “sorry to inform you, but nothing comes between me and my tuner”.

he looks at me as if offended and i impetuously add, “well you know, it all depends on whether it’s spelled t-u-n-e-r  or  t-u-n-a…”. he looks baffled for a moment, but when i reach for a pen and draw him this graphic on a table napkin to illustrate,

table napkin doodle

 he guffaws.