Thursday, 11 September 2014

I am my hair ....


You’d think i would have learned my lesson by now wouldn’t you?

Having been hitting the bottle since the age of 13 you’d think I’d know what does and doesn’t work well for me.

But before you start scrabbling around to find the number of the local A.A meeting ,don’t worry, for my addiction doesn’t lay in the bottom of a bottle of gin but in the pursuit of finding a new way to accentuate my beautiful plumage .

At birth I emerged from the womb with beautiful strawberry blonde peach fuzz on my head that my dad jokingly enquired of our red haired milkman if he had anything to do with!

 There’s no need for a Jeremy Kyle D.N.A test here though because as I bloomed into a walking talking madam of a toddler my fine thatch gradually lightened into the white blonde that he had had as a kid confirming once and for all that indeed he was my father.

Fast forward about ten years though and that angels halo of wispy white hair has darkened into that shade so boring it’s named after a member of the rodent family, mouse.

There’s a moment of hair excitement around the age of 11 as during the summer holidays I decide that I want to start secondary school with a completely new look and cut off the Status Quo style mane I’ve been cultivating for the past decade into a crop just like the one Keren from Bananarama was sporting in that week’s smash hits but then it’s another 2 years before the real hair experimenting really starts to begin.

As I enter my teenage years I’ve become obsessed by the 1950s and especially Marilyn Monroe, so I want to be as much like my idol as a 13 year old grammar schoolgirl is allowed to be .  I don’t go for the full on platinum blonde just yet but as my mum lightened my hair for me that summer I felt like I looked a million dollars. In actual fact paired with the worst home perm kit 80s money could buy I probably looked a bit more like a crumpled old tenner but hey, it could’ve been worse at least I never experimented with Sun In !

And that is pretty much my hair regime for the next 4 years but once I’ve left school and am able to afford my own dye that’s where the fun begins.

Over the course of the 90s my hair takes in varying degrees of the colour spectrum from platinum blonde to pillar-box red to the shade of deep purple that shocks the manager of the shoe shop I work in so much that I’m banished to the stockroom for the week. Chilli red , chocolate brown and the dark auburn shade that caused one young buck to try and chat me up with the line “ooh you look just like a swan vesta match “.

On into the noughties and leading up to present day we’ve had some badly executed attempts at blonde that turned a violent shade of ginger and yellow, an attempt at red that turned me into Ronald McDonalds twin sister and a gothic stage where my preferred shade of choice was that of the raven.

 However about 2 years ago, I finally cracked that perfect shade of Marilyn inspired platinum and decided this was the hair colour i was going to stick with apart from brief forays into mrs slocombe inspired pastel rinses.

That was, until last week.

Feeling a little bored with my appearance I decided that maybe I needed a change and turning to my latest girl crush of choice Christina Hendricks I decided that copper red was the way to go.

In my mind I would have everyone’s heads turning as i sashayed like her Mad Men character Joan around the area where I lived...In reality though they were just gawping at my head lit up like a belisha beacon.

It won’t be around for much longer now though it’s been issued an ultimatum by my other half; it has to be gone by next Tuesday as he’s refuses to take me to his friend’s funeral like this.

“Anything’s got to be better than that “he says “even pink “.

Pink? Hmm, now there’s an idea!
GIRL FROM THE NECK DOWN COLUMN - MEDWAY MESSENGER

 

DISHWASHER BLUES


After a week of puddles on the floor and lacklustre cleaning this week we finally conceded it was time to buy a new dishwasher.

The delivery date was set for Monday and i waited excitedly at the thought i wouldn’t have dishpan hands anymore due to excessive washing up and that the old rubbish dishwasher would be taken away in the process.

Or so i thought until the delivery driver took one look at my appliance and announced “sorry love i can’t take this away, it’s still wet inside, i can only deliver it , you’ll have to sort that out and then get us to come back out unless you can find someone else to do it.

Which is fair enough given after a few hours of indignant whinging the small print on the website  did indeed reveal this was company policy.

However it did feel a little like double standards when on unwrapping the new machine to fit it ourselves with help from a good friend we found that the inside was still damp from where it had been tested !
Girl fom the neck down column - medway messenger

Wednesday, 10 September 2014

THOMAS WAGHORN - AVANT GARDE ICON



                                IT'S ALL ABOUT THE CONE SHAPED GLOVE THIS SEASON FOR MEDWAYS BIGGEST FASHION ICON



Thomas Fletcher Waghorn  - Postal pioneer who revolutionised the mailing system by developing a new route between Great Britain and India.
Or for those of a Medway persuasion a.k.a “that bloke with the cone on his head “
 Rarely does a week go by without him sporting his jaunty head attire or adornments that would give lady gaga a run for her money in the avant garde fashion stakes.
 Why, only last week he was seen modelling a rather edgy piece of arm candy in the shape of a roadworks barrier and if my memory serves me correctly I believe one Christmas his usual orange and white titfer was replaced by a jolly Santa bonnet  .
While being a leader in experimental style and letter delivery may be rewarding enough in itself there is one job he does that means far more to those who pass him by on their way to or from Chatham.
And that is putting a smile on even the saddest of faces, so thanks Thomas, I really needed that last week and apologies to the old couple who clearly thought I was quite mad when I burst out laughing at the sight of him!


WHATS IN A NAME ....


When my mum back in 1975 decided to name her newborn daughter after her father’s favourite female singer she could only see it as the beautiful name it was.

Nina, a name meaning little girl in Hebrew, strong and mighty in native American, mother in Swahili and beautiful eyes in Hindi.

It’s a lovely list of things for a name to mean and almost worth all those years of being teased by people doing ambulance impressions at me not to mention asking where my 99 red balloons are, for the sake of having a name that’s a little bit different to everyone else’s.

I do wonder however after reading that given his popularity in I’m a celebrity some parents are naming their kids not only after Joey Essex but also some of his “vocabulary “ if little Reem and Creepysick are going to thank them some 18 years down the line when they have to fill in their first job application form .
MEDWAY MESSENGER -GIRL FROM THE NECK DOWN

FOOD FOR THOUGHT


NOW, you know me, I don’t like to rant.
Well, maybe just a little but this particular subject has really wound me up this week so I’m going to do it anyway.
Ub40, now they’re not really my cup of red, red wine but to a close friend they’re pretty special. For not only are Ali and the boys one of her favourite bands but were also that of her late brother so when she heard they were going to be playing at Rochester castle concerts this year she and her family could think of no better way to commemorate his birthday .
It’s like a sign she said, he would’ve wanted us to be there and eagerly awaited Friday 14th March when the tickets were due to go on sale.
Unfortunately with the tickets selling out within an hour of the box office opening, her plan to go and get hers after she’d finished work meant she was left empty handed.
Knowing how much getting one meant to her though I promised to keep my eyes and ears open for any that might become available.
Spare tickets were a bit thin on the ground to start off with and it looked like this homely girl wasn’t going to be able to see her beloved band after all.
However 2 weeks before the gig though suddenly every one in ten Medway social media posts suddenly seemed to be offering ub40 tickets up for sale.
Now, while I believe some were genuinely being sold on by  ticket holders unable to attend, there did seem to be the smell of an awful lot of rats in kitchens trying to  line their own pockets with other peoples desperation .
Tickets that had originally been bought for just £ 35 were now being offered for twice that amount and should you have the audacity to call any of them up on their vast rate of inflation they would retort with “well if you were a genuine fan you’d have made sure you got a ticket on the day they came out instead of trying to buy them on here, wouldn’t you?”.
Seriously do you not think that was something they tried to do?
Unfortunately for them though the person with the pound signs in their eyes instead of music in their soul managed to get to the front of the queue before they did.
And as for “being a real fan” , don’t you think someone who genuinely loved the band would only want the tickets face value back if they had to sell it on not expect a bit more with added interest .
Chances are, if you’re one of those people who bought more tickets than you needed  just with the intention of satisfying your own greed at this particular moment you’re reading this thinking “yeah what do you know about it, stupid columnist lady” or possibly something ruder depending on how annoyed  you are with me  .
But it’s not just me who feels like this as the band themselves favourited my ranty tweet about this very subject over on their official twitter page last week.
So maybe you supposedly “genuine “fans if they really are your favourite band that should give you some “ food for thought “ indeed .
GIRL FROMTHE NECK DOWN COLUMN FOR THE MEDWAY MESSENGER on ticket touting cretins taking advantage of other peopl
 

THEY DONT MEAN ME , JUST EVERYBODY ELSE SURELY ....


You’re running a little late, the kids took forever getting washed and dressed and now it’s a game of beat the clock on the school run.
They have to be in by 8.45 to stop that late mark going down in the register then you’ll have to burn some rubber to be sure that you’re ready to clock in at the right time.
You read the letter asking politely for  parents to be a bit more considerate with their parking ,  pointing out that dropping off as you stop on the zig zag lines at the school crossing was very dangerous and agreed that people like that were very selfish  and should know better ....but this is extenuating circumstances , surely the lollipop lady would understand if you did it just this once to save yourself a bit of time .
However those precious saved seconds aren’t going to be much use to you if your child doesn’t see the car pulling out behind them and ends up in casualty , are they ?
 GIRL FROM THE NECK DOWN - MEDWAY MESSENGER COLUMN

STREETS LIKE A JUMBLE ......


The street is a wasteland littered with the battered carcasses and discarded leftovers of the weekend roast.

Tin cans roll like tumbleweed down this quiet cul-de-sac  as the heart of the black bin liner is ripped open and Mr Fox and arch rival Kitty Cat drag their loot from this bountiful swag bag leaving its innards and guts strewn all around like a scene from a horror movie.

By way of payment for your magnificent hospitality, a generous deposit will be left in the middle of your driveway or path as a tip albeit less of a monetary, more of a squishy kind.

And as the sun rises our party guests will vanish quietly to whence they came and pedestrians will  pick their way through the debris of the banquet that raged just hours before , cursing those who couldn’t leave putting their rubbish bags out till bin collection day dawned .
GIRL FROM THE NECK DOWN - MEDWAY MESSENGER COLUMN