Interview

I know I am not alone in my current Obsession; Finding, choosing and then ‘winning’ a school place for my child . When you have a child everyone tells you that your life will change forever what they don’t exactly tell you is how your life will change. You are well aware that you will be tired (personally I spent the first year in a zombie like state), you understand that perhaps nights of painting the town red will be fewer and getting your stomach flat will take work. What no one tells you (maybe they did tell me but I wasn’t listening- I’m self obsessed, remember) is that you will spend the rest of your life worrying about your child; not just his or her wellbeing and safety but the choices you make on your child’s behalf. I was seriously lucky with my choice of nursery school (anyone in North West London I wholeheartedly recommend Ready Steady Go). Choosing the right ‘Big School’ has been a total nightmare for me. Maybe it’s because I’m really just a simple Northern girl out of my depth in the big smoke. I chose what I felt was the right school (that’s right I chose just ONE school) for my Son and applied for a place (arrogantly?) expecting to get it. I did not, I say I because I am now under no illusion  (FYI nor should you be ) of who is being interviewed for a school place it’s not your darling perfect little angel it’s YOU. In hindsight (such a great thing) I did not choose my outfit wisely; Black skinny jeans, black t-shirt, converse all stars, a Missoni coat and a TON of black, white and grey pearls. An outfit just fine for work in Primrose Hill, not for an interview at a very posh, conservative school in St John’s wood however. So my son has spent the last two years at a vey fine local state school. The class size is just too big for him now and he is falling behind, easily distracted and in need of more structure and formality. I find myself preparing to be interviewed once again. This time I shall chose my attire more intelligently!(I will also pray that my single mother status will not count against me, bloody hell it could , couldn’t it?! I just can’t obsess about that too).

  

READY STEADY GO 110 Gloucester Avenue 
London NW1 8HX+44 (0) 20 7586 5862, Cashmere Cardigan £249 Brora, Ballet pumps 235€ prettyballerinas.com.

The Good Schools Guide www.goodschoolsguide.co.uk .

Equality

Why is everyone so obsessed with equality and ‘having it all’ and the question of ‘Can you ever have it all’? I really don’t understand haven’t we gone past the whole equal rights for women bra burning thing? Isn’t 2010 all about choice? Hasn’t life been about choice all along? So, some areas of industry will always be dominated by one sex; car mechanics are predominantly Men and manicurists are predominantly Women. That’s ok though and it’s still a choice. As far as ‘having it all’ isn’t that a choice too? My idea of having it all is just that; my choices, my goals, my ambitions. And the pressure to achieve is levied by me. The media says models are too thin, turn the page to read; ‘Drop a dress size in two weeks’ while another publication announces ‘Women Still earning 20% less than men’. All these ‘headlines’ are there to pad out pages and give us something to talk about over dinner and at the photocopier.  There are an increasing number of men out there staying at home raising the children while their wives are working late into the evening and earning the big bucks. We do not live in a dictatorship (or do we?).

Chocolate Box Bra (burn it if you must- personally I think it's far too pretty!) £75 Miss Lala Presents, 'Manny' (Male Nanny) www.mybigbrother.com, Something Beautiful for God (Mother Theresa Biography) by Malcolm Muggeridge £10 Amazon, Fidel Castro Biography by Robert E.Quirk £17 Amazon.

Wardrobe Malfunction

What is it with mothers?  Why do I care about her opinion on an outfit so much that when criticized I run back to my wardrobe in a panic? (it’s not like she’s Daphne Guinness)I confess the outfit of which I speak was a tad on the gothic side; vintage black crepe day dress, 3 rosary style necklaces, a pair of red patent leather shoe boots (which my mother bought for me!) and a long black Westwood jacket. Upon seeing me she burst out laughing and quipped ‘who died?’ followed by ‘you look like a 90 year old Italian widow from the turn of the century’. Four outfit changes later I arrive at work (late) in the same jacket and jewellery having replaced the dress and shoes with dark grey (once black) jeans, black t-shirt and YSL black and white stiletto brogues. The really annoying thing, the thing that really gets me is that she was right. I’m wearing a knackered old pair of jeans, shoes from about 10 seasons ago and my look is now Rock Chic rather than Goth Granny and most importantly (?) a lot younger!

1940s Day dress £75 candysays.co.uk, YSL Clog £460 Browns, Rosary £6  Newsagent Quex Rd (Kilburn NW6) .

Letting Go

I wouldn’t say I’m a hoarder (I do have way too much stuff though) and sometimes get a little over attached to things; a lightweight black t-shirt from H&M that has so many holes it resembles nothing more than a rag, A 19^th century red toile transfer printed cow jug with a broken handle at the back of a kitchen cupboard that is neither use nor ornament, you get the picture. The big thing that I haven’t been able to relinquish is my Victorian deep buttoned velvet sofa; honestly it’s knackered and really, really uncomfortable. I’ve been going to have it re-upholstered for at least 2years but just haven’t found the ‘right’ fabric; do I go for crazy hot pink velvet? A French shabby chic grey linen? I’d have no problem choosing the perfect fabric for you, so why can’t I do it for me? I now fear it’s too late to save my dear little sofa, too far gone and so I will have to bite the bullet and call a man with a van to take it to it’s final resting place; the landfill depot in Kentish Town. I might bin that black t-shirt too!

1930s Velvet sofa £3,050 COUCH, Black T shirt James Perse £50 Studio 8 (NW1), Red Toile tea pot $39 thefind.com

Homeward Bound

OMG! Red Alert! A second 40^th Birthday party invitation forced it’s middle aged spread through my letterbox today. The first a couple of months ago I brushed off as a fluke, I couldn’t possibly be old enough to have close friends (who’s party I actually wanted to go to) turning 40! FYI I am a few years off 40 thank god and had always been the youngest in my social group, now what do you think that says about me and vanity? I don’t think too much about my age. I never celebrate my Birthday with a party largely because it’s early January and everyone is always all partied out by then. This year was an exception; one of my very close (and slightly OCD) girlfriends exclaimed with horror at my definitive I am doing nothing for my birthday that I had ‘TO DO SOMETHING!’ so, I let her organise drinks at Shoreditch house, it was probably the best birthday in years (thank you LG). So, the invite that has just reared it’s ugly head is not only in my home town of Newcastle-upon-Tyne but has the dreaded bonus of an 80’s theme! What to wear has led me to Obsessively watching Bananarama, T’pau and Transvision Vamp videos on youtube in search of inspiration. Weirdly I kinda feel younger than I did upon receipt of the 80s invite!

Cowboy boots £15.40 Ebay, T-Shirt £12.99 Camden Market, Now That’s what I call music Vol 10 £5.99 Ebay, Wham Bar still only 10p but a lot smaller than I remember local news agent.

Poirot

What is it about a globe especially an old one with a bit of patina (vintage dirt) that transports me into a Poirot daydream? Really, the 30s of the silver screen must bear little resemblance to what it was actually like for ordinary people; America was suffering ‘The great Depression’ and you couldn’t get a drink there thanks to Prohibition, Yet in design terms it was a period of anything goes hi design. Not even the humblest of household items escaped a fashionable astetic re-design. 2010 feels like it could almost be twinned with 1930, we’re in a non-dictatorial period of design and recovering from recession while longing for luxury. The 30s was recovering from the affects of WWI and the absolute heyday of decadence. I plan to trawl primelocation.com in search of a suitable 1930s apartment in which to live out a fantasy of bias cut dresses, cocktails and Nile cruises.

Vintage globe £65, Art deco toaster £175, Cowl neck bias cut dress £2705 Net-a Porter, 1930s Suitcase £425.

Freedom

Upon hanging up the phone with one’s accountant after a long lecture concerning the terminal illness of one’s finances most people would be prompted into drafting up some sort of plan for an economy drive; Sainsbury’s instead of Ocado deliveries, actually making dinner and not reservations, tube instead of cab that sorta thing. So why did I find my self-obsessing over luxury? Because I have delusions of grandeur, not any sort of grandeur either really grand grandeur I‘ve been fantasising about having really offensive Oligarch sums of money. The sort of money that gives you freedom. They say money can’t buy you love (and it can’t I concur) what they don’t tell you is what money can buy you. For me money = freedom and right now I could do with some.

Maserati Quattroporte  from £90,000, Westin Excelsior Hotel- Rome $29,000 a night, Lottery ticket £1 (well, it could be you, I mean me.)