Wednesday, 8 October 2014

Ladies dressing room

There's a swanky hair dresser's on my street. I like the fact that it's there. I like its name. I like the font it uses on its sign. If I could afford it, I'm sure the experience of having my hair cut there would be absolutely extraordinary. Sadly, I can't afford the luxury of anything other than a cheap five-minute chop at Mr Toppers in Soho, and I'm afraid I don't seem to be the only one. Whenever I pass, the swanky hairdresser is sitting in a chair looking depressed and hugely dejected. I peer in and his face briefly flashes with hope at the thought of a potential customer, but as I pass on by, his frown returns. I'd love to be able to wave a magic wand and fill his classy-looking salon with customers. I'm sure he's a very fine hairdresser. Life just sucks sometimes, doesn't it?

Speaking of life sucking (in a far less tragic manner), lunch for me today was a dry pasty, shivering underneath a shop awning. There was a freak rainstorm just as I was walking from Victoria station to Channel 4. I stood, helpless, as people rushed about, searching for cover. I watched the market stall holders on the street desperately trying to wrap plastic sheeting around their goods. One poor woman, who was selling shoes, had an entire table collapse under the weight of rain water. There were shoe boxes and cheap stilettos floating about in a giant puddle and everything looked extremely tragic.

We had a good laugh at Channel 4 about the new BBC Music video. There are all sorts of rumours floating around about the BBC's decision to use the same location and the same song. One of the creative directors on the film apparently spoke on the Chris Evans show this morning claiming that they were the first people to discover the theatre! I'm convinced it's merely a coincidence. Others swear blind it's not!

As I was waiting in the lobby of C4, I could hear the Channel 4 choir practicing The Messiah in the basement. Their voices were echoing around the space like little singing devils floating around in hell!

I came back from the meeting with Uncle Archie, and we met Nathan in Kentish Town before heading to the gym, where we ended up getting changed in the ladies' locker room! Apparently a male engineer was doing something with the showers there, which meant we all had to swap. Fairly dangerous, we thought, particularly as the woman on the reception desk almost forgot to tell us! It was fun to see how the other half live, however. There were way more mirrors and hair dryers in there, and a curious little individual cubical, one assumes, for a particularly shy woman...

We came home for the final of the Great British Bake Off and saw our first Christmas advert on the telly, which I consider to be deeply unacceptable. No Christmas, please, until Bonfire Night, at least is over. In my view Christmas mustn't begin until the start of December. Else it's no fun...

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