scribbles tagged ‘wardrobe’

Grown up

Thursday, July 16th, 2015 | tags: , ,  |

IroningNow that I’m a real grown up I have to look like I know what I’m doing, look like I’m capable, at work. Theoretically I could pay someone to take my nice shirts away and iron them into fancy-flatness for me. But, um, I’d feel guilty doing that and it would take time to arrange.

There’s something very sobering about cleaning my own apartment and ironing my own shirts. It feels like I should do it, to keep my feet on the ground and all things ‘looking after yourself’ in ‘perspective. The only thing I don’t understand is why I have to iron 10 shirts every 7 days. Something is clearly going wrong here. My socks are not vanishing, I don’t wear 2 outfits a day, how come my pile of ironing breeds…..

Nice shirts Wendy? Hell yeah!

I love a good crisp shirt with cufflinks in the morning!

Grown up
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1 wonderful musing »

time pieces

Sunday, April 20th, 2014 | tags: , , , , , , ,  |

Rotary Watch

Tissot watchThe watch I wear has a fixed-length strap. The watch tells me the time and fluctuations in my size.  Since starting my new job in July 2013, I’ve lost weight. The watch used to be a tight fit, now it swivels around my wrist and slides over the nobbly bit of bone at the base of my humerus

In my previous job I’d gradually grown pudgy and the watch had tightened on my wrist. It didn’t move, the strap left pink patterns indented on my skin at the end lf the day

Dad left two watches when he died. One, a beautiful Longines watch that mumsie had secretly saved for from her meagre housekeeping budget, a birthday surprise for dad. The second an almost identical visual design, a Tissot, that he wore on a daily basis. It’s a little scratched, battered. I remember it and can see it on his wrists in photographs

When I was a child mumsie gave me  t-shirt with the word “Tissot” on it. I didn’t know what it meant, but the word was on the fast cars in the formula 1 racing that we watched on the TV every weekend. It was an adult size t-shirt, much to big for my gangly teenage body, I wore that t-shirt to school, proudly. It meant nothing to my friends. To me it was a present from mum, something special to her and dad

After dad passed, Mum gave the Tissot watch to me. I love that watch way beyond it’s aesthetic or monetary value. I get very attached to things

6 months after dad’s death and I’m no longer spontaneously crying. I wonder about mum…



time pieces
5 votes rating 5

1 wonderful musing »

Laundry ship set to sail

Sunday, February 16th, 2014 | tags: , , , , , , , , , , ,  |

Laundry ShipAnother stormy weekend chez Wendy House.

A temporary break in the flood production system. No rain this morning.

Laundry to be washed and dried. No modern tumble-drier accessories. My laundry its catching some rare sun rays in the Wendy House wind-swept garden.

Extra ballast had been added to the ‘airer’ to prevent it attempting a take-off garden tour. Bricks.

The ships that carried lumber from Seattle to San Francisco, to build the beautiful houses there, carried stone back to Seattle as ballast to weight the ships appropriately on the return journey. The stone was used to build many of the Historic buildings in the Pioneer square area of Seattle. Awesome.

Sampo stretchSampo is staying in.

The RSPCA has warned that cats are likely to take-off in these strong winds. Despite her own substantial personal ballast, Sampo’s a cautious cat.

Sampo’s not risking any unplanned flights.


Laundry ship set to sail
3 votes rating 4.67

7 bits of fabulous banter »

mourning of the funeral

Friday, December 6th, 2013 | tags: , , , , , , , , ,  |

Poppy checks funeral detailsDad’s funeral was just right for him. The funeral directors were excellent. A man from the funeral directors in a top hat with a silver-tipped long cane walked in front of the hearse as it approached the crematorium. Something wonderfully reverent, respectful, about this little show. I couldn’t deal with the physical presence of Dad’s body. Being in the same room as the body that no longer hosted the dad I knew was overwhelming. From the moment the hearse pulled out in front of our cortege car I was in full mucus-soaked tears, unable to pull words together.

Despite dearly wanting to say some words at the ceremony, I opted put, unable. I hadn’t anticipated being the blubbiest of the family though I was well prepared with multiple thick white cotton handkerchiefs. Everything went smoothly. The funeral was a very traditional, Christian, event. The archaically expressed Christianity didn’t speak to me, the sentiments and shared respectful kind words were good to hear in the company of so many people who’s lives he’d touched. My brother’s tribute was spot-on, as was Dad’s ex-boss’s.

I didn’t wear a hat (Mum’s request), I didn’t wear black. Mum requested that I wear my new dark-blue tailored suit, she wanted me to look good and talk bout my new job with the guests. Only a couple of people wore hats, they looked good.

I wonder how the funeral process will change over time? Live twitter feeds with hashtags projected on the wall relaying condolences from those who can’t be present? Live camera shot of the coffin moving to the incinerator?

The wake made much more sense than the funeral. It was good for me and I hope for the guests. More emphasis on the wake please.



mourning of the funeral
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morning of the funeral

Wednesday, December 4th, 2013 | tags: , , , , , , , ,  |


Portishead, BristolNo-one slept well that night. All awake and dressed before the alarms chimed.

I took mum to the hairdressers and wandered around town trying to think of Christmas,  stay warm, share the apparent normality of the other pedestrians.

No rush, everything sorted, I just wanted to get it over with. I think we all expected the funeral and wake to bring a closure that might release deep sleep and remove what feels like a physical hangover as if mild alcohol poisoning were running through my blood, amplifying noises, emotions and bringing a feeling of physical sickness.

Mum’s hair looked good. Later she showed me dad’s tie collection. Did I want any? I wanted them all, I wanted to look at them and imagine him wearing them, I wanted to tease him about his taste in ties.

Wendy:  “No, I don’t think I’ll wear them and I don’t know anyone who wears ties. That one’s nice

Mum: “It was your dad’s favourite

Ties If mum hasn’t given them to charity by the next time I visit, I think I will take some and wear them. Clearly we have a similar tie-design sensibility…

morning of the funeral
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Are we nearly there yet?

Wednesday, August 14th, 2013 | tags: , , ,  |

Album cover for 'Easter' by Patti SmithThe end of a warm spring in the mid 1970’s and my skinny little body emerges from an oversized cricket jumper that I’d knitted for myself. As a tall (5″2′) new teen I was rapidly outgrowing my clothes, I looked for clothes that I had some risk of growing into their fit. Mumsie would plan summer clothes shopping trips

mumsie: Darling, do you want a bra?

wendy: NO! I haven’t got anything to put in it

mumsie: I know dear, just asking

Every spring, when I stopped wearing woolly jumpers mum would ask me the same question and I’d give the same answer.

Virtually all of m girl friends at school were wearing Bra’s. In 1978 I tried-on some bras. I couldn’t even fill a 32’A underwired push-up bra. Mum bought me a training Bra.  Bra’s are expensive and a rather uncomfortable thing for small gals, even when properly fitted. It didn’t take long for me to convince myself that I didn’t need a bra, and in 1978 Patti Smith helped reinforce that belief.

Are we nearly there yet?
3 votes rating 5

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first fitting

Saturday, July 27th, 2013 | tags: ,  |

Voucher for £50 at 'a suit that fits'3 weeks after my initial measure-up for a suit I returned my ‘mystery shopper’ form. A couple of days later my payment arrived,  voucher for subsequent purchases from the tailor.  I think they liked my feedback because they’ve given me twice the standard payment for my mysterious shopping.

This means that I can buy a bargain price hand tailored shirt to match my suit. Nice, they are doing a good job of building customer loyalty.

first fitting
1 vote rating 4

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my links

Wednesday, July 17th, 2013 | tags: ,  |

cufflinks“Oh no darling, you don’t want fold back cuffs. Dad used to wear fold back cuffs, they’re all clunky dear”

Almost all of Dad’s work shirts were fold back cuffs, the cuffs held in place by cufflinks. He looked very dapper. When riding the tube I’ve noticed how the men in fold-back cuffs still look more pretty and stylish than those in ordinary buttoned cuffs.

They are clunky, like bangles and bracelets, but I like them. Have you still got any of dad’s cufflinks? Can I have any of them?

I’m going to invest in some snazzy shirts with sizable collars and some fold-back cuffs to wear under my new tailored suit, when it’s finished.  Mum actually seemed glad to get rid of Dad’s cufflinks “He wont be wearing these old things again, these were a graduation present from his father, he’ll want to keep these. The graduation cufflinks were engraved with Dad’s initials, and I thought how proud his dad must have been to have invested in buying such a luxury. I recognised all the pairs that mum gave me, the 1960’s snazzy pewter shapes, moss-agate squares and the ones with a nobbly gold texture.



my links
1 vote rating 5

2 bits of fabulous banter »

a tailored experience

Sunday, June 23rd, 2013 | tags: , ,  |

I’ve been hankering after a bespoke tailored suit. Inspired by icons like Katherine Hepburn, Marlene Dietrich, Patti Smith, Annie Lennox, Ellen DeGeneres.

   Marlene Dietrich wearing Coco Chanel    annie-lennox1

I’ve never been on a salary that would make buying one an easy part of budgeting, and I’ve never prioritised saving-up to pay for the luxury. Until now.

When I booked a consultation with a tailor the booking confirmation email included the opportunity to be a ‘Mystery Shopper’. I couldn’t resist. They provided me with a detailed evaluation form. The form helped to set my expectations about what happens during the consultation. I’ll be a more well behaved customer. Probably.

a tailored experience
7 votes rating 4.57

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dont you wish you were clean like me?

Wednesday, January 23rd, 2013 | tags: , ,  |

UK style laundry dryingI can improvise a complex modern gadget while simultaneously overcoming a set of push-button controls. Yay! Take a look at my laundry ‘dryer’ and swoon with envy. Oh YES!

How does it work?

A hot water radiator warms the air in the small yet ample bathroom. My recently washed clothes hang, unsuspectingly, on an airer. Meanwhile a scented candle loiters, invading the unsuspecting laundry. It could turn into a Turkish style bathroom.

The real sneaky part in this equation is the little blue dehumidifier. It blows warm air at the laundry while attracting the moisture to condense on a couple of frozen metal plates. Genius. There are 6 different buttons on my dehumidifier – that’s more than a handful – and I’ve pushed them all! The hardest part was balancing between the roll-top bath and sink to take this picture. HA! Scented dry laundry on a rainy day in a house too small to fit a tumble dryer, and NO MILDEW!

I’m a winner!!

dont you wish you were clean like me?
1 vote rating 4

2 bits of fabulous banter »

Looky Likey #8: Cruella de Ville

Monday, December 17th, 2012 | tags: , , ,  |

A wendy wearing her favourite, only, Askatrán wool hat inspires local Apple fan-boy onlookers with thoughts of Cruella de Ville.

Meanwhile a svelte local Polish girl ran her fingers through my hair as she effervesced:

Never dye your hair! it’s beautiful, grow it really long, it’s so witchy with the silky white and dark. You look so witchy, in a good way

I’ve added “Dalmation fur kilt” to my Christmas present wish list.

Looky Likey #8: Cruella de Ville
2 votes rating 4.5

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kilt wickednesses

Monday, December 3rd, 2012 | tags: , , ,  |

Kilted guestsOwning a kilt is not all about a big song and dance. There are some sneaky little down sides to the experience which I suspect many a non-kilt wearer is wise to.

These are the reasons why I haven’t yet bought a woollen kilt, they:

  • are rather itchy (but I could wear thick tights or an underskirt to deal with this)
  • smell of damp wool when it’s raining (don’t wear it outside in the rain)
  • need to be dry-cleaned occasionally (that’s not too expensive and inconvenient)

The main kilt use challenge that I hadn’t anticipated is based on using the kilt with modern sanitary technology – the toilet.

Stop reading now if you have an aversion to toilet talk.

With a normal skirt a girl can simply lift the rear of the skirt and hold it up while taking a seat on the toilet – so the skirt never touches the toilet. Clean and neat. Not so with a kilt. There is so much material in the pleats that no matter where you grab it, the sides fall right back down gain. Cool! But not cool when you want to sit on  the loo without dangling it down the pan.

A kilt works for a squatting position above the pan, or squatting when there is no pan – in the wild where it was originally used.  I’ve adjusted my posture when wearing the kilt in the washrooms over the pan so that I stay standing and flick the kilt op over my back while leaning forward – this lets the wealth of material lie across my back.  This position requires more directional skill during the process than sitting down, but works to keep the kilt clean and out of the way.

you have been warned

kilt wickednesses
2 votes rating 4.5

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kilt virtues

Saturday, December 1st, 2012 | tags: , , , ,  |

The Farringdon GapAfter several months of wearing a genuine kilt, purchased in Edinburgh (online), I’ve leaned about many of it’s more subtle virtues, it:

  • water repellent:  flicks the rain off the surface layer as you walk – never soaks up water because of the movement designed in. Rather like the water coming off a dog when it shakes itself. This effect is stronger for pure wool kilts (which mine isn’t). It’s suitable for rainy climates.
  • toasty!: is very warm because the pleats make it 3 folds of material thick at most point. Again, this effect if emphasised for a wool kilt. It’s more suitable for cold climates.
  • curvy: demonstrates the comely turn of my calves – whatever it’s made from.
  • adjustable sizes: the wrap-around style means the kilt can fit you as you put-on, or loose, weight. This gives the kilt longevity as a wardrobe item. Excellent! As I approach my 50’s I’m anticipating the onset of a little plumpness and the kilt will stay with me unlike other clothes that might need replacing.
  • swing-tastic: with just a normal walk the back of the kilt swings in a playful way. With a flick of the hips it’s even more fun, and spinning around? Well! It’s a must-do activity in a kilt.

Friends have commented that very few people can ‘pull-off’ wearing a kilt, but I am one of them. I can pull it off while keeping it on. I think everyone should have a kilt, it should be a standard part of everyone’s wardrobe because it is quite simply –


kilt virtues
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magic kilt

Saturday, November 17th, 2012 | tags: , , , , , ,  |

Walking along a crowded platform on Paddington station, suddenly an arm wrapped around a shoulder and a Scottish accent welcomed me. My friend had seen my Royal Stewart tartan through the crowds and recognised my gait. How lovely that the kilt could help bring us together in this otherwise unfriendly milieu.

Later, standing on a tube train, a stranger smiled at me and invited me to take an empty seat they had rights to by proximity. This has never happened before during my London commutes. Later again, a young man invited me to pass in front of him to leave the train rather than taking my natural place in the rambling crush.

I love all 9 yards of my kilt, it helps people see me.

It inspires kindness from strangers.

It’s magic.

magic kilt
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misleading advertising

Monday, October 8th, 2012 | tags: , , , , ,  |

M&S promote British StyleI rarely go into M&S. This window display is a prime example of why. The slogan says “the best of British style” the mannequins are wearing shades of biege jumpers, denim and undistinctive footwear.  Neither classic, exciting, country, or any kind of combination that could really be described as style except perhaps ‘comfortably numb’.

Poor show M&S

I’m confident that British styling can do a whole lot better!

misleading advertising
2 votes rating 4

4 bits of fabulous banter »

wearing dad’s jumper

Friday, June 29th, 2012 | tags: , , , , , , ,  |

Mumsie: what would you like us to get you for your 18th Birthday present?

Wendy: A motorbike

Mumsie: No

Wendy: I’ll save to buy the protective clothing – Helmet, jacket, trousers, boots

Mumsie: No, nothing electrical for your 18th

Wendy: The Gibson Les Paul you got Bros 62 is an electric guitar

Mumsie: That’s different

Wendy: What if I buy the bike and you can give me a full set of leather gear and a helmet for my 18th?

Mumsie: No

Wendy: Why not?

Mumsie: No clothes for your 18th

Wendy: What can I have?

Mumsie: I thought a nice Diamond and Topaz ring

Wendy: If that’s what I’m allowed, I’ll take it… … can I pawn it for money towards a motorcycle?

Honda CB100N

Mum and Dad rarely rowed. Later that year they rowed about my getting a motorbike. Dad sided with me, placating mumsie with a promise to make sure that I looked after the bike properly. The morning before Dad took this photograph he carried a comfy chair into the garage while I laid out the large tent groundsheet on the garage floor between my bike and his comfy chair. Dad opened the Haynes manual.

Gradually I deconstructed the engine and lay each piece out in neat chronological order on the groundsheet. When the engine was in pieces we took a break to clean up and eat Sunday lunch.  Then, slowly, peace by piece, I rebuilt the engine. When I got confused, Dad showed me the relevant Haynes manual picture and pushed me to make a decision. He helped listen to the sound quality when adjusting the timer.

I felt so proud of myself once I’d finished.  Dad let me wear my favourite of his jumpers for this celebratory photograph.

The bike lasted just over a year before I sold it on for a profit.

My diamond and topaz ring, worn less than 6 times in 30 years,  reminds me that mum and dad love me and the responsibility and freedom of motorcycling…



wearing dad’s jumper
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girded up

Monday, May 28th, 2012 | tags: , , ,  |

Kilted guestsI wasn’t the only person in a kilt at the wedding. This father and son couple were wearing their official kilts. The father, a military instructor at Sandhurst, said of his son:

He hasn’t fully got the hang of it yet, he wouldn’t be able to step over a barbedwire fence and I have to make him wear underwear

Later, the boy’s kilt was on back to front – it must have worked it’s way around – but he didn’t notice. Very cute.

You can just see the ‘sgian dhub‘, Gaelic for “black knife,”  an ornamental sock knife poking out of the top of the fathers sock. It’s a polite gesture to your host to put it in the sock where it can be seen – rather than hidden to enable a suprise attack

He told a delightful story of how the bagpipe’s were banned as an ‘instrument of war’ because they instilled fear in the opposition. Alas, I could find no evidence to support this claim online. This is what wikipedia says:

King George II attempted to assimilate the Highlands into Great Britain by weakening Gaelic culture and the Scottish clan system,though claims that the Act of Proscription 1746 banned the Highland bagpipes are not substantiated by the text itself. It was soon realised that Highlanders made excellent troops and a number of regiments were raised from the Highlands over the second half of the eighteenth century.


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raising a smile

Saturday, May 26th, 2012 | tags: , , ,  |

quaint street in FromeOn the way to the wedding I took a rest break in the cute town of ‘Frome’ pronounced Froooooooom sounds like vroooooom

As I walked down the aptly named ‘Stoney Street’ a lady wearing a pink tailored jacket, a flared skirt and 2 inch heal court shoes looked at my kilt, covered her mouth with her hand,  smiled then turned her face away from me. I suspect that was a full laugh out loud

Bringing such a smile to people’s faces felt good, I raised my shoulders and accentuated the swing of my hips to highlight the swing of the kilt

In every small street shop that I went into someone remarked on my kilt, with a big smile on their face. Mostly they said really nice things

When clothes that I like bring a smile to other peoples face and encourage them to say nice things to me, I know I’m onto a winner

The kilt stays, it may even get a partner….


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redistributing the kitty quotient

Wednesday, May 16th, 2012 | tags: ,  |

Hello Kitty HeadbandThis post is an homage to Bux’s blog ‘Everyday Oslo‘. From her blog I’ve learned of  the  informal exchange of goods that goes on in Nordic capitals and seen the chirpy graffitti and sneaks onto everyday walls

I’ve introduced a new blog tag “Everyday Reading” to log those things that the locals of this town anonymously swap on the streets

Today’s contribution is a sporty, spotty, stripey, Hello Kitty headband


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out of the closet

Monday, May 14th, 2012 | tags: , , , , ,  |

Cricket Jumperwendy: I’ve recently realised that I’m a cross-dresser

Spottydog: (laughs) are you serious? I’ve known that for ages!

wendy: well obviously I suspected, what with all the trousers and buying mens jumpers.  But I bought the jumpers because they’re virtually the same as the womens jumpers except they’re cheaper.  I thought I was just buying cheaper versions of girls clothes. But I’m not sure anymore. I think I might be a transvestite. Is a transvestite the same thing as a cross dresser?

Spottydog: does it matter?

wendy: well, I’d like to know what to say to people when I come out of the closet

Spottydog: you’re not in the closet

wendy: oh yeah…  ….do you like my new cricket jumper?  It’s to go with my kilt…

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help getting dressed

Saturday, May 12th, 2012 | tags: , , , , ,  |

Mumsie helped with my wedding outfit decisions. What goes with my fabulous new Royal Stewart tartan kilt:

  • Sox or stockings? Stockings – Mumsie didn’t think it was good form to reveal my bare knees to strangers. I take after Dad in the knee department, he once won a nobbly-knees contest
  • Red or Black stockings? Black stockings – Mumsie felt it would be ok to wear black to a wedding nowadays. The colour is no longer reserved for mourning.  Several wedding guests were dressed completely in black. Tiger, who was actually in mourning wore a black shirt. One guest wore a white lace dress, risking a clash with the Bride’s outfit
  • Red or Black shoes? Red shoesCelebratory flatties for lots of jigging on the post-vows disco dancefloor
  • White or Black shirt? White shirt
  • Leather or velvet jacket? Leather jacket
  • Hat or no hat – No hat!!!!!!  No-one at the wedding wore a hat.  4 women were sporting fascinators at the ceremony, but no hats or tiarras. A trend that’s changed dramatically in my wedding-going career
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why are you taking pictures of shoes?

Tuesday, May 8th, 2012 | tags: , , ,  |

Bridemaids Shoesasked the young girl

Because they’re pretty and tell the tale of their owners running around – free from footwear

I was the only girl over the age of 10yrs wearing flat-soled shoes. The youngsters were quite keen to kick-off their flatties, I liked their attitude, they were all about running, twirling and laughing.

The adults were more about drinking, smoking and re-telling histories


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it’s a white wash!

Sunday, March 11th, 2012 | tags: , ,  |

the white washThere’s no story

Everyone is keeping stum!

There’s been a very effective whitewash at the wendy house, even the bastards at News International can’t tap into the story

it’s a white wash!
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wandering wardrobe

Monday, February 20th, 2012 | tags: , , ,  |

Empty roadWardrobe full of dreams C S Lewis wrote the Chronicals of Narnia while living in Oxford. On a frosty February morning driving along a deserted Oxfordhsire road reminds me of stepping from the Wardrobe into a frozen Narnia

Old Frenchy
My wardorbe was originally shipped from France to Portsmouth, probably circa 1880. It has a French accent. I found it in a 1993 garage sale (no garage) where the owner was moving to America and selling large furniture that wouldn’t ‘fit’ in an American apartment

Sailed to Seattle
Ironically, in 2000 I  shipped the wardrobe from Portsmouth to the USA. The french wardrobe looked decidely small in the large bedroom with its own built-in, walk-in, wardrobe. In Seattle the wardrobe was honourarily called an ‘Armoire‘ in respect of its origins.

Now nearer Narnia
Most recently it was shipped from Seattle to the Wendy House in Reading town,  near Narnia inspiring countryside of Oxfordshire. Armoire holds my hat collection. Over 50 hats, silk and top hats in hat boxes, baseball caps on hooks, Cloches  carefully laid out and stuffed with wooly ski hats.

Mr. BennMr Benn
The hats in Armoire provide a doorway to so many different places. Each time I put on a different hat, like Mr Benn, I’m taken to the place that is right for that hat. In Today’s -12 temperatures my  ear-muffing psuedo-Russian snow leopard hat will be taking me somewhere….I wonder where…

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Wednesday, January 11th, 2012 | tags: , , , ,  |

Vieno Tuulikki KolehmainenThis photograph of 2 boys and a girl was taken around 1910 give or take a decade in Viipuri, Finland

The relative lack of gender definition advertised by the childrens clothes is a pleasant suprise.  All 3 are wearing tunics that look like ‘dresses’ with dropped waistelines and high necklines, dark stockings, sturdy lace-up boots, large collars

These boots were probably purchased from the shoe store at 20 Torkkelinkatu, Viipuri, owned by the children’s father Alpo Kolehmainen or his later ‘factory’ at Mikkeli

The gender differences are also clear with the boys in larger white collars, and shorts below their tunics. The girl in paler coloured dress with elbow length sleeves and no obvious shorts

I suspect that this dress style is mainly specific to children, though drop waistlines became popular for adult female dresses in the 1920s

I wonder whether these dress style choices were specific to this family or part of a broader fashion?

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bright stripey legwarmers

Monday, November 21st, 2011 | tags: , , ,  |

It’s rather like Sesame Street’s “Furry Happy Monsters”

with a distinctive 1970’s

psuedo-professional-dancewear feel

ideal wendy-wear

for added bounce-ability quotients

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Thursday, September 29th, 2011 | tags: , , ,  |

numb·er·i·cal /nəmerikəl/



1) Deprived of the power to feel or manipulate a number or series of numbers

“wendy suffered a numberical moment when asked to work out how many people it would take to eat 6 packages of  twiglets in 30 minutes”  (the answer was, of course:  ‘1, ME!’ )

2) Inability to perceive numbers

“When asked how many packets of twiglets are hidden in the back of your wardrobe? wendy numberically answered “MINE!”

3) Counting without direct use of numbers

wendy numberically asserted that there were a whole bunch of twiglets for sale in the Co-op”

“A guest in the wendy house numberically suggested there were loads of twiglets hidden in the back of wendy’s wardrobe” (not actually true because I’ve eaten them)


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pour the Napoleon brand e

Monday, July 11th, 2011 | tags: , , , ,  |

Getting ready for Barcelona in October. How? Buying a light-weight rain jacket and some comfy sandals! This year I’ve been lucky enough to get an annual bonus so I’ve indulged myself with:

  1. Expensive “Ladies” Linen Barbour Jacket coated with a rough finish polyurethane. Essentailly a jacket that looks wet and has an over-priced classic British brand name. Almost Burberry. Does this make me a chav?
  2. Cheap black leather Sketchers‘ “tone-up” sandals. The advertising bumf supplied by the manufacturer says that a clinical study (of 8 people) showed that there is significantly more muscle activity when walking in these compared to normal sandals. That activity will make my bum firmer. Well, there’s fancy foot-technology for you! If the previous purchase hasn’t qualified me as a chav, surely this one will?

These summer purchases will compliment my Ray Bans which are itching to be put in my Tumi Barcelona carry-on bag beside my elderly Animal washkit

If I haven’t already, I’m about to crash through the cusp of chavy. That’s the equivalent of Concorde breaking the sound barrier, only for Brand purchasing

Yeah Baby!

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drawers for drawers

Friday, July 1st, 2011 | tags: , , , , ,  |

Riding the London commuter train back to Reading I realised I’d left my house keys in the office, luckily my neighbour was home, able to let me in with her spare key. It’s been a week for scattiness. I spent about 3 hours looking for my E11, EHIC, ready for my summer vacation.

Searching was a serious process that involved:

  • looking in all the pockets of 5 handbags (USA purses)
  • The contents of 4 old purses (USA Wallets)
  • 16 drawers, some containing drawers – I might have hidden the card in my underwear. It’s possible.
  • 4 trays of important ‘stuff’ , once recent letters that have faded to the bottom of unotuched piles
  • lesser-used jacket pockets

chest for drawersMy chest of drawers is more organised now that I’ve carefully inspected, sorted, folded and replaced each item. The search threw up some surprises, the condoms with a 2008 use-by date. Thrown away. Pre-Euro continental coinage from the 1990s, re-packed for posterity. No E11 card

Once I’d run out of obvious places, I gave up. A solemn swathe of paranoia about my ability to file and find key documents, a history of losing my passport, drove me to check that the passport was where I thought it should be. It was.

Tucked inside my passport was my E11 card.

A sensible place.



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3 bits of fabulous banter »

hiding under a silk hankie

Saturday, May 21st, 2011 | tags: , ,  |

neckscarfcharming friend #1:  that’s a nice neckscarf

wendy: it doubles as a hankerchief for sneeze emergencies or magic tricks

charming friend #2: I thought it was hiding a hickie

wendy: (raucous loud laughter, trying to dispel the hickie myth before rumours take flight)


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