Numbers 12 - 14 of 357 things that annoy me

Misuse of word 'tapas'

This is driving me crazy.

I get excited everytime a new 'Tapas Bar' sign comes up as my favourite food is tapas but invariably upon perusing the menu I discover it is not at all a tapas restaurant, just an establishment owned by a restauranteur with no respect for his product or own integrity. Normally you find dishes such as 'bowl of olives with herbs' alongside 'foccacia bread and hummous'.



This Friday was the worst instance of misrepresentation I have thus far come across. Under a huge 'NEW TAPAS BAR' sign, came a short list of example dishes...



'Lattes, croissant, panini'



For FUCK'S sake. No even at a STRETCH could you claim it to be tapas.

Women with large prams



Like this one.




It's entirely, unnecessarily large. It's about five or six times as big as its inhabitant. It's my belief this trend of oversized prams stems from the same place that the urge to buy a Porsche four by four does. Which I also have no truck with.


It's not necessary to cosset a baby in a truck or drive one unless you are moving large mounds of earth.

It's an extension of our label-obsessed culture, conspicious-consumption society and its entirely selfish. You can't MOVE down the street for the things. And to add salt to the wounds.. mothers inevitably get cross and make some snidey remark at other pedestrians for getting in THEIR way!!


A particular question posed by a waitress at Negresco restaurant this Saturday


It was the inaugural 'Hen night without a hen' and my chosen restaurant was the fantastically decorated Negresco... chosen because the decor matched with my latest corset purchase :))))))

Fortunately the food was excellent so I wasn't berated for my ridiculous basis for choosing.


An excellent restaurant in all respects with the exception of the fact the waitress asked Meghna, who had ordered swordfish, 'How would you like that done?'


Meghna... after an understandable period of perplexedness responded haltingly, 'Medium??'.

Someone needs to take the nice waitress in hand.


And now, lest you harbour the erroneous belief I am only filled with conniption ( :)))) ) I shall detail those things which have pleased me of late.


The women with the sling


Today, I travelled back from Manchester and was gladdened in my heart to see a sensible lady hoiking her infant around in a sling. It wasn't even a specifically-designed baby sling. It was just a large rug-type affair she has wrapped around her allowing her to strap the infant on her back, thus enabling her to move with minimum intrusion throughout the public highways of the City of Manchester.




My inability to network


This should perhaps come under the banner of 'things that annoy' me but the latest exemplification of my ineptness in this corporate skill made a colleague and I laugh so it has to come here.


Usually finding it difficult to engage on an acceptably 'corporate-level' I dread attending networking events and the trauma of honing in on a suitable topic of convrsation I can genuinely enjoy engaging in (I think this is my downfall - I think you aren't meant to enjoy it, only PRETEND you do... I'm pretty awful at 'pretending' too though, so even that realisation doesn't help matters.) UNusually, I came across someone who I did have an interesting conversation with. A young psychotherapist specialising in existential psychotherapy.


So we had a nice chat about Camus and Sartre (and of course Freud - you just HAVE to) and how their ideas are applied in a psychotherapeutic way.


Upon exiting the networking event, I spotted the therapist so went over, tapped him on his shoulder, told him I was leaving and that it was nice to meet him and good luck in his latest endeavours (was setting up a business of his own) I left feeling especially pleaseed with myself at how smooth I had been, not only in engaging a 'colleague' for half an hour pleasantly but also being so careful as to 'finish' the network professionally.


I turned to note to my friend/colleague Claire, who had accompanied me as I said my professional farewell, that the therapist had looked strangely at me when I went to say goodbye and pondered on why this could be. Claire indulgently explained that my networking efforts were much noted but that perhaps next time, I should make sure I said goodbye to the same man I had been taking to in the first place, and not some random stranger who didn't know me from Adam.


Much unprofessional giggling ensued.

A wordy website

Drawn to my attention by a fellow linguaphile:

http://www.worldwidewords.org/weirdwords/

Isobel Faye Higgs

My new little cousin. And I'm so PLEASED it's a girl! MORE girls in the family! Whooo-hooo!

The Lost Myth of the Venus-child

Dear Imogen,

You speak of the delicious Mr Depp.

Perhaps I should recount a little known myth that it is imperative your classics students become familiar with. I cannot reveal from which source I came to know of this myth..... only that it is true, and if it not be so, may the knarled hand of The Fates cut short the very string of my too, too sullied life and send me winging to the very bowels of dark Hades........

As the end of the Golden Age of the Gods approached, all-mighty Zeus, tiring of the jealous ways of his wife-sister Hera, bid Aphrodite, goddess of love and beauty, to fashion a mortal male from the very core of her ambrosia-being. This mortal male, so delightful in looks and in radiant beauty, would serve to enchant the eye of Hera, turning her watchful gaze away from the adulterous mischief of her all-powerful and salacious husband. In return for her efforts, Zeus promised to free Aphrodite from her bond to lame-footed Hephaestos, and to unite her for all eternity with her true love, the war-like Ares.

Aphrodite, unable to resist such an offer, left Mount Olympus alone, leaving even her favourite behind, the light-winged Eros, to seek peaceful and concentrated refuge on the Island of Cyprus, which island she was fond of more than any other place on mankind's earth. There she began her work in creating a male more beautiful than even that most beautiful of all mortal beings, Helen of Troy.

So consummed with her work did Aphrodite become, that she failed to hear the call of Zeus for the gods and goddesses of his realm to leave Mount Olympus and to abandon mortal men and women to their fate forever.

Aphrodite, alone in the world, continued to work as if in a timeless trance, as she fashioned her most sublime personification of her nature. More inspiration and thought had Aphrodite never before bestowed into one single task. Her spirit and mind was absorbed for centuries with the perfection of her incandescant male. All her essence of being was poured forth over these long years, ensuring that Aphrodite's child-of-mind would be forever filled with the very quintessence of empyrean beauty.

In the year 1963, Aphrodite's work was finally complete. The sublime mortal man was ready for unveiling to mankind and to the now-vanished eye of Hera.

Her creation was sent forth from the Island of Cyprus to the unlikely town of Owensboro, Kentucky, his care being charged to a simple-born man and woman.

The god-child grew into his fated beauteous form as simply as a leaf swirls in the gentle breath of restless Eurus.

And now, though the time of the Gods has passed, men and women of the mortal kingdom can still recall the supreme power over beauty of this most lovely of all goddesses, by gazing upon the pinnacle of male exquisiteness that is Aphrodite's swan-song, Mr Johnny Depp.

'Twenty questions' (or at least some of them)

I haven’t written a list in a while and given that I bored to an extent previously unknown to man, woman or sentient being, I shall fill my final forty-five minutes in the office ‘listing’.

What to list though…..

I am creating some lists at work at the moment actually, based upon the personalities of our team. Our team has just doubled in size and as the ‘Initiator for the creation of team joy, unity and a happy, inspirational work-place’ I have decided to create a booklet for new starters and trainees etc that will give them an alternative introduction to the team… beyond the usual age, extension number and work history crap you normally get.

I’ve basically presented the team with my favourite ‘twenty questions’ list that I like to bark at strangers who accost me in bars, in place of normal conversation.

Anyways, I suppose I could recount the list that staff members are currently filling in – not with their responses of course. That would be unusually indiscreet even for me. No. I could, for my own amusement, fill them in myself. This prospect equally bores me though. I know my answers already and could recount them in my sleep.

OR, in fact, I could list my already installed Eclectic Initiatives to Personalise the Office, Create Staff Unity and Harbour Laughter and a Lightness of Soul never before experienced in a corporate law department ….and develop more. THEN I am, whilst blogging, also working! No guilt here then.

Just let me turn on my ‘Non-chargeable’ clock… this is clearly ‘New product development’….

On second thoughts. So good are these inspired ideas, they would clearly be stolen by the raft of rival law-firm fee earners who daily visit the spaghetti junction that is my blog. I cannot let this be.

Additionally, Roll On Friday have recently been spying into the affairs of close Manchester colleagues of mine and I am aware of the insiduous gaze of the legal profession into areas you never expect them to intrude or discover.

Crapola.

OK, in no particular order:

Ideal three dinner party invites:
Bill Clinton, Johnny Depp, Alan Bennett

What other job would you most like to do:
Zoologist at the Virunga Mountain Research Facility

What did your school report typically say about you:
Natalie needs to put as much effort into her written work as she dos into her oral work

If you were a jungle animal what would you be?
A bonobo

Which literary creation do you most identify with/would most like to be like:

Scarlett O’Hara OF COURSE!!! – for COUNTLESS reasons. She was independent, headstrong, passionate, ground-breaking (for clarification here – she was a female from the deep south in 19 century who owned and ran her own businesses, created a cotton plantation, physically defended her own territory and negotiated with the enemy at a high level of authority to protect her own family – not of this was ‘acceptable’ for a mere woman at the time) authoritative and intelligent. ‘Tis a height sincerely to be aspired to.

If you could have one super power what would it be:

See Super power blog below.
That, or immortality.
Saying that - I recently came across a beautiful but fated idea somewhere recently that I can’t identify in my memory. Something is saying in Jack Nicholson and Morgan Freeman’s latest film that I recently went to see (In place of Johnny Depp!!!!! THATS how much I love Morgan's voice) but I’m sure it’s not that. Anyway, the idea was: Would people accept immortalty if offered? To prompt consideration, this story was told……A woman was offered a vial of liquid that would make her immortal. She decided she would accept immortality, but she only drank half - saving the rest for her future lover that she immediately embarked on a search to find. She realised immortality alone was no fun and so her key to beating the immortality Achilles’ heel was to find the person she could spend the rest of her life with and give them the potion. Unfortunately, so important did finding the right man become, that as time passed, it became more and more impossible to find the person worthy of the immortal liquid. After all, this would be the only person to could exist in eternity with. After the passing of centuries of disappointment and finding all men lacking to her ideal, she began to view all men as failures and resigned herself to a life of lonely immortality.
‘Tis the age-old vampire problem. Part of what adds to their romantic stature I guess. (Poor Lestat….)

What colour best represents you:

Yellow – loud, happy but sometimes overwhelming…..
‘Tis also the colour of the mighty leo Lion.

Would you rather have a face for a bum or a bum for a face:

Face for a bum. :)That cracks me up every time. Surely NO-ONE says ‘bum for a face', though’???

Lose a leg or lose an arm:

Leg definitely. You can cover up the leg and leg prosthetics are developed enough to mostly replace the natural leg function. Not so with an arm as the hand and fingers are so dextrous and complex and technology hasn’t advanced to replicate this yet.
(Also – you could get one of those legs the Olympic runner has that is made of sprung steel or something that means you can bounce along the road at high speed.)

If you could one one of the four major talents; Musical ability, Literary ability, Artistic ability
Mental ability, which would it be:

Musical ability. "I think music can express subtleties that neither literary nor visual artistic endeavours can."

If you could save one item from your burning house, what would it be?

My Victorian pearl and ruby lavaliere. That sounds odd as it is jewellery based and I am not a jewellery fan – not real ‘gems’ anyway. I find real gems gauche, for one – I am not someone who would be delighted by the presentation of a diamond necklace for example. Gems/modern jewellery are a minefield of ethical implications so it is best just to stay away – it’s not like I’m missing out on much either, a small bead of glass looks just like a diamond – why does it HAVE to be a diamond? It’s only social snobbery/vanity that distinguishes one from the other.

No. The reason why is 1. Because I do have objections to jewellry, being ‘second-hand’ it’s the few/one piece of ‘real’ jewellry I am happy to wear. 2. It was my Grandma's and is the only item of hers I have. 3. I have another sentimental attachment to it beyond it being my Grandma’s – my sister wore it for her wedding and I was soooo touched by this. I know I shouldn’t take it personally – lavalieres are beautiful (and no longer made really – it was the Victorians and Edwardians primarily who loved them and they went out of fashion with them. Lord knows why.) so of course she should want to wear it. It was a perfect fit with her dress too. But I was still chuffed knowing Caroline was walking down the aisle having chosen to wear, of all pieces of jewellery, my favourite. (it was of course her something borrowed and something old)

What would be the best aspect of being a member of the opposite sex?

Childhood games. Boys games are sooo much better than girls. Cowboys and Indians, tree-houses, camping, digging for treasure/insects. They are all also all more out-doorsey than girls. They have adventure at their heart too.

OK. The class-room bell has rung and I am free.

Disclaimer:
Any reference to time zones or physical location at the time of writing (“the Time”) is purely fictitious and should not be viewed as a genuine reflection of the writer’s actual status at the Time.

It Is Like It Ought To Be - A Pastoral

I recently attended THE MOST BIZARRE theatre experience I have ever been 'exposed' to.

I don't even know how to explain what I witnessed for seventy minutes.

Probably best is just to explain the rough sequence of events:

Upon entering the theatre, we were greeted by five actors in 19 century clothes, most playing folky-tunes on instruments (accordion, cello, violin/trumpet... yes, it was violin-trumpet COMBINED.. I didn't understand it looking at it and still don't) who stopped playing every so often to hand out glasses of cider...and to invite us..... to apple bob.

Several people apple bobbed with the help of the cast. (remarkably - mostly women with full faces of makeup and freshly coiffed hair - fair play) Then, volunteers having dwindled, one of the two actresses began to bob herself, with much fanfare, because she could, we were told, fit TWO apples in her mouth at once.

And so she could.

On her final extraction from the bath of water, the actress exploded out of the bath and started SCREAMING, with no seeming reason, in 'tongues' or witch curses... or something. I couldn't really hear as I was too focused on the fact that her cast mate was now, head-locking her, and fully immersing her head in the bath water, before dragging her out - by her throat - to allow her to 'tongues' some more. Several times. Then he kind of flung her onto the floor, where she collapsed...apparently 'unconscious'.

She was then bound up, and the audience was ushered into their seats - by the remaining three actors - swishing branches and long twigs (!) through the air in front of us.... and shouting 'Move along! Move along!' :)))))))))

Then twenty minutes of poetry about living in the country, away from the city, creating your own 'society' hidden in a valley ensued.

Then twenty minutes of the actors interspersing playing their instruments with making FARM ANIMAL noises. They didn't just make the noises, they recorded their noises on little dictaphones... and then walked up and down the stage.... not saying A WORD, replaying the noises....for the ENTIRE twenty minutes...every so often, walking in and out of the audience seats, and playing the noises to the faces of the audience members.

So far, so surreal.

Then, one of the actor went into a suitcase, and proceeded to unload roughly thirty mechanical fluffy white rabbits, set them around the stage, and set them to hop around, blink their red-lit eyes, and make 'squeaky noises'.

This we watched for some ten minutes.

Just sat.... watching the hopping, squeaky rabbits.

Then, poetry again...a storm is coming.

Instruments out again - loud stormy music.

Two of the actors begin disrobing (the advert had said 'Not suitable for children: Contains nudity') the male disrober, produced a bowl of mud, and having revealed his sinewy frame in its entirity, rubbed mud over thia entire, and I mean ENTIRE, body.

He then, got down on his hands and knees, and crawled in a circle like a dog making a bed. :))))))))))))))))))))))))))))
Then he got up onto his hands and feet, and walked around the stage like a bear on all fours.

The female disrober at this point, had revealed her boobs, and was laid out on the floor, rubbing dried leaves all over her clothes and boobs. And rolling.

At some point she started madly eating apples... and spitting and dribbling the mulch from her mouth onto the floor.

I think the other actors were playing music and screaming at this point. I don't know. It was all very confusing for me. :))))))

Then, onto the stage walks a women covered in a long velvet black cloak. She stood on a podium and shouted some brutal, storm-related words. While her cast mates rolled in leaves spitting apples and walked around like naked, muddy bears. (The little rabbits were still going by the way).

Then, with a loud bang, everything stopped (the storm...was over....)

Veeeeeerrrrrry slowly, the cloaked woman turned around.... to reveal her face...which was...a horse's face.

It was very freaky. David Lynch would have been proud. It has given me much fodder for future nightmares.

Then they put their clothes back on... and proceeded to kill a fake horse. It was blugeoned to death. And left in the middle of the stage. The poor horse (previously billed as 'the love horse' that audience members had been invited to 'speak to ' and record messages of love into it... for the love horse also contained a magical dictaphone)

The little rabbits were then set on the fake horse... to 'eat it'.

Then, light folky music came back on.... and all quietly sat down on the stage, got out A KETTLE and made a cup of tea. And just sat quietly for some minutes.

We sat watching them drink tea.

Then they recited nice poetry about rivers and kissing.

And that was it.

They disappeared off stage, and came back on for their applause, wearing plastic animals masks. A hound dog, a pig, a sheep, a horse and an owl.

And that was it.

And I will end this blog in the same way I came out of my surreal theatre experience, with a ????????????????? :)))))))))))))))))))))))))))) ?????????????????????

“The latest show from Uninvited Guests is absolutely brilliant… this is a clever, engaging and tightly controlled show.” The Guardian

Am enjoying watching Masterchef at the moment, though the overly dramatic, 'Cooking DOESNT get much tougher than THIS' opener always makes me chuckle. It's a line more suited to bare knuckle fighting than the controlled application of olive oil to a non-stick pan.

I love cooking and am I suppose passionate about food, compared to some - I will go out of my way to visit a local store stocking good ingredients, can spend hours wandering around markets and delis and am blissfully happy with a complex recipe necessitating hours in the kitchen. Despite this, I do wonder about the unadulterated passion for food that some of the Masterchef contestants and presenters display. Food appears to literally rule their lives. Food is culture of course and deserves to be considered as an integral part of life's rich tapestry just like art and literature. But unlike the latter, food I don't believe can enrich the soul or challenge the mind so I find it somewhat baffling that some-one can devote their lives to the pursuit of the perfect hollandaise sauce and believe they have found nirvana - as Masterchef implies they do. Food is ancillary to life surely?

Anyway, some good food quotes below.

Being a cheese-lover, I can't agree more with GK Chesterton - though I doubt he was quite so sincere as I!

"The poets have been mysteriously silent on the subject of cheese." ~G.K. Chesterton

"Condensed milk is wonderful. I don't see how they can get a cow to sit down on those little cans." ~Fred Allen

"The most remarkable thing about my mother is that for thirty years she served the family nothing but leftovers. The original meal has never been found." ~Calvin Trillin

"If you ate pasta and antipasto, would you still be hungry?" ~Author Unknown

"Nothing will benefit human health and increase the chances for survival of life on Earth as much as the evolution to a vegetarian diet. " Albert Einstein

Japanese whaling

An Australian Custom ship has within the past few days captured emotive footage of whaling activities by Japanese hunters. Horrifically the photographs taken witness, for example, the piercing of an adult whale through its hump by the use of explosive harpoons, before the still-live and undoubtedly painracked whale is hoisted slowly through the air to bleed out the last of its life in fear and agony. Additional footage hints at a heartbreaking end to the peaceful lives of a mother and her calf.

Japan has used the International Whaling Convention's permissive measures relating to whaling in pursuit of 'scientific research' since the outset of the Convention's ratification. Since its creation in 1946 the International Whaling Commission has failed abysmally in its mandate to protect the stock of whales 'for future generations' - a mandate which in itself is based upon state self-interest, is entirely sterile and wholly theoretically imperfect.

The IWC has done little more than provide a permisive gloss to decades of slaughter of whales and stood by as to allow us to witness the systematic depletion of race of rightful inhabitants of our planet.

The IWC should be immediately and shamefully disbanded even were it not to be replaced by an equivalent, and hopefully more substantial organisation. If only to deny whaling nations such as Japan, Norway and Canada with the opportunity to legitimate their actions by reference to a fictitious provision that provides them with the outward conceit for the bloody murder of sentient creatures.

If you ever wanted to be Wonder Woman....

Because let’s face it, who didn’t? Her costume was FAR and away the best of all the super-heroines AND she was a feminist icon to boot (She hailed from Themyscira, an Amazonian island successfully run and inhabited solely by women… until a man came along and buggered it all up. For more on this fascinating history go to http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Themyscira)

Or as an alternative, what about my favourite, Scarlett O’Hara. Scarlett, or any other pre-20th century femme really who paraded an hour-glass figure, underskirts and a wasp-waist.

Yes, since my early says I have been fated to be an ardent lover of all things corsets for both Scarlett and Wonder-woman relied upon, firstly, a corset and, more often than not, ‘foundation wear’. ‘Foundation wear’ for the uninitiated is any undergarment incorporating bones, originally wood or whale bone, now steel. I’m talking corsets, corselettes, girdles, suspender belts and brassieres.

Now for me, these five items are the five pieces of armour (in both a literal AND metaphorical sense) essential in EVERY woman’s wardrobe.

We (the female ‘we’) all wear bras, of course (at least I hope we do. The 60s are over.) But, alas, the other four lapsed into obscurity in the latter half of the twentieth century. And, well, I am here to try to fix that.

It was once said by some nameless, impertinent man, that should I ever be in a position of power (above and beyond the innate power my Y-chromosome awarded me as my birth-right that is), my first decree would be that all women should wear corsets. And that nameless man was not far wrong.

Alas, I am in no such elevated position of power. Lamentable - yes and a fact that makes the world a poorer place for it, but no less true I am afraid. I am, however, through the art of narration and opinion-giving (aka. this blog) in a position to set forth a persuasive and informative argument to help usher in a re-visit to the by-gone days of foundation-wear.

So let the persuasion and information commence.

Let us first start with the best and most exciting of all the foundation wears… the hallowed corset.

My first ever corset, in the foolish days of my corset-nyophytry (yes, I made it up) was a PLASTIC-BONED!! under bust corset. As the name implies, the under bust corset starts under your bust. The under bust is not meant to be seen really, its purpose is to hug the waist and hips to create ‘the wasp waist’.

Under bust corset here:










Freakish unhealthy, not to be recommended at all, we don’t like it, oh no it gyps but you get the idea anyway, wasp waist here:













And who WOULDN’T want an extra teeny waist for some guy named Rhett to come and pick you up by and spin you around in a field of barley before collapsing laughingly into a heap of joy and romance. I know I can’t be alone?












So anyway……once you have your wasp-waist, you layer on your waist-loving clothes. Think 40s and 50s.

My favourite EVER waist-loving clothing item is the superlative ‘Wiggle-dress’. Marilyn Monroe, Bette Davis, Betty Page… all these ladies know the power of the wiggle. In fact, Marilyn was never OUT of a wiggle dress. Try finding a picture of her wearing anything else and it’s not easy. And that’s because it simply IS the best dress in the world. As you can see:




Now, to crash the dreams of men throughout the globe, Marilyn did not just pull on her wiggle dress and wiggle over a man-hole or two. Marilyn, like most women, was not born a perfect wiggler. To achieve the perfect wiggle, you need…. the cheeky girdle.

The cheeky girdle does for the hips what the corset does for the waist; it primes and curves it to perfection. The green girdle below is a perfect choice for a wiggle dress. It is high waisted so will tuck in your waist at the same time. For the perfect Marilyn wiggle get yourself a girdle.













Girdles are also a more theatrical alternative to suspender belts - they always come with snaps attached. A word of warning here, always look for a girdle with six snaps if you are planning on wearing seamed stockings. Without six snaps, your seam will travel halfway round your leg – numbers five and six keep it poker straight.


The corselette is a combo of three foundation wear pieces. Corset, bra and girdle. It usually comes with snaps attached a separate suspender belt (after all this glorious fancy under wear, you do NOT want to go and spoil the whole look with a pair of 40 denier opaque tights! Silky stockings are a must.) On this point, as a general rule, get rid of your tights. Stocking and suspenders/girdle or at minimum hold ups are FAR more attractive - ask ANY man - and more sensible... if you ladder one leg, you don't have to throw aay the whole caboodle, keep the remaining stocking andmary with another pair!)

In terms of sex appeal, however, the corset and/or girdle are miles ahead of the corselette:












No comparison really.

The corselette mostly comes with a bullet bra built in to it. The ‘bullet bra’ was around aeons before Madonna extended it’s peaks as the 50s was the true era of the bullet bra. Don’t ask me why they like pointy boobs in the 50s because I just don’t know. I just know they did…… strangely.

For 50s fashion and bullet bras by the way, you are looking at poodle skirts and cardigans. Herewith is a poodle skirt complete with poodle motif:











It couldn’t be any clearer than that now could it.

My first corset in fact was purchased to enhance this EXACT poodle dress:

















(Oh, and in case you wondered, you need a minimum ‘4 layer petticoat’ to get the sticky-out look. Petticoats have no bones….their purpose it to make you stick out not in.)

This is STILL my favourite wedding outfit so if anyone wants to get married, PLEASE invite me because I LOVE wearing it. And spinning in it on the dance floor………. preferably to the Jackson 5…….. but I digress.

So….we know the purpose of the under bust corset and girdle. How about the over bust corset? This is the one most people know and many will have some variant on in their wardrobe. (Probably, shock-horror, an un-boned or PLASTIC BONED version!!!) As you may have gathered, plastic boning is a no-no. Let’s just say plastic boning is to corsets what Bernard Matthews is to turkey…. Don’t go there……… Leave well-alone. A plastic boned corset will last all of two or three wears and the boning will have bent and misshapen already. A steel-boned corset well-looked after will last you your ENTIRE life. (Thus the reason I can justify my recent £350 expenditure on a single corset! :)) A steel-boned corset will also:

1. Force a perfect posture;
2. Prevent over eating;
3. Adjust to your natural shape over time;
4. Serve as a waist trainer should you want to train it. (Waist training is where you wear a corset for pretty much 24 hours a day for a substantial period resulting in a PERMANENT change to your waist size. It’s what the ladies in the 19 century did, including the freak-woman above, and how Dita Von Teese achieved her burlesque figure. Essentially the corset pushes your ribs up and inches your intestines (YES REALLY!) upwards, allowing your waist to move inwards. It also means you get to prance around in a corset like a queen all day!)

Over bust corsets come in many different shapes – you have amongst other, Edwardian, Victorian. I personally favour the late Victorian look (second of the following corsets):














The over bust will do one thing the under bust doesn’t. It will magnify your boobs and give you a cleavage to die for. It also looks FABULOUS, so you FEEL fabulous. If you think, a woman’s wedding dress is her piece-de-resistance. That’s when she feels her most magical. Almost ALL wedding dresses incorporate a corset, even the floaties. It’s my sincere belief that it is the corset that all women are enjoying here and, as that is the case, why limit it to one day in your life? Corsets can be worn for a multitude of occasions.

Word of warning. If you already have big boobs - stay away from an Edwardian/straight-cut corset. Go for late Victorian or combine a corset with a halter neck, otherwise your boobs will be coming out your ears…… and that’s never attractive.


One bonus practical note regarding corsets, you need a man (or a friend) on stand by for dressing. You preferably need a large, wooden, four poster bed and maybe a big woman called Mammy too. Then you go full out for the whole…..











look.

So that…… in brief…. (get it?) is foundation wear.
It is beautiful and feminine and sexy. For me, lingerie and makeup is one of the BEST bits of being a girl. If you miss out on the likes of corsets, you are missing out on part of the style and fun of being joyously female.

Some of my favourite online sellers of all things oldy-wordly underwear are the following:

Corset history:

http://www.antiquecorsetgallery.com/

Corsets:

http://www.cocu.co.uk/
http://www.ellecorsets.co.uk/

Girdles:

http://www.girdlebound.com/

50s/rockabilly/pinup fasion

http://www.daddyos.com/

God how depressing

that we are back at work

Also not happy about the fact my black cardigan is missing a button so gapes open to show my stomach area. What is the world coming to when something like that happens to a professional girl like me?

I thought when the new year started things would change.... what a foolish, naive dreamer was I.

'Tis only the same old same old.

I see I must keeps my wits sharp and my tongue sharper if I am to survive these forthcoming days and months.

Data Girl... saviour of data rooms everywhere

When I think of Jon Pickup I generally feel pretty sick.

As my old Classics classmate, I was sickened to my stomach by his superior vocabulary skills and plethora of natural talents. He is one of those annoying guys who seem to be able to do everything. He can draw, he can write, he can play and compose music, he is very intelligent and probably has read more books than me. To top it all off, during lessons, he had the audacity to, correctly, challenge my (mis)use of vocabulary.

Like I say, he makes me sick.

So…… the reason why I am here, talking about Jon, is that this guy holds the key to me achieving one of my '101 things to do before I die' (for the uninitiated - see http://natalieuninterrupted.blogspot.com/2007/11/101-things-to-do-before-i-die.html).

He could be that hero.

Back in the old days of Queen Elizabeth's Grammar School to where I once went, Jon was inspired by his sixth form Latin and Classics class chums, to create comic strips to chart the shenanigans of the classroom. One was based upon Star Trek and the other, James Bond (aptly titled James Blond after Max Wilde, the 'Sun-in' blonde school-boy who was to play the title role).

Jon, in his omniscience, mainly used me as his villain in these creations from what I recall. Apparently I had the requisite authoritarian nature to fill the roles. As the Blond villain my mandate was to rule the world with a social reform that consisted of banning all burping, spitting and farting, insisting upon all woman wearing corsets and dresses and enforcing the rule that men must open doors for women and pull out their chairs. (Fair enough I think.) In his 'The Agamemnon' parody, I took the role of Clytemnestra. In Jon's estimation, audience sympathy for Agamemnon was assured given that the hero of the Trojan war was forced to return to a loud-mouthed, dictatorial and nagging wife who felt she could rule Argos better than he. (She probably could.)

Anyway, despite taking on the role as Blond villainess in the comic strip, I was highly disappointed never to be caricatured by Jon. All you ever saw of my evil persona was the back of my head. (But what a pretty head it was)

Over ten years on, now has come the opportunity for Jon to revisit my role in the comic world by helping to create my comic-book alter ego. I would like him to draw me AS A SUPER HEROINE.

The initial inspiration for my super heroine alter ego is based upon a pseudonym I gave myself as work based upon the unseemly amount of disclosure and data room creation I do.

Need a data room creating faster than lightning?
Need your documents organising, identifying, titling and redacting with the speed of a bullet?
Want some more info on that pesky asbestos issue?
Fear not o'Partner…call Barbosa aka. DATA GIRL.

Yes, that's me. Data Girl. Only problem is, and this is a self-deception I have previously identified….. I am no longer a girl. I am… 'a woman'.

'Data Woman'. There was Superwoman and Wonder Woman so why not Data Woman?

Thing is, it just doesn't sit right. I don't like it. It's not snappy like 'Data Girl'. I thought about simply 'Data' in the kind of X-Men tradition of naming superheroes. Give them a single name - make them more approachable - the People's Superheroes. I like it - 'Data' - but there is of course a 'Data' in Star Trek and so that's a real problem. The name lack uniqueness and could be easily confused in the minds of sci-fi geeks.

And so I'm calling upon the plethora of readers of this blog to come up with alternative suggestions.

I'm not going to outline the full extent of my powers and persona here but in order to think of names, you'll need at least something to go on. So here it is:

DATA……Data is information. Information is knowledge. Knowledge is power. Knowledge is in books. Books should be read at lightning speed by a super reader. A super reader would be super-powerful from their super -intelligence. Super-intelligence at a super-speed….
Have an enemy who is a martial arts expert? Give Data Girl a raft of martial arts books to read at lightning speed and, hey presto, she knows every martial arts move ever written about.
Got a nasty, little complex bomb to deactivate? No problem. Data Girl has read every tome in the British Library on bombs. She knows how to dispose of it in the most efficient and effective way.
Need a war strategy? No problem. Data Girl knows the Art of War like the back of her hand.

You seeing it?

So there's the brief for Data Girl and her powers of the mind.

All name suggestions much appreciated.

IN THE NEXT EXCITING EPISODE OF DATA GIRL:
Data Girl…… Where did she come from? Who is her arch enemy? What are the full extent of Data Girl powers? What is her superhero costume? What be her weapons? Find out… same time, same place…

Three further

OK, so I could have deleted out three of my current 101, create a 104 list or just add them here.

Deletion of three would mean new additions may go unnoticed by my profusion of readers; I don't like the number 104...... so the new three will just get added here.

Be a gangster's wife.
Be an art thief.
Serve on an MI6 mission.