Every Picture Tells a Story
I mentioned in the post on house-husbands that I have various skills and strangely one of them is dressmaking. Or it used to be, as I haven’t made anything in years.
But look at this picture of Celia, who in this blog I usually refer to as C, taken at a New Year’s Party in Venice probably in 2002 or 2003.
C at New Year in Venice
It looks like a strapless evening dress or a full skirt with a strapless top. It is neither.
The skirt was luxurious and there was an equally luxurious top to go with it. But when C bought the skirt from Beatrice von Tresckow, the top in her size was sold out, so they said they’d make one for her. Something went wrong and it didn’t fit.
So there we were in a five star hotel in Venice, an hour before the dinner and one of us had nothing to wear! And it wasn’t one of those parties, where she could have gone topless. I hasten to add that she never did outside of the confines of our bedroom.
Depending on where I tell this story, there are various versions. In some she’s in tears and in others she wants to go home, but the truth is probably that although she was upset, she trusted me to have an idea that would work. Her versions of the story used to have a lot of emotional actions, as aren’t most barristers frustrated actors?
She thought I was joking when I asked her for some safety pins. I found two in the dinner suit I was wearing and one in a good pair of trousers. All had been used to attach dry cleaning tickets and after that day, she never ever removed one. But she still referred to it as one of my lazy habits.
I then told her to remove the strapless bra she was wearing and replace it with a basque I knew she’d brought with her to wear under another dress, that was a bit tight and needed a bit of an extra squeeze to get into. She’d also brought it because it was New Year and she knew the extra layer added warmth. She also took the opportunity to change from tights to some stockings as a reward to me, which she said she’d remove, if I couldn’t make her respectable.
I then took the shawl that she had brought to wear with the top and skirt and wound it round her securing it with the safety pins. The hotel was warm, so the lack of a shawl wasn’t a problem.
The result is shown in the picture, which was actually taken after the dancing. So it held together without any problems.
I hasten to add, that wrapping the shawl round wasn’t my original idea, but was borrowed from a very old 1950s, TV Series, called Dick and the Duchess. In one episode, Hazel Court, who played the Duchess, got into a scrape as she often did, lost her clothes and ends up in a boiler suit. She then takes a taxi to her couturier, who was played by a very camp, Michael Medwin. To preserve her decency, he wraps her in expensive silk, tucks it all in and sends her home. He orders the boiler suit to be burnt. I never saw the errant top again.
If there is a moral to this story it is to never travel without safety pins! And steal ideas from out of context and old television shows.
Are Long Dresses a Health and Safety Problem?
I seem to remember in the late 1960s, when women started to wear long dresses again regurlarly on the street, that the Underground warned them to be careful on escalators.
Now that such dresses are popular again, I am surprised that the warning has not been repeated in this Health and Safety obsessed world .
If you go back in history the first escalator on the Underground was installed in 1911 at Earl’s Court station. I’m not sure of my facts, but that surely was about the date, when skirts got a little bit shorter than floor length for general wear.
The Joy Of Sox
I always read Melanie Reid in the Saturday Times.
Today she talked about her awful socks and proposed a satirical book called The Joy of Sox.
I sympathise with her.
I do my own washing and find sorting it difficult after the stroke, as it is an action that needs two good hands and I’ve only got about 1.6. But until recently, I found putting them on difficult and spent a great deal of time finding ones that were easier than others.
But in the last couple of weeks, my hands seem to have cracked the problem and now they go on like they used to before I had the stroke.
Here’s wishing Melanie the same sort of progress.
Caitlin Moran on Slutwalk
I’m not sure about SlutWalk, but Caitlin Moran in The Times today has a thoughtful piece that should be read by everyone.
She says that it is movement that has captured the anger in young women across the world.
I would agree, but it’s not just young women that are angry. Look at the protests in Spain by young men and women about the lack of jobs and as Caitlin points out, the protests across the Arab world and especially Tunisia.
And pensioners and others are angry at how their savings have been ruined by the bankers!
We will see more protests in the current months, unless governments take radical decisions to improve the lot of everyone.
To return to SlutWalk, I’ve always felt that anybody is entitled to wear what they want and not what someone tells them to. As an example I’m not struck on facial piercings, as they give me the creeps, but if someone wants them, then that is their affair!
Obviously what people wear should not be illegal or offensive.
So a T-shirt praising nuclear power or the building of waste incinerators would be acceptable, but one praising the works of Adolf Hitler would not be.
Frock Horror
As a man, this is a problem I don’t have!
I suspect though that the two women cared!
Although one might have cared more than the other, as she actually paid for the dress.
But who are Bar Refaeli and Victoria Silvstedt anyway?
How To Dispose of a Silly Hat
Princess Beatrice was criticised for her hat at the Royal Wedding.
Now according to reports, she has put it on eBay, with the proceeds going to charity.
Good for her! Let’s hope it raises as much money as Myleene Klass’ bikini did!
Should We Ban The Burka?
Should we follow France and impose a ban or take the advice of Damian Green and not ban it, as that would be un-British?
To be fair, I do oscillate from one view to another. A lot depends on my personal expereience at the time.
I remember once I was walking through Mile End in East London and I was horrified to see a woman walking meekly fully vieled and very heavily loaded a couple of metres behind her husband, who was carrying nothing and was totally oblivious to his wife’s plight. Are some men like him, the Islamic equivalent of your stereotype white male loser? They don’t want a wife, but they do need a full time servant at all of their beck and call.
On the other hand, also in East London, I was in need of help in Staples. I was assisted by the manager, who was about twenty-five or so and obviously a Muslim lady, as she was fully vielled. By the use of her eyes, hands and obvious personality, we had a strong conversation and my small problems were solved. Incidentally, whilst seving me she instructed a young white kid to help another customer, who had accidentally knocked a display over. From his reaction, it was obvious that they got on well, as business colleagues should!
To add another example. I was brought up in London and my mother always told me to hold doors and assist people on the stairs in the Underground. As C and myself, used to travel extensively on public transport in London with three boys under three, I know how difficult it is to manage some parts of the Underground by yourself with children. So if someone is struggling, I will often take the front of a buggy and help the pusher, be they man or woman, up or down the steps. Sometimes it is declined, but most take the offer, as what is it to me? A gain probably, as I don’t get stuck behind the struggler. I have been questioned by some as to why I do it and usually reply about my past experiences and the fact that I think it is courteous. I must admit that sometimes, when I do something smaller, like hold a door say and I get no sign of thanks, such as a smile or a raised hand, I feel that is very sad!
So is it not what you wear but how you behave? Relate properly with your fellow human beings and it doesn’t matter what either of you are wearing.
The Result of a Burqa Ban
A headline in The Times yesterday was “I’ll keep her indoors, says man, after wife is fined for wearing veil”.
I’m not in favour of women being covered up in public, but then I’m not someone who think it should be an offence. What has happened in Italy is a case of heads the woman loses and tails the woman does the same.
What we must do is make sure that men and women treat their partners equally. Read about the history of Islam and you’ll find that in the early days women were equal. Are they now? In many cases they are, but in other cases, it does not appear so to me.
But then I also think that any man who doesn’t let his woman out of the house is probably a very inadequate man, who is frightened she might realise what a complete loser he is.
Would You Want One, Let Alone Two?
I saw this set in a shop window by Dalston Junction Station.
Would You Buy One, Let Alone Two?
I obviously, don’t understand style.
More on Short Sleeved Shirts
After yesterday’s funeral, I cooked dinner last night in a short sleeved shirt. As I said before they are so bad for washing-up.
The Anonymous Widower 