Fashion Critic

Well Jessie J didn’t come to the Brits naked, boo. You could see her underwear through her dress though, hooray! James Corden is a scruffy little shit isn’t he. You’d think he might shave before getting on stage in front of millions of people. I’m so becoming a grumpy old man! It’s odd how the ladies dress up for these events and men dress down. Rhianna looked really elegant, and so did Pixie Lott, all the ladies did. James Corden looked liked he’d just woken up in the gutter after a bad night in an East End pub. Will.i.am looked liked he’d dressed himself exclusively with items from a charity shop, and Ed Sheeran wore an expensive looking, but ill fitting, suit with crappy looking trainers. Is this defiance, rebellion, art? These people spent a huge amount of money to look like tramps. There must be a reason. Not all the boys looked awful. I noticed Olly Murs was looking pretty sharp.

And now I am going to slip out of gay fashion critic mode…

The local Steam Museum is going to have a sci fi exhibition. The boy desperately wants to go. I quite want to go myself actually. R2D2 and C3PO are going to be there. I think he’s a bit young to see Star Wars, but I’m looking forward to watching it with him. The dragon is not interested in robots or spaceships. We may have to make this a boys’ outing.

I am completely disgusted with the Royal Mail. I can’t remember whether I’ve written about this already, but the buffoons put a card through our door on 25 January to tell us that they called and a parcel was waiting for us at the delivery office. So I drove to the delivery office only to be told that they’d lost it. They promised to call me after they had searched for it and questioned the postman, but they never called. So I went back, and they told me exactly the same thing again, “we’ll search for it and call you sir”. But they didn’t call me. So I went round a third time and had a bit of a stampy. I demanded to speak to the manager, but he wasn’t there, so I demanded a name and number so I could call him, but they wouldn’t give me that information. They promised me the manager would call the following morning.

Astoundingly I did actually get a call the following morning, also astoundingly the idiot that I spoke to had no idea what the problem was despite me having explained it three times previously. So guess what, he promised to search for it and call me back, but he didn’t. Since then I’ve made a formal complaint online, made a formal complaint by letter, and called their ignorant customer service team. The online complaint was ignored, though I may have typed my email address in wrong. The letter was ignored. The idiot I spoke to on the phone did find my online complaint and gave me a reference number. That was over a week ago and I haven’t heard anything since.

I think I’m going to have to get medieval on their arses.

Oh wait, I have to slip back into gay fashion critic mode for a minute…

It’s London fashion week and as usual there are a number of outrageous shows. I was particularly taken by the Robyn Coles designer hat show which featured models wearing hats, just hats. Now that’s my kind of fashion show. Read about it here in the International Business Times. One of the models appears to be an ex Miss Wales who was is 8 months pregnant. It’s just a publicity stunt of course, but it’s sort of worked hasn’t it.