Guardian Girl

Best Liv came over last night to help throw away some of my pathologically hoarded possessions (this sort of thing is why I call her Best Liv [I also call her Little Wrenny Bolokov, but that’s another story]). As some sort of recompense I force fed her a few mountain ranges of chorizo carbonara and many rivers of cold custard that were left over from Sunday’s cake-a-thon. I also made the mushroom part of Hugh’s polenta feast and we had a little taste of that (delicious) before I decided to palm the rest of all this food off on whichever pals come over for fondue tonight.

We then got to work sorting through my infinite boxes of tat, some representative examples of which included a collection of small shreds of plywood, a startling number of ribbons I have no recollection of ever receiving, a tiny bag containing a button and a 1p coin, an umbrella cover stuffed with a pedometer and a hairband, and a very disturbing veterinary receipt from last year when one of my beloved cats had kidney failure and I had to make the heartbreaking decision to have her put down:

“PRODUCT/SERVICE:       EUTHANASIA CAT ONLY

QUANTITY:                           ONE

PRICE:                                     £28.13 inc VAT”

It’s not exactly soothing, is it.

Also, what do they mean by “cat only”?

We were up so late sorting out my rubbish that Liv stayed over and was able to take my photo this morning. I was standing, perplexed, in front of her holding a grey double-breasted blazer in one hand and a brown leather jacket in the other, trying to work out which one was more similar to today’s required outfit, when she glanced over my shoulder and remarked that it was a shame I couldn’t wear the peach-coloured towel hanging on the back of my door, since it perfectly matched the model’s jacket. And hence, I bring you today’s pic. Looking outside I decided it was probably a bit chilly to go out in a towel so I plumped for both the jackets at once. What with the orange plimsolls being the closest non-heeled thing I own to the model’s gold shoes, I look a bit clownish today, but I’m well used to that by now.

The blazer

The towel

Conclusions:

• Happy tonight’s dinner is the last energy-rich recipe for 10 I have to cook, for obvious reasons related to waistbands.
• I am now seeing my collection of c.1970s hand-me-down towels through new eyes.
• William Eggleston exhibition looks well worth a visit but the opening hours tally not with my work duties.
• A trip to NY to use the subway is not on the financial agenda.
• Acne interiors: if you have bad skin, you don’t want to fill your house with Acne sofas any more than you want to walk around in Acne jeans, looking for all the world like you’re wearing your medical diagnosis proudly upon your denims. In fact, don’t tell anyone but it took me a year to get over moving to Hackney for the same reason.
• What?!! It’s not my fault. Spots make you very self-conscious.