My Recent Musings…

Does anyone still eat ‘Salad Cream’? 

Or has it fallen foul of ‘food-evolution’ along with Spam, Marrow-fat peas and the iconic Artic Roll?  Is it wrong that I feel horribly nostalgic about the demise of all these larder staples and am I perhaps hankering after another era? The days I would go to my friend’s for ‘tea’ before Brownies and we’d have cucumber sandwiches on white bread spread liberally with cheap margarine and an indulgent ‘slosh’ of Salad Cream.  For ‘afters’ there would usually be an inch of Swiss Roll; chocolate flavour if you were lucky.  Unless her Mother had made some ‘Rock Cakes’; not so lucky, all washed down with orange squash afterwhich we’d troop up the road like a pair of  nob heads.  Brown Owl was fat; standard.  Tawny; built-up shoe and severe dandruff again; standard. And the ‘mushroom’ had seen better days and was solely responsible for the never-ending stream of colds and bouts of D&V. Good times…

 

Will ‘Peddle Pushers’ ever make a comeback? 

In yesteryear Sally and I had corduroy pairs in black and burgundy respectively; you could dress them up or down. For up, add a cream satin blouse with puff sleeves and a gold headband; or ‘tumour inducer’ as I liked to call it.  For down, an over-the-knee sock, jaunty jumper with ‘scotty dog’ applique design in tartan and a juxtapose beret if you were feeling daring.  So the youth club disco was pending and we’d all agreed to wear our ‘PP’s’.  Imagine the hilarity when ‘Anon’; aptly named as she never got over the shame; arrived in a pair of four-sizes too big, turquoise satin ‘PP’s’ made by her Mother.  Literally the first time I ever pissed myself laughing.  Poor ‘Anon’ was not only the talking point of the entire night; a laughing stock and a fire hazard. 

 

Who teaches posh people to eat proper? 

Obviously they learn by example; their Nanny would perhaps decant their Pot Noodle onto a porcelain ‘appetizer’ plate with a sprig of curly parsley in the centre?  Would she then lay a linen napkin on their lap and encourage them to navigate the now re-hydrated, sodium-soaked luncheon with the appropriate knife and fork?  Do posh people take this protracted route to sustenance for a reason? I suppose I must also assume they would pour a carton of Um Bongo into a cut crystal tumbler, toss in a couple of chunks of purified ice and drink in the Orangerie’…

 

Can you be defined by your shoes? 

In which case am I flat-footed, unfeminine and cheap woman with an odd gait and non-symmetrical calves? Shit; that answers my question…

 

Bra’s; which is correct? 

Upping the cup-size and decreasing the back or a smaller cup and wider straps?  Can we then apply this logic to pants?  Is there a optimum ratio of gusset to bulk?  Should M&S offer a buttock-sizing service alongside bust?  Would this extend to the Men’s Department?  After all they’re also juggling their own collection of external appendages which no doubt they’d like to house; comfortably, safely and in the most aesthetically pleasing way…

More musings on the way, after all my internal narrative is a never-ending stream of ‘wtf’s’…

 

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