Hairslides , hooky perfume , happiness and glitter ....

My initial reaction on realising its 20 years since the dawn of Britpop was “blooming heck, where did those two decades go!”

But then I decided it was a brilliant excuse to take you back in time on a tragical history tour of my youth.

So here we are back in the 90s ,follow me to Gillingham High Street ,this morning we’re meeting up with my best mate Tracy who’s back from uni in London for a couple of days . Tonight we plan to go clubbing at Excalibur’s at the King Charles hotel because Friday is indie night Subsonic and of course that requires some new outfits.

No designer labels for us though we’re after the charity shops finest Crimplene couture, granny dresses to chop into micro minis worn with black tights and D.M’s or the finest in 60s/ 70s massive collared shirts to compliment your favourite cords or jeans.  

We’ll stop off at Richards discount store on Canterbury Street for glittery nail polish, roll on lip-gloss and knock off copies of Dior’s Poison and voila, you have a whole new look for just under £10 from your beaded purse. Later we might venture into Chatham if we haven’t found our dream outfit here and of course, don’t forget to pick up your directions hair dye from The Candy Bar in Rochester.

That’s our glad rags sorted, so what’s next?  We now have 2 options , if Tracy stays at mine it’ll be Hubba Bubba soda and a Cadburys Boost sitting in Wigmore Park talking about bands and boys we like while trying not to get intimidated by the townies who have taken offence to our plastic ( and in my case, Barbie) hair slides and vintage sunglasses . If its sleepover time at Tracy’s though it will be concealing alco-pops under the bellbottom of our flares so we don’t get in trouble with her stepdad for having alcohol in the house, although to be honest I’m think he’s far more concerned about you wearing your shoes in his home than whether we are slightly more merry than we should be.

Fuelled by Hoopers Hooch or if we’re feeling brave the fruit flavoured nail polish remover that is 20/20, the night is young  so where shall we go before we hit the dance floor for a bit of indie swaying and posturing. Some nights we’ll walk from Gillingham to Chatham to Rochester and back again, it’s no wonder I was much fitter then than I am now.

 On our walk we can take in some of the scenes of our youthful japery, the Great Lines which we decided to take a hike across one day in gale force winds, what later became the manor club( and home to my mid life crisis mischief making and d.j career )putting bands on and getting off with boys who inscribed their names into a bar of soap for you. Take a walk up a certain street in Rochester and I can even show you the house where I had my “do you remember the first time” experience but obviously we’ll keep that one a secret for now to spare any blushes as that very person could possibly be reading this!

Despite my protestations to him at the time that he wasn’t my first i think he pretty much might have guessed it was from my lack of skill in the bedroom area and a tendency to laugh nervously everytime it looked like something vaguely rude was about to happen !

Tonight’s alehouse of choice is the Hogshead in Chatham, the mirrors in the girls toilets make everyone look ghastly but otherwise it is a lovely pub for all the misshapes , mistakes and misfits of the town to meet up . We might also partake in a few bevvies at the Command House or Churchill’s especially if they have any bands playing but come half 10 there’s only one place we want to be, so we’re off back  towards Gillingham because now its Subsonic time and that dance floor needs me.

 We’re through the doors with no trouble, let’s get those drinks in and find a place to people watch and strut our funky stuff. A blue Bols and lemonade for me and a Pernod and coke for the lady then it’s wahey! I love this track, watch me pull some awkward indie shapes to the sounds of Blur, Suede Elastica and Pulp as well as Motown , The Kinks and The Beatles.

Ooh look ,there’s Kev the Goth i used to go out with who wears more makeup than me ( especially black lipstick that used to end up all over my face making me look like I’d been sucking on an exhaust pipe ) , let’s do our silly dance to Trouble by Shampoo ,that really used to annoy him. Out on the dance floor is Stuart, Medway’s designated Jarvis Cocker, he’s so cool and the Adidas twins, they’re having a row about who’s the most Britpop. Tracy used to have a bit of a thing for one of them but right now we’re involved in a bizarre love pentagon with the bloke who will not only steal her heart but also her debit card and  a young Mick Jagger –alike hairdresser who will lift me up in a passionate embrace under Chatham viaduct exposing my knickers to all and sundry . It turns out they’re both really in love with the other woman in this amour polygon and  she’s welcome to both of them in the end.

After hours of mingling , doing  interesting dance moves with skinny attractive indie boys  and holding toilet doors shut for people you’ve never met before but now completely love , all too soon Bugs Bunny’s voice rings out across the dance floor signalling” that’s all folks” and our night has finally reached its conclusion. We all scramble to the cloakroom or kebab van before grabbing a taxi or walking home with the sound of the music still ringing in our ears planning to do it all again next week.

And as  we disco down at Subsonic every Friday it’s hard to believe that just a few short years the Britpop bubble will have burst, possibly as it crossed the threshold of number 10 and we’ll just be bit part players in the celebration of an anniversary come 2014.

But  while Britpop may be 20 years old, for this girl here who’s still partial to a side swept fringe in a plastic hairclip , a nice pair of flares and retro plimsolls , there’s something about that era that makes me smile and reminisce  that i was that age once again.

 

UNEDITED VERSION OF GIRL FROM THE NECK DOWN COLUMN - MEDWAY MESSENGER 21/04/14

( WITH A FEW NEW ADDED EXTRA BITS THAT I FORGOT TO PUT IN ORIGINALLY ! )

Dee-vinyl sounds 27/04/14

With a tendency towards no affixed hairstyle and a unique approach to fashion that didn't always sit well with those who were obsessed with the hits of stock , Aiken and waterman there was no chance I was ever going to be part of the group of girls at school who were into beauty , hair and all that fancy stuff .

Likewise trying to find new ways to bunk off p.e instead of looking forward to it meant I was never going to be part of the sporty crowd either.

So the only place for me to fit in would be with the birds who loved their music. Obsessed by the sixth formers in their black and white stripy tights , granny dresses and interesting knitwear I was inspired as I grew older to move on from my only teenybopper group obsession with aha to listening to the smiths and the cure and later on blur , ride , the mock turtles and the stone roses . 

At home I poured over the contents of my parents  record collections and played them on my dad's white and orange vintage  60s record player. 

I bopped to elvis and Danny and the juniors on 78 , shimmied to Diana , the supremes and all the mainstays of Motown , became a massive fan of both the Beatles and the stones while my classmates were wondering if Jason still loved Kylie .

And while other loves may have been long forgotten my love for tracks rather than having pampered tresses or pert tits has remained so as a new part of my blog each week I'm going to list 20 tracks that I'm loving that week .

Some you will love , others might not be to everyone's taste but I refuse to apologise for any of them , they are me , they are ....Dee-vinyl sounds.

So here we go with my first list , they're not in any particular order , just listed in the way they came tumbling out of my head onto the pages of a notebook.

1)The love you save - Jackson 5

2)Terry-Kirsty maccoll

3)heard it through the grapevine -the slits 

4)can I get a witness -marvin Gaye 

5)golden years - David Bowie 

6)stacks -pulp 

7)breakaway -Tracy ullman

8)spinning wheel -Shirley bassey

9)break it up -Julie Driscoll 

10)love child - the supremes 

11)loves gone bad - Chris Clark 

12)she's so modern - the boomtown rats 

13 ) wallflower -Etta James 

14)you're breaking my heart - Nilsson 

15)laverne and Shirley theme tune 

16)Cruel to be kind - nick Lowe 

17) too many fish in the sea - the marvellettes

18) tramp - Carla Thomas and Otis redding 

19)ca plane pour moi - plastic Bertrand 

20) Eloise - the damned 

A MOTHER AND A FIGHTER VERSION 1- THE ORIGINAL UNEDITED VERSION

Give or take the vicious circle of piles, diarrhoea and constipation not to mention the water retention that gave me legs Nelly the elephant would’ve been proud of, it had been a pretty idyllic pregnancy up until that day in September 02 when i was admitted to Medway hospital for observation after a slightly raised blood pressure reading.

My midwife had commended me on how well I was looking after myself and the nurse who escorted me to the maternity unit that day seemed genuinely surprised at how enthusiastically the woman who was by now the size of a small planet climbed the stairs instead of using the lift.

My stay at Medway though was short lived as a shortage of cots for my probable premature multiple delivery led to me being transferred to the Q.E.Q.M in Margate.

One not entirely comfortable ambulance ride later we arrived at the coastal town hospital bathed in the glorious Indian summer sunshine and I was wheeled through the doors to settle in.

However whereas in Medway I’d felt close to home I now felt like I was miles away from those who cared for me. The staff were lovely but as I watched the other expectant mums, who obviously lived locally receiving regular visitors I began to feel very lonely sat in that side ward not knowing whether anyone was going to find time to visit me that day.

The stress of it must have finally started to take its toll on my health when at around midnight that Saturday i woke up with the most horrendous heartburn and pounding headache. The nurse looking after me was wonderful fetching me some antacid and aspirin and after a good cry, I finally settled down deciding I’d probably feel much better in the morning.

That was, until i tried to pay a visit the ladies before going to breakfast.

Try as I might, simple deed as it was, something seemed to be preventing me from carrying it out, for while I could see that all I needed to do was walk round the end of the bed my brain didn’t seem to register it and the more confused I got as I banged against the bed time and time again ,the more scared I became.

By now in a state of complete panic i grabbed the emergency button from the wall frantically pressing it till somebody came. The last thing i remember after that is feeling myself collapse onto the bed whilst shuddering violently before eventually passing out.

 Coming to later on and finding my partner, mum and older brother sitting next to me looking very worried i wondered what all the fuss was about. My other half showed me pictures on his camera and said “you’ve had our babies “but spaced out on whatever I’d been given I just smiled and nodded not really registering what he was going on about.

My throat was feeling a little tender and I recall asking for a drink which i savoured ,then in a spectacular bright green stream projectile vomited across the bedclothes as it reacted with the drugs in my system  before I blacked out once more , coming round to find my family sitting watching either the antiques road show  on a TV that had been provided and thinking, quite bizarrely given how poorly i was “ oh it must be Sunday evening “! 

 

 

 

It wasn’t until a few days later that I realised the seriousness of the drama I’d been starring in while asleep.

The heartburn and headache had been symptoms of the onset of pre-eclampsia, which had resulted in a fit that Sunday morning, my confusion being due to my body starting to shut down.

During the emergency caesarean, I’d died twice on the operating table losing so much blood at one point that technically according to one doctor I shouldn’t have still been alive but my battered little body apparently astonished the medical staff with its will to survive.

 Even the haemorrhage that occurred after my exorcist impression, didn’t keep me down for too long, in fact the surgeon who’d brought my boys in the world and saved my life couldn’t believe i was the same person he saw a week later eagerly going off to look after her new arrivals in the special care baby unit with as much of a spring in her step a still healing caesarean wound would allow.

So i want to say thank you now as i did then to the hospital staff who worked so hard to make sure my boys had a mum to spend mothers day with and that i got to see them grow into lovely young men because although i sometimes forget the big medical drama i caused all those years ago its heart-warming to know that this one had a happy ending.

And for that i am eternally grateful, Q.E.Q.M.

 

 

A MOTHER AND A FIGHTER - VERSION 2 - THE GIRL FROM THE NECK DOWN MEDWAY MESSENGER COLUMN

( There are two versions of this , this one is the one that appeared in the medway messenger on 24/03/14 )

Becoming a mother, TV or films would have you believe is a fairy tale where mummy is glowing and beautiful as baby sleeps contentedly in her arms.

The reality can however be a bit more of a horror story.

Back in 2002, after a year of trying, I’d discovered I was pregnant when it occurred to me  that maybe the nausea I’d been suffering from wasn’t just down to something dodgy I’d eaten. Taking a test, quite ironically on mother’s day i half expected it to come out negative so when the two dots confirmed I was indeed up the spout I was elated.

We visited my mum that afternoon and delivered the news by addressing her card “to  mum ...and grandma  “ and we celebrated with hugs and tears as she realised she was expecting her first grandchild ....

But we were mistaken, as my first scan revealed not just one baby but twins.

 

To say I had an idyllic pregnancy would be a lie. Chronic morning sickness, painful piles and water retention meant the only thing blooming was the size of my ankles. Add to that, trips to other hospitals for advanced scans when the detection of a slight club foot lead to the suggestion of the possibility of downs syndrome being made. It hadn’t been an easy ride but come the start of September I’d started to settle in to the role I was preparing for.

Reluctant to be treated like an invalid I kept active during my pregnancy, even choosing to walk up the stairs to the maternity unit the day they decided to admit me for observation after a raised blood pressure reading, instead of using the lift.

My stay at Medway was short lived though as a shortage of cots for my premature multi birth saw me shipped out one afternoon to the Q.E.Q.M  in Margate , the staff were lovely but alone in my side ward  I couldn’t help but feel isolated from anyone who cared for me as i sat there in my pjs and support socks.

My mood seemed to start taking its toll on my health too as I woke late that Saturday night with the most horrendous indigestion and pounding headache. After some antacid, aspirin and a good cry however I settled down again thinking “I’ll probably feel much better in the morning “

If only that had been true , as I tried to get up and visit the ladies , it became apparent that while I could see that all I needed to do was walk around the bed my brain didn’t seem to be passing that message on to my body. As I repeatedly banged myself against the bed, the more scared I became. By now in a state of panic I grabbed the emergency button from the wall and kept pressing it until i eventually felt my legs buckle underneath me as I collapsed shuddering violently onto the bed.

I awoke much later in intensive care to find various family members sitting by my side looking very worried, my other half showed me photos of two beautiful baby boys but high on whatever drugs I’d been given i didn’t realise they were mine and just nodded politely, asking for a drink as my throat felt dry and sore. I savoured it, and then preceded to projectile vomit it across the bedclothes before promptly blacking out again.

It wasn’t till a day later I found out just how much of a medical drama I’d been starring in

The headache and heartburn had been symptoms of the onset of pre- eclampsia , the confusion had been my body starting to shut itself down which had ended in a violent fit.

I’d died twice in theatre as they delivered my boys by caesarean and had at one point lost so much blood that technically i shouldn’t have still been alive, following that up with a haemorrhage later on in the day, so all fun and games then!

But my little battered body fought through it all that so that this horror story had a happy ending , I got to see those little bird like creatures grow into lovely young men and they got to have a mum to celebrate mother’s day with .

And so to all those staff who helped save me that September Sunday I will always be eternally grateful.

GIRL FROM THE NECK DOWN COLUMN - MEDWAY MESSENGER 24/03/14

 

MOTHER SUPERIOR

Of course while we’re on the subject of motherhood, I can’t finish this column off without a tribute to the most inspirational woman in my life.

The person who’s been there for me no matter what, picked me up when I’ve fallen both physically and mentally. Never judged me and always believed in me even when sometimes I didn’t.

Been my biggest champion, given me a good kick in the behind when I’ve wallowed in my own self pity and been the voice of reason when I’ve needed it .

So mum, I dedicate this column to you , not only as far as I’m concerned the best mother  in the world but also the woman who when told by a certain millionaire business tycoon on a visit to her work place  “ I own this store ,which means I own you “ turned and retorted  “ nobody owns me, mate” makes me hope i can always aspire to be as fearless and feisty as you .


GIRL FROM THE NECK DOWN COLUMN - MEDWAY MESSENGER 24/03/14