Office Troll

All You Need Is Boobs

Well, almost. After 5 months of relentless political correctness at The Institute, my real frivolous self is desperate to come out. There is no shopping to be done at lunchtime, except for bagels and cut-price newspapers (the Daily Telegraph is the cheapest at £0.30, because it's pro-Tory and therefore A Bad Thing, so that's the one I buy to stick it to the man). Online shopping is arduous too, as people constantly come into my tiny, shoebox-sized office to use the printer. It's a hard life. All I want is a bit of glamour, a bit of fun. So last Sunday, when I met up with Laura from The Company (do you remember Laura? My ally and protegee?), I dragged her to Bravissimo and treated us to some new bras. After much pondering, I eventually settled for two of the most cleavage-enhancing, pneumatic-effect inducing ones. Here's what they look like. 

Eat this, Institute: you can test me every day with your noble actions to save the world from hunger, global warming and gender inequality; you can take away my rights to a kettle, a fridge and a full size mirror in the ladies'. But you cannot, I repeat, you CANNOT take away my right to supreme BOOBAGE.

 

Librarian-Chic

I was walking past Faith today when I saw the 'SALE' sign. So I went in and found a pair of shoes in a style I'd wanted for a while - I think we can call it 'Librarian-Chic'...or maybe 'Librarian-slut'? Oh well....here they are...

Helmet Hair

Now that I've discovered the Margaret Thatcher Ladylike Style, I dream of launching an entire collection based around her. Skirt suits (she never wore trousers), blouses with pussy bows, hats that would have made the Queen Mother green with envy. The ultimate accessory, however, would be the formidable helmet hairdo that The Iron Lady sported in the latter years of her government. I could make them in different hair colours (for different degrees of intimidation) and instead of being made as wigs, they could just be built around the frame of an alice band, to sit on one's head. Like bunny ears. Or Mickey Mouse ears. Or Gary Oldman pointy bits in Bram Stoker's Dracula.

In the meantime, I've made an artist's impression of what I would look like wearing the Thatcher Helmet Hair (I think my Photoshop skills have really improved, lately).

 

Obsessions

During a particularly uninspired lunch break a few days ago, I picked up a copy of British Vogue - an issue dedicated on 'How To Grow Old Fashionably'. Having recently turned 35, I felt I was being targeted. On most days I end up asking Laura the dreaded question: 'Tell me honestly. Do I look like mutton dressed as lamb?'.[The correct answer is, in case you wonder, 'of course not'.]

Anyway, I was flicking through the pages when I stumbled across a photoshoot of Margaret Thatcher by fashion photography deity Mario Testino. Suddenly, with the eyes of a 35 year old, I realised how stylish The Lady was. The brooches! The handbags! The matching gloves...! Suddenly, I understood.

After reading the Vogue article, I have become obsessed with Margaret Thatcher and her outfits. From the 40's and 50s dresses and Hollywood style hats, to the 1980s pussy bows and fitted jackets, her immaculately groomed look is a vintage lover's dream. In a stroke of good timing, I had recorded, only a couple of days earlier, The Long Road To Finchley, a BBC film on Thatcher's early years (the best ones, clothes-wise). All that was left to do was to gather a pile of tomes from the library. I immediately returned those with no photos.

My poor boyfriend is used to my regular but generally short-lived bouts of obsessive interest in a certain subject. He has to suffer the consequences. First came Scientology: I read everything you can find on the net, downloaded out-of-print books, learnt to tell my Thetans from my Clears and plotted about going undercover at Sea Org. The Other Half was mildly amused. Gradually, he allowed himself to be assimilated: I had him watch endless war movies during my War Phase: 'Nam to start with (Full Metal Jacket, Platoon, Apocalypse Now and all the rest), then Africa (Blackhawk Down, Tears of The Sun) and World War II (Saving Private Ryan and worse). I eventually ran out of movies but shortly afterwards I developed a different obsession, this time for submarines. So along came 'Das Boot', 'Crimson Tide', 'K19','The Hunt for Red October', 'U-571' and whatever I could record from the Discovery Channel. It was then the turn of mountaineering, with a particular focus on the 1996 Everest disaster. You would not believe how many books have been written about the 1996 disaster. I've read several already but Amazon keeps 'recommending' possible new titles. It's fantastic.

You get the idea. So you can only imagine how excited I was to find, in one of Thatcher's biographies, a photo of her in a submarine! The Other Half commented, only half joking, that it could only be bettered by a movie about Margaret Thatcher, at war, in a submarine that lands on Everest, time-travelling through Vietnam and WWII, perhaps fighting the Evil of Scientology in the progress.

Now, imagine the outfits for that movie.

Shoes!

My boss was barely out of the door - for good - when Lauren heard the familiar sound of a courier van door sliding open. It's Parcel Force! she said excitedly. And it was! I nearly jumped on the poor delivery guy, although I was disappointed that it wasn't the usual nice man with the gentle smile who looks like Andy Abraham from The X Factor.

Anyway, the shoes are officially here, 12 cm high, gloriously frivolous and utterly dangerous, and I absolutely love them.

 

A Good Housekeeping-Style Tip

I finally got round to wearing my new boots to work this week - after waiting for weeks to have them sent from the States and then receiving them just in time for Christmas. It's not that I was worried about the 4-inch heels or that they would be uncomfortable. No, the fact is that the zippers are really hard to do up and I knew that putting them on would take precious time out of my getting ready routine in the morning.

I finally braved it on Monday and my worst fears came true: after about 10 minutes of tugging at the blasted zipper with one leg up in the air I felt as if I was having an aerobic workout. And the zipper still wouldn't budge. I was going to be late for work but this was make or break. Then I remembered that the website girl said that running a candle along the zipper often does the trick. Only problem I have a phobia of naked flames since our next door neighbour's house nearly went down in a pile of ash because of a candle a couple of years ago. All the tealights in my house are battery operated ones. Fortunately I had one single candle in the house - an expensive scented l'Occitane cube in a glass pot, a Christmas gift from one of our bosses in France. Not the best shape for the purpose but better than nothing. So I got a knife and scooped a bit of it out, ending up with a crumbly mess which I then re-moulded into a ball.  Finally, I ran the ball of wax into the zipper. And then. Miracle. The boots zipped up. HALLELUIAH. It worked. I could wear my boots.

I can't help thinking that my life is becoming terribly complicated. I now have to carry a piece of wax wrapped in clingfilm so that I can put on my boots when I get to work (because I woudldn't walk all the way from home in them - it wrecks the heels). If I were Mariah Carey, I'd probably employ someone in the role of Boots Zipper Greaser.

Woah!

Reader, it worked!
I did buy the bra I'd seen in Bravissimo and I can confirm that it does indeed lift one's boobs to entire new heights. So girls, log on to Bravissimo*'s website and order one straightaway. And if you're a gentleman, perhaps your wife/girlfriend would appreciate a treat, after all, we're all fighting  the same battle against gravity...

*They ship outside the U.K. too

Shopping List

It's cold, damp, extremely windy and I still feel pretty rough because I have a cold. So what better way to cheer myself up than to order some new shoes and boots from the States. Here's my shopping list...

I already own a pair of boots like these, only without the laces...

....I just love peep toe shoes - but I'd better practice because the heels are 5"...

I've also discovered an amazing shop on Ebay which sells exactly the type of skirts I like - such as this one:

Whilst I wait for my goodies to be shipped from the States, lunchtime is approaching and I'm tempted to brave the elements and head for Bravissimo. In their latest catalogue they have a bra which apparently gives you ‘the most gravity-defying boobs in the world.'   

    I'm intrigued.  I firmly believe that if it lifts your boobs, it lifts your mood, so it's got to be worth a try.