My family are annoying and odd, maybe your own beloved family have quirk or 6 too or maybe I am quite alone, Queen of the Oddite tribe. I, myself, have no quirks at all, despite old blogs telling you otherwise, mine are just lovely little things that make me adorable to my family, ahem, as you were...
These are this weeks "Why do they do that's"
Why, in the name of God and all things holy, explain to me...
Why is it my Beautiful Baby Daughter's ambition to dye her hair every colour in the paint chart? It's not even a nice Farrow & Ball chart, it's a nasty chart. Currently it is a wishy washy lilac, necessitating bleaching all colour out with peroxide and then adding dye. She looks like a pensioners blue rinse gone manky. Tis hideous and quite startling to the unsuspecting public.
Why must she always completely ignore the special hairdressers dye towel bought specifically to save my real towels? This time she used my en suite and ruined my White Company bathmat and towels, they have peroxide patches and look quite affronted and unaccustomed to such treatment, they are from the White Company and live in my bathroom, with the clean and tidy people. She can't see that there is a problem with a piebald mat and towels, they still work, you may have heard my reply to that smart a*se comment, you may have heard in quite clearly, even if you live in a different county, nay even country to me. And are deaf.
Why does The Beautiful Son think he is on holiday and can lie in till 4pm? If he's not going to university in September, he's UNEMPLOYED (in capitals for emphasis) and
Why does he think that fiddling about on the internet for an hour a day looking at jobs online is job hunting? Not in my book it's not, job hunting is getting your a*se and face vertical and outside of a bed and ASKING (ICFE) or begging people to employ you.
Much as it pains me to say it, as a mere newly wed I don't like to criticise the lovely mr auntiegwen, but The Beautiful Husband has some odd stuff going on too, maybe he caught it from us?, I know not but
Why does he wait until he is turning the corner AND changing gear to put his seatbelt on? Why not do it before you start driving, when you are not trying to do 2 other things as well, some people are more suited to multi tasking than others, he is not one of the chosen ones. I don't want him to die and leave me with them children, I know they're mine and all but I need someone on my team. And a little teeny tiny other thing...
Why must The Beautiful Husband ignore the hand soap at any of the 4 sinks in the house and use the washing up liquid in the kitchen? We have much more liquid soap than washing up liquid (ratio 4-1, in fact) and when we run out I can't quite bring myself to use Dove/carex/whatever is on special offer at the supermarket instead of the Fairy liquid on dishes.
Now please feel free to add your own "Why do they do that's" of your own in the comments, we may even have a prize for the oddest of them. I don't expect it would be an exciting prize but I am happy to come and give out to your nearest and dearest, I am only spectacularly ineffective in my own home.
Showing posts with label The White Company. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The White Company. Show all posts
Monday, 5 August 2013
Friday, 4 November 2011
Things that made your auntie cheery today
I love Fridays, truly I do, best day of the week for me usually. But today, oh my mercies, aunties wee cup of happiness overfloeth.
My morning got off to the best start as when I woke up it was sheeting down with rain and I didn't have to get up and go out. Indeed I snuggled back down with a humungous mug of coffee and some of my preferred porn, aka The White Company Christmas brochure, they have 20% off dresses and tunics this week, so it'd be rude not to really - auntie has ordered THIS
I proceeded downstairs still fully jammied up and topped up the caffiene levels and proceeded to source flights for an upcoming secret jolly. So far so good.
Then my lovely, lovely friend LOOKING FOR BLUE SKY sent me this
Now I defy you to watch this and not be cheery too. Incidentally, is it wrong that I now fancy John Barrowman as well? What is it with me and camp men? I started off with Alan Cumming, progressed to DT who is not the machoest (if it wasn't a word before when it gets typed in the blog of auntie it becomes one)and now John Barrowman.
Gawdonlyknows who it'll be next.
My morning got off to the best start as when I woke up it was sheeting down with rain and I didn't have to get up and go out. Indeed I snuggled back down with a humungous mug of coffee and some of my preferred porn, aka The White Company Christmas brochure, they have 20% off dresses and tunics this week, so it'd be rude not to really - auntie has ordered THIS
I proceeded downstairs still fully jammied up and topped up the caffiene levels and proceeded to source flights for an upcoming secret jolly. So far so good.
Then my lovely, lovely friend LOOKING FOR BLUE SKY sent me this
Now I defy you to watch this and not be cheery too. Incidentally, is it wrong that I now fancy John Barrowman as well? What is it with me and camp men? I started off with Alan Cumming, progressed to DT who is not the machoest (if it wasn't a word before when it gets typed in the blog of auntie it becomes one)and now John Barrowman.
Gawdonlyknows who it'll be next.
Thursday, 15 September 2011
It had to happen
It was only a matter of time, I mean me with my White Company addiction and my fondness for Cath Kidston fripperies.
I must be their target demographic but I have never succumbed for myself, when the children were smaller I did dabble and I was bought something once. But I held firm nothing for me thanks.
They wrote to me, told me I was a hard nut to crack, offered me all sorts of enticements. I ignored them. They emailed and whispered promises of all kinds of middle class loveliness. I caved.
It had to happen eventually.
So I will fess it up.
My name is auntiegwen and I...
sorry, I can hardly bring myself to type the confession
My name is auntiegwen and I bought a Boden raincoat.
The cliche of the middle class mummy.
Feck
I must be their target demographic but I have never succumbed for myself, when the children were smaller I did dabble and I was bought something once. But I held firm nothing for me thanks.
They wrote to me, told me I was a hard nut to crack, offered me all sorts of enticements. I ignored them. They emailed and whispered promises of all kinds of middle class loveliness. I caved.
It had to happen eventually.
So I will fess it up.
My name is auntiegwen and I...
sorry, I can hardly bring myself to type the confession
My name is auntiegwen and I bought a Boden raincoat.
The cliche of the middle class mummy.
Feck
Monday, 23 May 2011
We survived
So, the world didn't end and it's still business as usual. I'm sure we all enjoyed the skiving off part though but it was a bit pants to realise I did actually have to clean up and get back to work.
I am a poorly auntie, if I was a man I would have flu but as a mere auntie I just have a cold. I am feeling slightly under par so have retreated to bed (after finishing work of course, couldn't let my unblemished I've never had a day off sick record go, could I?)
I love my bed with a passion some people reserve for their spouses. Nothing makes your auntie more cheery than going to bed. And now I can take to my bed, sans guilt, in the manner of a consumptive Victorian heroine, I have the cough nailed. Please feel free to pop by with grapes and anything else you think would make auntie better.
And so, dear readers I shall leave you with the bed of loveliness in all it's glory.
Scroll down, let's have a little anticipation.
I paid The White Company a lot of money for my bed linen, you know, let's get my money's worth.
Ta da!!!!!
Middle class porn for middle aged ladies at it's best, I'm sure you'll agree
I am a poorly auntie, if I was a man I would have flu but as a mere auntie I just have a cold. I am feeling slightly under par so have retreated to bed (after finishing work of course, couldn't let my unblemished I've never had a day off sick record go, could I?)
I love my bed with a passion some people reserve for their spouses. Nothing makes your auntie more cheery than going to bed. And now I can take to my bed, sans guilt, in the manner of a consumptive Victorian heroine, I have the cough nailed. Please feel free to pop by with grapes and anything else you think would make auntie better.
And so, dear readers I shall leave you with the bed of loveliness in all it's glory.
Scroll down, let's have a little anticipation.
I paid The White Company a lot of money for my bed linen, you know, let's get my money's worth.
Ta da!!!!!
Middle class porn for middle aged ladies at it's best, I'm sure you'll agree
Tuesday, 15 March 2011
auntiegwen's guide of what not to do - decorating for numpties
We are still deep in decorating chez auntiegwen. As always, I started without a clear plan of what I was doing and then made it up as I went along. This is not clever and also frighteningly expensive. As I am public spirited to my very core and I am so fond of you, my lovely readers, read on so you don't weep for you will not make the same mistakes as your auntie.
Do not try and paint your room the same colour as the sky in your Christmas present painting. A trained and talented artist spent years learning to lovingly blend colours to get the irridescence of a winter sky. A wee spotty boy in B and Q with an hours on the job training is unlikely to be able to recreate the tonal effect of said sky, no matter how good the paint machine is. You will feel like a numpty stood there with your painting under your arm. Even the wee spotty B and Q boy with his 1 hours training knows he can only do flat colours.
Ditto in the carpet shop.
Do not think that you and your offspring can paint a room. You can but you will reach cross shouty shreikyness fairly quickly and what you save on a properly trained and experienced painter and decorator you will spend on gin, you pays your money, you take your choice.
If you do manage to get a shade of beigey pinky greyey paint you like, DO NOT (in capitals for emphasis) paint all 4 walls if you only need 3 doing as you are having 1 wall with feature wallpaper. I emphatically did not make a mistake, I knew I only needed 3 but I also knew it may take quite some time to get around to wallpapering said wall and I felt that it would look better meantime to have all walls the same colour.
If you base the whole theme of the room on the 2 rolls of wallpaper on the feature wall, it is then A VERY BAD IDEA to decide that you are not actually a feature wall sort of person and you actually like all 4 walls in the beigey, pinky, greyey paint. Especially if you have driven to no less than 5 branches of B and Q in a 50 mile radius of your house to buy the 2 rolls of wallpaper.
Check that the beigey, pinky greyey silk lightshade that is the perfect shape to match the bedside lamps and that you fall in love with is actually for a ceiling light and not a lamp. There is a difference, who knew?
If you have champagne tastes on a beer income do not even have a sneaky peek at The White Company website or catalogue, it doesn't come with an addiction warning.
When you actually succumb to The White Company do not add up what your bedlinen cost you, because when people ask you in shocked tones what your pure silk bedspread in taupey grey, your 2 sets of grey piped duvet covers and Oxford pillowcases and the extra deep kingsize bed sheets costs you will be truthfully unable to tell them, this is much better for your mental health. Especially when you realise that your pure silk bedspread doesn't actually serve a purpose, it just lies there looking pretty.
Do not buy an extra metre of pelmet covering fabric to make cushion covers and tie backs, yes, you will be fair away with yourself and may fancy yourself as the next Kelly Hoppen thinking your room will look very what swish and co-ordinated but if you have no idea of how to and no means of making these cushion covers and tie backs, it isn't one of your better ideas. Especially when you actually prefer your interim solution of your curtains tied back with the black and cream ribbons you get tied round your Links of London jewellery boxes.
Do not try and outsmart yourself. I have a tendency to live with things unfinished, this time I have tried to overcome this by buying everything for the room at once, new furniture, new carpets, new linen, bedside lamps, light shade, curtains (paid extra to be made up quicker) and fabric plus tonal piping for to cover the window pelmets and to make tie backs and cushion covers for the bed. This was ANOTHER VERY BAD IDEA I have spent more than I earn and I get panicky if I can't clear my credit card bill in full every month. I am now afeared of the big feck off bill shortly due from my credit card.
When your room looks beautiful, it becomes a sanctuary for you. Your calm and serene room awaits you every night, lovingly inviting, not just to you but also for your nearest and dearest. They also wish to spend time in the calm and elegant sanctuary. This unleashes your inner Monica, I now clean and hoover every day, my usual slattern has been replaced by a cross shouty shreiky creature who doesn't want people to walk in her room as it leaves footmarks in the carpet and the thought of people lounging around on my bed makes me ill, I mean their feet might touch my pure silk White Company bedspread! I now want a lock on my door as I know when I am in London for a few days they will roll around and mess my bed up and send me pictures of them doing it, with glee on their faces.
When you have finished it just makes the rest of the house look so shabby so you think I'll have a go at the rest... and so it begins... decorexia.
Do not try and paint your room the same colour as the sky in your Christmas present painting. A trained and talented artist spent years learning to lovingly blend colours to get the irridescence of a winter sky. A wee spotty boy in B and Q with an hours on the job training is unlikely to be able to recreate the tonal effect of said sky, no matter how good the paint machine is. You will feel like a numpty stood there with your painting under your arm. Even the wee spotty B and Q boy with his 1 hours training knows he can only do flat colours.
Ditto in the carpet shop.
Do not think that you and your offspring can paint a room. You can but you will reach cross shouty shreikyness fairly quickly and what you save on a properly trained and experienced painter and decorator you will spend on gin, you pays your money, you take your choice.
If you do manage to get a shade of beigey pinky greyey paint you like, DO NOT (in capitals for emphasis) paint all 4 walls if you only need 3 doing as you are having 1 wall with feature wallpaper. I emphatically did not make a mistake, I knew I only needed 3 but I also knew it may take quite some time to get around to wallpapering said wall and I felt that it would look better meantime to have all walls the same colour.
If you base the whole theme of the room on the 2 rolls of wallpaper on the feature wall, it is then A VERY BAD IDEA to decide that you are not actually a feature wall sort of person and you actually like all 4 walls in the beigey, pinky, greyey paint. Especially if you have driven to no less than 5 branches of B and Q in a 50 mile radius of your house to buy the 2 rolls of wallpaper.
Check that the beigey, pinky greyey silk lightshade that is the perfect shape to match the bedside lamps and that you fall in love with is actually for a ceiling light and not a lamp. There is a difference, who knew?
If you have champagne tastes on a beer income do not even have a sneaky peek at The White Company website or catalogue, it doesn't come with an addiction warning.
When you actually succumb to The White Company do not add up what your bedlinen cost you, because when people ask you in shocked tones what your pure silk bedspread in taupey grey, your 2 sets of grey piped duvet covers and Oxford pillowcases and the extra deep kingsize bed sheets costs you will be truthfully unable to tell them, this is much better for your mental health. Especially when you realise that your pure silk bedspread doesn't actually serve a purpose, it just lies there looking pretty.
Do not buy an extra metre of pelmet covering fabric to make cushion covers and tie backs, yes, you will be fair away with yourself and may fancy yourself as the next Kelly Hoppen thinking your room will look very what swish and co-ordinated but if you have no idea of how to and no means of making these cushion covers and tie backs, it isn't one of your better ideas. Especially when you actually prefer your interim solution of your curtains tied back with the black and cream ribbons you get tied round your Links of London jewellery boxes.
Do not try and outsmart yourself. I have a tendency to live with things unfinished, this time I have tried to overcome this by buying everything for the room at once, new furniture, new carpets, new linen, bedside lamps, light shade, curtains (paid extra to be made up quicker) and fabric plus tonal piping for to cover the window pelmets and to make tie backs and cushion covers for the bed. This was ANOTHER VERY BAD IDEA I have spent more than I earn and I get panicky if I can't clear my credit card bill in full every month. I am now afeared of the big feck off bill shortly due from my credit card.
When your room looks beautiful, it becomes a sanctuary for you. Your calm and serene room awaits you every night, lovingly inviting, not just to you but also for your nearest and dearest. They also wish to spend time in the calm and elegant sanctuary. This unleashes your inner Monica, I now clean and hoover every day, my usual slattern has been replaced by a cross shouty shreiky creature who doesn't want people to walk in her room as it leaves footmarks in the carpet and the thought of people lounging around on my bed makes me ill, I mean their feet might touch my pure silk White Company bedspread! I now want a lock on my door as I know when I am in London for a few days they will roll around and mess my bed up and send me pictures of them doing it, with glee on their faces.
When you have finished it just makes the rest of the house look so shabby so you think I'll have a go at the rest... and so it begins... decorexia.
Wednesday, 9 March 2011
My ladies car
My car is flashing her orange warning light at me again. I care not for the orange warning light. It is like a little harbinger of doom on your dashboard, a little flashing light that smirks evilly at me "I'm going to cost you money" and does the mwah ha ha ha evil laugh.
2 weeks ago I had to replace the brake pads and that cost me at least a pair of LK Bennett peep toe platforms or a White Company Westbourne duvet cover, 4 Oxford pillowcases and a fitted sheet.
Yesterday the evil orange engine malfunction light reappeared. Summoning all my huge and extensive mechanical knowledge it feels like another coil has gone. My flighty car may have already worn her coil out. Is she drving someone else on the side?
I fear my car is me in mechanical form and she is now tired. When she was bought 9 years ago she was never expected to go anywhere further than the shops. She was a ladies car, a Mummy car, she took the children to ballet, rugby, Brownies, music lessons, swimming lessons etc and me to the supermarket. She did little short trips 30 minutes at most. She was indeed A class.
She never had to do early starts, dear me no, she was allowed to wake up gently, we never went anywhere before 9.30am, the children were walked to school, I would return and have coffee and then we would be off, to nice lady places like the gym or the coffee shop.
However life has changed for both of us. I am no longer an executive wife who worked 2 or 3 mornings a week because I liked it. I am someone who has to work to pay for life. I need a car to do it.
Sometimes I have to leave at 6.30 am and drive 90 miles to be training at 9am. This has been a huge shock to both the car and me. For the first 5 years I had my car I only did 5,000 miles a year, I now average 1200 miles per month. My lovely car feels it's just too much for her, she's getting on for 60,000 miles on her clock and it's beginning to show. She wants to protect her lady status, she is absolutely fine on short trips but my long work trips are when she protests.
I didn't want to take the company car and the fuel card I am entitled to as part of my package. I love my car. But I can't afford the garage bills and the soaring fuel costs. I think I will have to reluctantly accept my fate of the company car, I can have an Astra or an Astra and there is no metallic purple option either.
My lovely ladies car will be passed on to Eldest Beautiful Daughter for when she passes her test. Don't hold your breath, she phones me and in tones of great excitement lists what she can do after each lesson, after lesson 6 she actually managed to get into 3rd gear and she can now turn right if there is no oncoming traffic, if there are cars coming, she pretends she hasn't heard the instructor and just carries on to the next right turn that's clear.
So reluctantly I will apply for my company car but I will miss my lovely lady car.
However if Mercedes read this and feel that they need the kudos that having their A classes driven by a middle aged mummy blogger with a penchant for The White Company, they should feel free to replace my lovely A class and I would be happy with any colour, it doesn't have to be metallic purple.
And The White Company? c'mon what's keeping you? would you not like some beautifully written bed porn reviews?
2 weeks ago I had to replace the brake pads and that cost me at least a pair of LK Bennett peep toe platforms or a White Company Westbourne duvet cover, 4 Oxford pillowcases and a fitted sheet.
Yesterday the evil orange engine malfunction light reappeared. Summoning all my huge and extensive mechanical knowledge it feels like another coil has gone. My flighty car may have already worn her coil out. Is she drving someone else on the side?
I fear my car is me in mechanical form and she is now tired. When she was bought 9 years ago she was never expected to go anywhere further than the shops. She was a ladies car, a Mummy car, she took the children to ballet, rugby, Brownies, music lessons, swimming lessons etc and me to the supermarket. She did little short trips 30 minutes at most. She was indeed A class.
She never had to do early starts, dear me no, she was allowed to wake up gently, we never went anywhere before 9.30am, the children were walked to school, I would return and have coffee and then we would be off, to nice lady places like the gym or the coffee shop.
However life has changed for both of us. I am no longer an executive wife who worked 2 or 3 mornings a week because I liked it. I am someone who has to work to pay for life. I need a car to do it.
Sometimes I have to leave at 6.30 am and drive 90 miles to be training at 9am. This has been a huge shock to both the car and me. For the first 5 years I had my car I only did 5,000 miles a year, I now average 1200 miles per month. My lovely car feels it's just too much for her, she's getting on for 60,000 miles on her clock and it's beginning to show. She wants to protect her lady status, she is absolutely fine on short trips but my long work trips are when she protests.
I didn't want to take the company car and the fuel card I am entitled to as part of my package. I love my car. But I can't afford the garage bills and the soaring fuel costs. I think I will have to reluctantly accept my fate of the company car, I can have an Astra or an Astra and there is no metallic purple option either.
My lovely ladies car will be passed on to Eldest Beautiful Daughter for when she passes her test. Don't hold your breath, she phones me and in tones of great excitement lists what she can do after each lesson, after lesson 6 she actually managed to get into 3rd gear and she can now turn right if there is no oncoming traffic, if there are cars coming, she pretends she hasn't heard the instructor and just carries on to the next right turn that's clear.
So reluctantly I will apply for my company car but I will miss my lovely lady car.
However if Mercedes read this and feel that they need the kudos that having their A classes driven by a middle aged mummy blogger with a penchant for The White Company, they should feel free to replace my lovely A class and I would be happy with any colour, it doesn't have to be metallic purple.
And The White Company? c'mon what's keeping you? would you not like some beautifully written bed porn reviews?
Thursday, 3 March 2011
Middle Class Porn
BIG HUGE MIDDLE CLASS MIDDLE AGED WOMAN PORN ALERT.
The older I become, the more I seem to gravitate to the the middle class lifestyle porn that is peddled mercilessly at me, it's in my magazines, on t'internets, I am even sent porn through the post, lovely seductive catalogues that scream, sit and stroke my subtly sexy pages and be immersed in my middle class world where there is no recesssion and everything is lovely. If I buy from them my life will be immeasureably better, I will be thinner, my children will be tow headed poppets, my husband will be lantern jawed handsome. I won't take it too far, we all know what my life and children are really like.
My name is auntiegwen and I am addicted to The White Company (and others but one step at a time) I like soft things. I like very plain things. I like things that last. I don't mind paying for quality things as long as there are no labels and bling and no one can guess they were expensive (the dichotomy thing that runs through my very core) I am The White Company's marketing department's wet dream.
I buy their candles, they do a lot of candles. I love candles and I always have one burning away somewhere.
I have their vases and fairy lights and Christmas pot pourri and wreaths. I have their vase that looks like a big fishbowl filled with their very fancy white lantern fairy lights in my conservatory, it is very what lovely. It screams The White Company.
I wear their clothes, they do a lot of grey, I am strangely drawn to the colour grey.
I have managed to keep my The White Company habit under some financial control. I started small, a candle, a liquid soap. Not all the time - just when I was feeling a bit low and needed a quick pick me up. I worked my way up through the ranks.
Until now.
Now I want more. I have the deep yearning for their bedding. Dear God, protect me from myself.
I so want the CARLYLE bed linen. I love the subtle striped softness and plainess of it.
I covet with covety covetousness the GREY CASHMERE throw and cushions.
I know it would be outrageous and obsecene for me to spend hundreds of pounds on bed linen. But the inner voice says so what if the children don't get to eat for a while. Or they cut my gas off. I will be cushioned from the harsh realities of life.
I won't feel it because I will be in middle class bed heaven, gently slumbering on soft as a whisper 600tc Egyptian cotton sateen (made in Italy, where all the really stylish bed linen gets made, none of your made in China for TWC, no siree Bob)
I will be thin and beautiful and in a grey slip nightie (oh how well they know me, everything in that feckin catalogue is screaming BUY ME) I will have a gentle peaceful life, I probably do yoga as well.
My bedroom is a sanctuary, I have fresh white flowers in an effortlessly stylish vase, my candle is beautifully subtle, I am serene and calm. I read improving books in bed with my soft as a baby's breath cashmere throw around my shoulders. My life is so chic it hurts.
I know it's not right for me to spend that money on bed linen but I still want it. I long for it. It's top quality porn.
My name is auntiegwen and I am addicted to The White Company.
The older I become, the more I seem to gravitate to the the middle class lifestyle porn that is peddled mercilessly at me, it's in my magazines, on t'internets, I am even sent porn through the post, lovely seductive catalogues that scream, sit and stroke my subtly sexy pages and be immersed in my middle class world where there is no recesssion and everything is lovely. If I buy from them my life will be immeasureably better, I will be thinner, my children will be tow headed poppets, my husband will be lantern jawed handsome. I won't take it too far, we all know what my life and children are really like.
My name is auntiegwen and I am addicted to The White Company (and others but one step at a time) I like soft things. I like very plain things. I like things that last. I don't mind paying for quality things as long as there are no labels and bling and no one can guess they were expensive (the dichotomy thing that runs through my very core) I am The White Company's marketing department's wet dream.
I buy their candles, they do a lot of candles. I love candles and I always have one burning away somewhere.
I have their vases and fairy lights and Christmas pot pourri and wreaths. I have their vase that looks like a big fishbowl filled with their very fancy white lantern fairy lights in my conservatory, it is very what lovely. It screams The White Company.
I wear their clothes, they do a lot of grey, I am strangely drawn to the colour grey.
I have managed to keep my The White Company habit under some financial control. I started small, a candle, a liquid soap. Not all the time - just when I was feeling a bit low and needed a quick pick me up. I worked my way up through the ranks.
Until now.
Now I want more. I have the deep yearning for their bedding. Dear God, protect me from myself.
I so want the CARLYLE bed linen. I love the subtle striped softness and plainess of it.
I covet with covety covetousness the GREY CASHMERE throw and cushions.
I know it would be outrageous and obsecene for me to spend hundreds of pounds on bed linen. But the inner voice says so what if the children don't get to eat for a while. Or they cut my gas off. I will be cushioned from the harsh realities of life.
I won't feel it because I will be in middle class bed heaven, gently slumbering on soft as a whisper 600tc Egyptian cotton sateen (made in Italy, where all the really stylish bed linen gets made, none of your made in China for TWC, no siree Bob)
I will be thin and beautiful and in a grey slip nightie (oh how well they know me, everything in that feckin catalogue is screaming BUY ME) I will have a gentle peaceful life, I probably do yoga as well.
My bedroom is a sanctuary, I have fresh white flowers in an effortlessly stylish vase, my candle is beautifully subtle, I am serene and calm. I read improving books in bed with my soft as a baby's breath cashmere throw around my shoulders. My life is so chic it hurts.
I know it's not right for me to spend that money on bed linen but I still want it. I long for it. It's top quality porn.
My name is auntiegwen and I am addicted to The White Company.
Wednesday, 2 March 2011
If I was on Twitter...
It would say
Monday evening - drive to B and Q in Northampton to buy 2 rolls of wallpaper for feature bedroom wall. Returned empty handed as they only had 1. Also v peed off at Waitrose as they had no fig and walnut bread. Oh the deprivation (hear that in Billy Connolly's voice)
Tuesday afternoon - spend gazillion hours trying to source said 2 rolls of feature (in my head now another f word) wallpaper. Find that Coventry B and Q has some. Drive to Coventry with TBS, on leaving the car TBS has pins and needles and waddles into shop looking like a constipated penguin (due to jeans hanging off arse showing feature pants)
Tuesday evening - as TBS had already fulfilled his helpfulness quota that day by sitting beside me in car and misdirecting me, I had to wash down all walls in bedroom ALL BY MY OWN SELF.
Wednesday afternoon - spend far too much time on The White Company website trying to convince myself that £400 for bed linen is a perfectly reasonable amount and I really deserve a cashmere throw. And silky velvety cushions. Some of you may be pleased to know I resisted temptation. For now. That website should have a middle aged lady addiction warning on it.
Wednesday evening - should be painting the bedroom ceiling. Instead am wasting time on here pondering the fact that my son has twitter and my mother has facebook. And I don't even have a cashmere throw. Oh the deprivation.
Monday evening - drive to B and Q in Northampton to buy 2 rolls of wallpaper for feature bedroom wall. Returned empty handed as they only had 1. Also v peed off at Waitrose as they had no fig and walnut bread. Oh the deprivation (hear that in Billy Connolly's voice)
Tuesday afternoon - spend gazillion hours trying to source said 2 rolls of feature (in my head now another f word) wallpaper. Find that Coventry B and Q has some. Drive to Coventry with TBS, on leaving the car TBS has pins and needles and waddles into shop looking like a constipated penguin (due to jeans hanging off arse showing feature pants)
Tuesday evening - as TBS had already fulfilled his helpfulness quota that day by sitting beside me in car and misdirecting me, I had to wash down all walls in bedroom ALL BY MY OWN SELF.
Wednesday afternoon - spend far too much time on The White Company website trying to convince myself that £400 for bed linen is a perfectly reasonable amount and I really deserve a cashmere throw. And silky velvety cushions. Some of you may be pleased to know I resisted temptation. For now. That website should have a middle aged lady addiction warning on it.
Wednesday evening - should be painting the bedroom ceiling. Instead am wasting time on here pondering the fact that my son has twitter and my mother has facebook. And I don't even have a cashmere throw. Oh the deprivation.
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