Poor Service On Your Tubes? Hit the Juice Bar

I’m not particularly offended by ‘toilet talk’, but come on ladies, there’s a time and a place for such things, and a packed commuter train to London Waterloo, is not one of them.

“The medication I’m on is seriously messing up my insides,” poorly passenger.

“Really? How’d you mean? I thought you were feeling better,” slightly apprehensive friend.

“I am, but, you know…my tubes haven’t vacated for a while. Starting to get pretty clogged up down there,” poorly passenger.

“Oh. Right. Not really sure what I can say to that,” now regretful friend.

“Oh, it’s nothing a mammoth juice session can’t fix. Did you watch Masterchef last night?” poorly passenger.

Don’t you just love our nation of over-sharers?

What do you wish you’d never heard while commuting? Leave me a comment, let’s compare notes!


Get Him to Dragon’s Den!

Never before have I viewed the top deck of a bus as a suitable platform for serious negotiation. This child thought otherwise:

“Ok, Mum. If you want me to have the biscuit when we get home, you need to buy me a toy,” genius child.

“I beg your pardon. I’m not bargaining with a four-year-old,” frustrated Mum.

“Well, that’s what I think,” genius child.

“This lady must think you’re ridiculous,” said frustrated Mum, as she caught my eye.

I could’t help but admire his tenacity: “I’m kinda impressed, wish I’d thought of that at his age.”

“Me too, can’t think where he gets it from” frustrated Mum.

What A Lovely Pair of Blankets

Manolo Blahnik Drawings, has long been a feature book on my coffee table. The pages not only provide exquisitely executed drawings, but offer a sense of escapism; a mere glimpse at a world only few pairs of feet are lucky enough to tread.

Cherry entwined stilettos, bamboo inspired ankle straps, tassels so tassely, one can’t help but blush! My personal fave? Orientalia; a gold coloured mule, encrusted with the most eye-watering precious stones and beading. Simply divine. Dare I say it, but I find Manolo’s sketches far more intriguing and awe inspiring than the shoes themselves. The drawings provide a sense of mystery; a tantalising hint at who might wear them.

Naturally, my ears prick up when I hear Manolo mentioned in conversation. Could the conversationalist be one of these mystic creatures wearing the soles of a pure genius? In this case, I think not.

“No, we actually went in the store,” excitable woman.

The person on the other end of the line was clearly impressed by what she was hearing, as ‘excitable woman’ had to repeat herself, with gusto.

“Honestly, we actually went inside. It. Was. Great. I’m so gonna get a pair of Manolo Blankets,” excitable woman.

Blankets? Surely not? Blan…kets?

Let me get one thing clear, I’m not one to ridicule for the mispronunciation of designer names (I spent years raving about Louboutin’s, only to be rather publicly corrected on my pronunciation), but this really did tickle my tassel.

So, unless Mr Blahnik has branched out into the comfy world of slippers-meet-Ugg-like footwear, I think we can rest assured his iconic designs still have a place on many a coffee table.

ImageManolo Blahnik Drawings – Thames & Hudson

ImageOrientalia – 1986

All Dads – Step Away From the M&Ms.

The delight on the young girl’s face was infectious. Smiling from ear-to-ear, I wondered what had made her so happy? It wasn’t long before I found out.

Delving into her backpack – which appeared as tardis-like as Marry Poppins handbag – she slowly revealed a plastic goody bag full of M&Ms. Those little coloured shells filling her day with excitement before she had consumed a single additive! The young girl had chosen well: pink, lilac, orange, pale blue and a very classy grey hue.

Having visited M&M World in New York a few years back, I can fully appreciate the fun of helping yourself to a pick ‘n’ mix variety pack, I’m tempted to say its more fun than actually eating the little candy covered treats…tempted.

Handing the goody bag to her Dad, the young girl was excitedly deciding in which colour she would devour first.

“I might have the red ones, but the lilac ones are so pretty” additive-free girl.

“As long as you save some for your brother,” Dad, the mediator.

It wasn’t long before I noticed Dad experiencing a little trouble opening the goody bag. With his daughter getting ever so slightly impatient with his inability to get to the M&Ms, I could sense the growing pressure Dad was under.

“Hurry up, I want some now,” additive-free girl.

“Patience, please,” Dad, the aggravator.

And with that, the bag exploded open, M&Ms everywhere, gasps from fellow commuters (the kind you hear when someone accidentally smashes a bottle in a supermarket), and a more than angry little girl.

No one quite knew what to do; the couple opposite sat with mouths open, the teenagers standing in the aisle were giggling to themselves and I was using all my will power to avoid shouting, “Scramble!”

“Dad! Oh no!” additive-free girl.

“So sorry, darling. Look, I’ll get you a packet from the sweet shop on the way home. Don’t worry, you’ll still get to eat some,” Dad, the destroyer.

“No, I wanted those ones, not the boring coloured ones. Thanks a lot,” definitely additive-free girl.

As Dad turned a shade of red, not too unfamiliar to the red M&Ms, his daughter delved once again into her back pack, revealing yet another bag full.

“Not now, sweetheart, let’s wait until we get home. Mummy can give you a hand,” Dad, the defeated.

The Latest Must-Have…Thing

A group of student-tpyes were intently huddled around something. I say ‘something’ because at first, it was hard to determine what was causing such delight.

“Oh wow, where did you get it?” adoring friend.

“There’s a shop I pass on the way to uni. I’ve had my eye on one for ages,” bearer of mysterious object.

I could see my fellow commuters subtly trying to catch a glimpse of this ‘thing’. Pretending to stretch out their tired heads, craning their necks to see the destination map above the doors while averting their eyes towards the centre of the group – even moving slightly closer to the huddle.

“I cannot believe you brought it. Was it expensive?” Mr Sensible.

“Not too much, but it’s a long-term thing so I’m likely to spend more over the years,” bearer of mysterious object.

“What’s it called?” adoring friend.

Okay, so I’m guessing it’s either the latest must-have It bag, or the iPad Air (it’s not unheard-of for people name their gadgets, don’t you know). I’m seriously in need of a new bag, so set my hopes on eyeing up the latest Longchamp, Hindmarch or Mulberry, as I left the train. I quite fancy a deep maroon number, or navy – always classic, always classy.

“Can I touch it?” adoring friend, “just a quite stroke?”

I beg your pardon? Correct me if I’m wrong, but I didn’t think it was customary to stroke a new bag? And you can stroke an iPad until the cows come home, so nothing novel there. I was now desperate to catch a glimpse of their topic of conversation. In a moment of genius, I discreetly (ahem) reached across to put something in the bin. Low and behold, there it was! A miniature, flesh-coloured, spiky, baby hedgehog. Without any doubt, I’m with ‘adorable friend’ on this one. I was utterly bemused by this teeny tiny creature.

I’m not going to deny it, Google images has been put to good use this evening in search of the cutest baby hedgehog picture. The bag can wait, I’m going to send Santa a revised Christmas list.