Hello my Lime Regis Lovers! The Emporium has a little something for you in the guise of the talented and misguided Louise Robbins (former Bond Girl and Dominic Littlewood impersonator). A little less known fact about Ms Robbins is that she has also dabbled in the odd spot of impromptu kick boxing and wrestling. Read on, dear reader, to, erm, read some more …
There is one thing I can put it all down to – pernicketiness. Great word, not sure it actually exists, but great all the same. Or perhaps two things – mixing in a tad of contrariness. And a dwindling supply of patience… Make that THREE things, alright, but this is not turning into the Spanish Inquisition!
These three make a potent combination, I hear you say. Yet, by day I am a mild-mannered janitor – nurse with more than the requisite amount of care, consideration and compassion available for all.
So how does this manifest itself? When I lived in Londinium for many years, my favourite game was Annoy The Commuter, making even the most dull of journeys enlivened for all involved. Well, for me anyway… Please note this game may involve scheming my revenge for any wrongdoings. These may include such heinous crimes as Rucksackitis – inflammation caused by rucksacks wielded inappropriately on the tube – to I’m No Pushover – chasing an evil wench who pushed me over to poke her and call her only mildly rude names (well, we all have our limits). Ha!
Moving away from Londinium I thought I may calm down a bit. And I did, to some extent. Now I’m in the merry land of Wiltshire where many folk look and think like this:
the opportunity is not often there and perhaps I have mellowed with age. Or not. Recent encounters started mildly – on sharing lifts with those who complained about my musical taste resulted in the next journey involving me picking this little delight for their delectation.
Ha! A cacophony of noise for their little eardrums!!
And then there was the annoying incident of the scooter in the road in the early evening. Coming home to my little cul-de-sac after a hard day at work, I realised that some little devil spawn of Satan had left their scooter in the middle of the road.
So, being the safety-conscious, community-minded person that I am, I got out of my car and with a dash of melodrama, I flung it (yes, flung, ha ha!) on the pavement and drove past an open-mouthed mum and kids, giving them my best Paddington Bear glare. The fact that it was probably nothing to do with them was rather by-the-by…
Now I know why everyone likes to play baddies… All that adrenaline… Imagine, in another world I could have evil lightning fingers like the Emperor!
Perhaps the worst (and best) thing is my rejoicing in, and being unapologetic for, my little moments. The fellow Londoner I met in a pub in Bath, who, like me, automatically creates elbow room by, erm, sticking his elbows out so he can’t be bashed into by drunken staggerers or tube commuters. Diamond geezer, I may follow his advice and get my elbows steel plated for extra impact! Ha!
But perhaps there is a little bit of this in all of us. We all, at times, as Missy Elliot may have said, get our grump on! Even our beloved Mrs H, who kindly understood me saying that I never take time off in half-term because of “all the bloody kids”.
Oh and of course pernicketiness exists, I looked it up afterwards. Pernickety ol’ me!
The Emporium wishes to thank the above Ms Robbins for her honest wordings and apologise to all born and bred Wiltshire folk everywhere (but mainly in the location of Wiltshire).
Have you noticed the fashion that the young people are wearing these days? Pretty little things wearing sensible footwear? Adonis’s in thick rimmed glasses? A penchant for the woollen in autumnal colouring? Well have you? HAVE YOU?
Who are these ones? The slim jims, the prom queens, the aesthetically pleasing to the eye ones who dress like us? Are they us? Me thinks very much not! Do they know who Alan Moore is? Do they constantly watch reruns of “The Big Bang Theory” on E4 (and then some on E4+1)? Would they be able to inform you on who their favourite Doctor is (and not the one from their local medical practice)? And if they had to choose betwixt Benedict Cumberbach and Jonny Lee Miller, who would they choose (in theatre and on the small screen – faa-haa)? If you, your very kind self have problematics in answering the aforementioned, be not at a loss, as I consider you to be as nerdy as oneself, due to your loyalty to the Emporium. One last thing – do they really, really need to wear glasses?
Quite franky, this fashion is rude! My preference has always been a nice pair of plastic specs resembling those of Eric Morcambes (apart from when I sported the Dennis Taylor “Snooker Loopy” look, but the best said about that phase the better). So I implore you, please do not tread on my Sue Pollards with your Ted Baker brogues!
I blame the american media who were very much ahead of their time with this look. All you need to do is look at the so called “Nerds” at fictitious high schools and neat secretaries taking short hand on the telly box. With a swipe of her hand and a click of her grip, lady nerd can transform herself into a glamorous minx devoid of glasses and topknot. A vision of “Wow” indeed! If I did that, I would be left with tiny mole eyes and unflattering bumps in me hair. Liars! And while we are on the subject, why has Velma from Scooby Doo been transformed from a clever lass with stocky legs made for playing hockey, to a booby sex siren in orange. Is Scrappy the offcasts of her puppy fat?
So where does this leave the Plain Janes and the Normal Nigels of our society? Does it mean cosmetic surgery, nose trimmers and spray tans?
All we are saying is give real nerds a chance. I believe clothes doth not make the nerd (although it is a fair indication of one). With my unmaintained bun in hair and my fondness of Norris McWhirter, I will not (and frankly can not) aspire to anything less. This fashion will soon be at an end and the alphas will be once again back into silk and stilettos leaving the rest of us losers to breathe a sweaty sigh of relief in our polyester and plimsols. Phew!
As for that Caroline Flack? I remember sporting that style hair, way, way back in my youth. A nice grown out perm with ends to match. Beautiful. Who would have known that back in them days of old, I would have been such a maverick in setting a trend.