I’ve been sitting in front of my computer for 16 hours straight, so I’ve started to go a bit funny (like funny-peculiar), but I was in the midst of a serious writing-jag (like a crying jag only slightly more productive) so life had to press pause for a second while I phoenixified myself. I have four more for you, but because we like the pleasure-delay here at nikkiawesome.com we’re going one-by-one.
HERE is your summer jam, so get out your super cute balcony BBQ and chuck it in the back of the convertible Barbie-car. I’ll just pretend it’s sunny and I’m not completely insane from staring at this screen for 107 hours.
Of course I have lyrics for you – you don’t even have to ask, baby. I know what’s up. You wanna interpret it so it’s all about me being I WUV WOO.
Fantastic weekend post drame drame situations and chaotic update to Lion (nerd alert!).
Went to see the Damien Hirst exhibition at the Tate Modern and was so surprised to have been so affected by it. Generally I don’t freak out (even being a vegetarian and all) about provocative pieces involving themes of mortality, decay, etc, but as ‘A Thousand Years’ (1990) and ‘With Dead Head’ (1991) hit home while I walked between the cross-section of the Prodigal Son (Divided) I started to feel really quite ill. I think the show was curated in such a way that regardless of the high ceilings and ample light, the viewer is inundated with constant stimuli which impacted on so many levels it became increasingly claustrophobic – I can see why they limit the number of people in at once. I don’t want to spoil it for anyone who hasn’t seen it yet, but I highly recommend it. One of my favourite pieces was ‘Away From The Flock’ (1994), comprised of Glass, painted steel, silicone, acrylic, plastic, lamb and formaldehyde solution. Naturally.
After leaving the Tate, it was surprising that there was actually actual sun happening in London (it’s been pouring with rain in the shape of ANGRY for the last two to three weeks, so it was practically policy that everyone got themselves out into the sunshine), my partner in crème and I headed down to South Bank to get something to eat (we had to convince our stomachs/brains after the Hirst) and wonderfully we came upon the magical London Wonderground, which allowed us to drink prosecco (slumming!) under the stars and ride the carousel beside the Houses of Parliament. Ok, the H.O.P. were not actually beside us but Big Ben was watching and BONNNNNNGed his approval several times. Pretty sure Parliament begins their debate tomorrow morning as to whether I ought to be performing such feats of fabulosity on a weekly or daily basis during the olympics.
More Awesomeness occurred (naturally) over the course of the weekend, when during a shopping expedition was accosted by a Hong Kong magazine to rep London street style (OOH, London just hissssssed!) in their magazine, which I think might be called WEEKEND WEEKLY, which is kind of rad. Moments after, a Korean magazine ran up and begged to do the same. Jeez Louise, sure I’ll rock out for you, Asia. Thanks for noticing.
Dinner at the Hoxton Hotel was charming and delicious, but it wasn’t a patch on the ridiculously amazing cupcake that was violated in Spitalfield’s Market. Poor cupcake. Never stood a chance.
It popped into my head to watch Pride and Prejudice this evening (Keira and Matthew Macfayden version) and I sat there entirely rapt, being just a bit in love with Mr Darcy (to the point that yes, I did *squish squish* like Edina …from the eyes you filthy-minded beasts!) and somehow his name popped into my head in the Marvelettes’ song PLEASE MR POSTMAN, which is now on repeat in my head, only with “Mr Darcy” substituted for “Mr Postman” – we have already established in earlier blogs how my brain does these things, and I should imagine I will soon be one of those delusional individuals who imagines their life is in fact a conglomerate of feature films, literary excerpts and biblical passages.
I happened to post my nonsensical ramble about the marvellAUSTENettes on Twitter and something compelled me to search for Mr Darcy’s tweets – thinking that if I had once found myself a John Bender on MySpace with whom to have a fantasy ridiculous online romance with, I might as well go full-on to the man I most desire to render himself nonfiction.. and cue swoon. *smelling salts*
Anyway, as I looked for Mr Darcy on Twitter (and finding only TOWIE Lydia’s pet pig, which try as he might, could not engage my violent affection in such a way that Mr Darcy {the man} did. My profound apologies to Mr Darcy {the pig}, but I love another Mr Darcy {the man again}) strangely, however, when I performed this search, I found that Mr Darcy is a constantly trending topic, and it seems not an hour goes by where someone does not mention him (again, for now, and forevermore, I am referring to Mr Darcy the man – or literary character if you want me to burst into reality bubbles), which is quite interesting given the fact that the majority of Twitter is clogged up by Beliebers and the like.
I found myself completely obsessively looking for Mr Darcy related items on google and came up with a few incredible (and incredibly weird) gems, which are now monuments to the collection of pop culture crap in my mind – or perhaps better described as tokens of mentalness and mania that apparently afflict 98% of women worldwide who have come down with a scorching case of Darcy Fever – too little, too late – too literary, I’m afraid. Why why and a million other WHYs can’t you be real, Mr Darcy? Was Jane Austen aware that she had set up women for a universal lifetime of disappointment? Mr Darcy is the pre-Lloyd Dobler Lloyd Dobler, ruining all men for all women, forever. (Sorry, John Cusack. The boom box that is our intense imaginary love affair will have to press pause while I HOT TUB TIME MACHINE this shit back to the ORIGINATOR.)
Google searching for Mr Darcy (which is the title of the upcoming screenplay obviously making its way into the Oscar pool for 2013) has its weird murky depths, too. Like when you realise there’s that fine line between swooning over a character in a book/film/film/tv miniseries/new book/whatever and actually becoming a creepy weird recluse that does creepy weird recluse things like making handpainted dolls with lifelike handpainted features of Mr Darcy, and then the other lovebirds (Lizzie and Jane Barrett and Mr Bingley) so that you can reconstruct the wedding you had in your mind. Yes, this is an actual thing and happens more than once on the internet, and it’s not even Regretsy talking. This is a handsome, custom handmade Mr. Darcy doll, hero of the classic Jane Austen book ‘Pride & Prejudice.’ This doll is based on the 2005 movie version actor, Matthew MacFadyen. He comes “in box” wearing a 1797 style fine suit jacket of the era made of navy blue cloth and charcoal black pants, white shirt with long cuffs and ascot tie. He has handpainted startling icy blue eyes and handpainted features. He wears tall pleather boots and comes with deluxe stand. No, not with a deluxe stand - so that I can whisper all of my secretest secrets of true love longing and togetherness while he stares steadfast and constant into the abyss of my handpainted startling icy blue eyes and handpainted features?! (We’re just so similar, Papa.) There is also a full-size one, which I am tempted to email the creepy reclusey creator about to ask if He’s “anatomically correct” if you catch my drift. Cue uncomfortable winky face. Just kidding, I don’t do dolls (present company excluded), and anyway, I think they’ve taken a REALDOLL of BBC’s SHERLOCK and chucked it into some hastily glue-gunned 1797 gear. I mean really. Standards, people.
Anyway, irrespectively neverminding or, if you must be so blunt, purposely deluding myself about our faithfulness and constancy to one another (to inoculate against the reality of being in love with a popular literary character) I found myself surprised at his popularity with barely-literate tweens on Twitter, is where I’m going with this. And yes, my jealousy has cramped our love’s style, but he has his flaws too; scuba diving, firewalking, and paper maché-related events all have to be downplayed and avoided in that “No, baby, I mean, I didn’t even want to go, anyhow” fashion, which inevitably leads to suppressed sighs of forlornness.
In the beginning, he is open and honest to a fault. Darcy despised the hypocrisy, shallowness and pretentious of the wealthy social class and said so. He also was open about his dislike of foolish and gossipy people like Elizabeth’s mother. His first impression of Elizabeth was that she was not attractive and said so. He also gave his honest opinion to Bingley that Jane did not really care for him and was socially inferior to his station.This was not his finest hour. When motivated by “Pride and Prejudice,” being open and honest is less admirable than discretion and restraint. Darcy freely admits he does not have this filter. “I should have judged better had I sought an introduction; but I am ill qualified to recommend myself to strangers… I certainly have not the talent which some people possess of conversing easily with those I have never seen before. I cannot catch their tone of conversation, or appear interested in their concerns, as I often see done.” In his drive to be open and honest, he delivers perhaps the worst proposal in literature and when Elizabeth understandably reproofs him, he reveals much about himself: ``these offences might have been overlooked, had not your pride been hurt by my honest confession of the scruples that had long prevented my forming any serious design. These bitter accusations might have been suppressed, had I with greater policy concealed my struggles, and flattered you… But disguise of every sort is my abhorrence…” Elizabeth, also, openly admits she was wrong to be proud of her ability to size up Darcy and Wyckham so well. She calls herself “blind, partial, prejudiced, and absurd… Vanity, not love, has been my folly. Pleased with the preference of one, and offended by the neglect of the other, on the very beginning of our acquaintance, I have courted prepossession [pride] and ignorance, and driven reason away where either were concerned. Till this moment, I never knew myself.”
2. He is not defensive
Even when Elizabeth was mistaken in the facts concerning him and criticized him harshly, he did not defend himself. This is one of the greatest, if not the greatest of Darcy’s character traits. He chose to be silent. He chose to let his actions and true reputation surface eventually rather than be known as a person who makes excuses, blames others or fails to take responsibility for his actions and words. Granted he did hand her a letter of explanation, but it was respectfully and honestly delivered–without any defensive posture. “As she pronounced these words, Mr. Darcy changed colour; but the emotion was short, and he listened without attempting to interrupt her while she continued:” How many of us can listen without interrupting, especially when the facts are incorrect? “And this,” cried Darcy, as he walked with quick steps across the room,”is your opinion of me! This is the estimation in which you hold me! I thank you for explaining it so fully. My faults, according to this calculation, are heavy indeed!”“You have said quite enough, madam. I perfectly comprehend your feelings, and have now only to be ashamed of what my own have been. Forgive me for having taken up so much of your time, and accept my best wishes for your health and happiness.”Darcy has my utmost admiration for his restraint and gentlemanly response to what was a scathing and comprehensive tongue lashing given by Elizabeth just before he says these words. Consider just a sampling: “From the very beginning–from the first moment, I may almost say–of my acquaintance with you, your manners, impressing me with the fullest belief of your arrogance, your conceit, and your selfish disdain of the feelings of others, were such as to form the groundwork of disapprobation on which succeeding events have built so immovable a dislike; and I had not known you a month before I felt that you were the last man in the world whom I could ever be prevailed on to marry.”His Response? “Forgive me for having taken up so much of your time, and accept my best wishes for your health and happiness.” Folks, remove your hats–this is a gentleman we can learn from, even if we have said just the opposite in our own similar encounters.
3. He does not try to change her but likes her “just the way she is”
There were things about Elizabeth that were not entirely suited to a man of Darcy’s position and she spoke her mind in a way that could have brought criticism and did from the social elite surrounding him. To his credit, even before he fell in love with her, he spoke about her from pride and prejudice, but did not give her advice nor did he try to get her to be different from the way she was. Contrast this with the smarmy twit Mr. Collins who said: “… your wit and vivacity I think must be acceptable…especially when tempered with…silence and respect…” It is the depth of her personality and her quick wit that both challenges and attracts Darcy to Elizabeth and rather than get her to tone it down so that she would not offend the social class, he decides that nothing else will do and chooses her over the frail and timid cousin his family wants him to marry.
4. He knows how to listen
Men, as a rule, don’t listen. On the rare occasions where we do listen to you trying to explain what is wrong with our relationship, we are either baffled or too stubborn to get it. We then try to explain it away. We tell you there is no spoon, just don’t think about it and it will go away. We downplay it’s significance and we accuse you of being too sensitive or emotional. When we are at our worst, we give excuses and shift the blame to you. And ladies this is the real reason you love Mr. Darcy. He listens, without interrupting, to Lizzie’s caustic indictment. He understands what she is saying and it affects him deeply. He doesn’t put the blame on her even when her facts are totally false. He listens, he is courteous, he is a gentleman and he takes it to heart. Later we will see that he is also willing to change based on her input. Right here we will pause to let all you ladies still your beating, if not melted, hearts.
5. He knows how to apologize
When Mr Bingley and Mr Darcy are talking about the girls of Meryton, Mr Darcy says something about Elizabeth that she overhears and cannot forget for most of the novel: ‘She is tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt me’’ —-Ouch! This alone would put him on her “least wanted” list, but he soon easily tops this one. Darcy mistakes Lizzie’s sister Jane’s feelings for Bingley and advises him to avoid pursuing her and Elizabeth confronts him about it. “Do you deny that you separated a young couple who loved each other, exposing your friend to censure of the world for caprice and my sister to derision for disappointed hopes, involving them both in misery of the acutest kind?”
Mr. Darcy listens to her eloquent description of his disregard for other’s feelings and happiness and when he learns the truth about Jane’s real feelings, he feels remorse and remedies the situation. Mr. Darcy looked startled, to say the least. After a short pause, he answered, “I thank you, Miss. Bennet, for your apology. Though it was not needed, I accept.” He took a breath. “Our conversation last spring, if I may call it that,” he said, smiling a little into her nervous face, “taught me more about my faults and pride than I would care to admit. That I was prideful and conceited at times has been brought to my attention, and these past months I have tried to become more agreeable to those around me. I hope that you can forgive my abominable behavior from my past actions.”
6. He is not afraid to change
As the previous paragraph demonstrates, the man who was despised for his pride and conceit demonstrates humility and a willingness to become a better man.
I asked a lady sitting in a table next to me at a restaurant why women love Mr. Darcy (the Colin Firth version.) When I mentioned his name, her eyes went all dreamy and a smile came to her face. “Because he is vulnerable.” She said wistfully.
Ladies, you don’t care that Darcy is flawed, in fact, his awkwardness in his obvious infatuation, his bumbling of his words and repetition of conversation when he sees Elizabeth at his estate, his misjudged attempts at social interaction and meddling are all mildly charming because he is so vulnerable and innocent and you can change him!
Yes he insulted you. Yes he wrecked your sister’s happiness. Yes he says your mother and sisters act like poor white trash. None of that really matters because he’s crazy about you and he’s handsome and he’s rich and most importantly you can work with him because he listens to you. When you tell him he is being a jerk, he has a “selfish disdain for the feelings of others.” and he is the last person on earth you would consider marrying, he actually is sorry and you can tell he wants to take all your constructive criticism to heart and begin to be more like you want him to be.
Never before have women met a man who thrives so well under criticism. Mirroring a persons faults to him is universally condemned by every relationship therapist on the planet and yet here is a gentleman that does not get angry at criticism. He does not zap her back. He does not crawl into his silent box and sulk. He does the unthinkable–he gets right to work on self-improvement and does not give up on the relationship. Wow. No wonder women swoon at the mention of his name.
When they meet at Pemberly, he is a changed man. He engages her aunt and uncle in conversation, offers his ponds and equipment for fishing, invites them to a party and while he is awkward at it, he is pleasant to Elizabeth and extremely hospitable. At the end of the novel we see to what extent he has been willing to change. “Such I was, from eight to eight-and-twenty; and such I might still have been but for you, dearest, loveliest Elizabeth! What do I not owe you! You taught me a lesson, hard indeed at first, but most advantageous. By you I was properly humbled. I came to you without a doubt of my reception. You shewed me how insufficient were all my pretensions to please a woman worthy of being pleased.”
7. He defends her publicly
When there is the gossipy, catty conversation going on in which Miss Bingley criticizes Elizabeth’s looks, Darcy quickly cuts in with his unashamed admiration for her. ”…it is many months since I have considered her one of the handsomest women of my acquaintance.”
Nothing–let me repeat it–nothing is more impressive to the object of your affection than for you to defend her in public. Especially if it gets back to her from her friends and not from you.
8. He does something extraordinary and he is quiet about it
I’ll have to say that after watching the BBC version I wanted to be like Mr. Darcy. Not the rich part, although I wouldn’t mind a gigantic parcel of land and multiple mansions. I wasn’t even impressed with his position and power. What impressed me was the way he handled Elizabeth’s missing sister situation. He didn’t posture or debate or puzzle over what to do, he simply got on his horse, rode to London, found her, figured out how to make it work, took sole financial responsibility and swore everyone to secrecy about his part in it. He wouldn’t let Elizabeth’s father pay him back, didn’t want him to tell Elizabeth, and he had to listen to the air head mother malign him and instead praise a relation who had nothing to do with her daughter Lydia’s salvation. This strong character trait of Darcy’s that allows Wickham, Mrs. Bennett and even Elizabeth to falsely accuse him without defending himself while he works quietly to show his real integrity by his actions is formidable and for women, it is irresistible.
9. He can be engaging
He doesn’t know how to express himself, and that’s endearing. Before he ever tells Lizzie he likes her, he’s super awkward to the point of being rude despite the fact that he really likes her. When he finally gets his act together at the end and properly tells Lizzie that he’s always held out hope that she might be “generous enough to trifle” with him, I melt into a puddle of my own smitten-ness ~ a forum commentator Darcy doesn’t know how to express his feelings for Elizabeth, but that endears him to women. He is the antithesis of a slick, pick-up artist. Even when he likes her he can’t help sounding awkward and a times, rude and insensitive. He is the quintessential strong, silent type. What disarms Elizabeth is that when he begins to interact with her, he is quick, witty and pleasantly conversant. It’s as if he only needs an equally interesting woman to bring out his inner eloquence.
At the Netherfield Ball, Lizzie agrees to dance with Mr. Darcy and she discovers that they are alike in their delight in using their wit and humor to make a point. She finds in him a worthy partner in scintillating dialogue. “It is your turn to say something now, Mr. Darcy – I talked about the dance, and you ought to make some kind of remark on the size of the room, or the number of couples.”He smiled, and assured her that whatever she wished him to say should be said. “Very well. That reply will do for the present. Perhaps by and by I may observe that private balls are much pleasanter than public ones. But now we may be silent.” “Do you talk by rule, then, while you are dancing?” “Sometimes. One must speak a little, you know. It would look odd to be entirely silent for half an hour together; and yet for the advantage of some, conversation ought to be so arranged, as that they may have the trouble of saying as little as possible.” “Are you consulting your own feelings in the present case, or do you imagine that you are gratifying mine?” “Both,” replied Elizabeth archly; “for I have always seen a great similarity in the turn of our minds. We are each of an unsocial, taciturn disposition, unwilling to speak, unless we expect to say something that will amaze the whole room, and be handed down to posterity with all the éclat of a proverb.”“This is no very striking resemblance of your own character, I am sure,” said he.“How near it may be to mine, I cannot pretend to say. You think it a faithful portrait undoubtedly.”
Darcy says what he thinks and makes his point cleanly, laced with humor. When he verbally spars with Elizabeth, he is actually sparring with the clever voice of the formidable Jane Austen who undoubtedly sees herself in the independent and loquacious Lizzie.
10. He has a private reputation of kindness and goodness
We learn from Mrs Reynolds, his housekeeper, who has known him since he was a small boy that he is far from being an intimidating tyrant. She describes him as being good-natured, sweet-tempered and generous-hearted. “If your master would marry, you might see more of him.” …….”Yes, sir; but I do not know when that will be. I do not know who is good enough for him.” …….Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner smiled. Elizabeth could not help saying, “It is very much to his credit, I am sure, that you should think so.”…….”I say no more than the truth, and everybody will say that knows him,” replied the other. Elizabeth thought this was going pretty far; and she listened with increasing astonishment as the housekeeper added, “I have never known a cross word from him in my life, and I have known him ever since he was four years old.”
Elizabeth and Darcy find what is difficult to find in a relationship–they share a love of conversation with each other and while they are very different, each completes the other. He offers her stability and strength, she helps him to laugh at himself and the world. He offers her passion and loyalty, she offers him devotion and a lively wit. Together they become a formidable couple–a lively, independent girl sticks to her principles and gets the guy and a private, impassioned bumbler sticks to his principles, but modifies himself to get the girl. May each of us be as passionate and as sensible as Mr. Darcy.
SO… a few months ago I did the totally AWESOME (and totally perved-on) Frosted Awesome cupcake photo shoot, and the insanely delectable cupcakes and their incredibly stunning creator are being exhibited in A Brush With Burleque: An Exhibition of Contemporary Burlesque Art.
Additionally, Miss Follies herself had a fantastic writeup on The West Londoner, which features a big fuck-off photo of yours truly, which is always good way to start off any article, yeah? Read the article HERE or here, even.
Cake Follies, run single-handedly by Amanda Whelan out of her Hanwell home, produces hand-painted delicacies influenced by retro glamour, tattoo art and cabaret.
Amanda, who ran a vintage clothing stall in Kensington Market as a teenager, says she has always had a strong connection with vintage, originating from her childhood.
She said: “My mother was a very strong, glamorous woman who wouldn’t dream of leaving the house without lipstick and high heels, and she had a very big impact on me.”
Memories of Ponds’ cold cream, ruby red lipstick blotted on tissue, pin curls, rollers, stockings and stiletto heels all fuel Amanda’s ideas for the elaborate Cake Follies designs.
While the former Toni & Guy hairstylist has had no formal culinary training, she has honed her skills through many years of entertaining friends and family.
The mother of one transformed her passion for baking into a business last year, after painting her first cake. This resulted in her decision to fuse her three loves of art, tattoos and burlesque with cooking.
She said: “I would hold dinner parties but the cakes, no matter how good they tasted, never lived up to my level of required glamour, until the day I decided to paint my cousin’s birthday cake in food colouring with a pin up girl.”
Although Cake Follies is relatively new, it has already gained popularity worldwide amongst the burlesque and tattoo scene, with Amanda gaining many orders through her ever growing Facebook following.
The exhibition, titled A Brush with Burlesque, invited Amanda to cater their exclusive viewing night at Brick Lane’s East Gallery on Wednesday, after seeing a painted version of burlesque performer Domino Burlesk on one of her baked creations.
Organisers Sarah and Mark Bell are big fans of the West London business and said that while many burlesque events offer cakes, they wanted to offer nibbles that were a little different.
Sarah explained: “We chose Cake Follies primarily because they are painted, which we hadn’t really seen before. We thought that a little edible piece of burlesque art would be perfect.
“I think the Cake Follies cakes look beautiful, we like their intricate details and their funky designs. Most ‘cakers’ use piping or modelling as decoration but these are very unusual.”
The exhibition, which is running from 3rd May until the 13th May, will coincide with London Burlesque Week and the World Burlesque Games this month. Exhibitors will include British artists, photographers and painters who are influenced by the fast growing burlesque genre.
Currently Amanda posts out her orders to customers or they will pick them up from her home. But with her motto ‘world domination, one cake at a time’, the ambitious entrepreneur hopes to one day expand by opening a shop.
Cake Follies has also been featured in retro lifestyle magazine Milkcow, and recently appeared in a photo-shoot with model Nikki Awesome at the George Bone Tattoo Studio in Hanwell.
Amanda said: “As a lot of my artwork is very tattoo style orientated I thought it would be wonderful to shoot my cakes there, and also to me it was an approval from a well respected tattoo artist to allow me to do so.”
In addition, the Songbird Tattoo Studio in Devon loved the Cake Follies artwork so much that they commissioned Amanda to produce a series of designs for their clientele last month.
Amanda added: “I’m very excited indeed to see if my designs are chosen by people. I would see it as a huge compliment to know that someone was wearing my design.”
Nic Garrod-Smith, owner of the tattoo studio says the Cake Follies designs are really individual with great colour combinations.
She said: “We like cake a lot and we’d never seen anything like these! We felt that Amanda’s designs would transfer really well as tattoo designs, as they are strong, striking images with the scope for a lot of colour. All the hallmarks of a great tattoo design, really!”
I so badly aspire to write (and voiceover) my own narrative while Stevie Wonder sings in the background, making allusions to the brevity of youth, and my experiences of gang violence and childish naivety of “acting grown-up” are montaged by the once-perky pinup boys of the 80′s…
Or do I actually just want to wear Emilio Estevez’s Mickey t-shirt while drinking a beer at 10 AM on a Monday and think about making out with 1980′s Rob Lowe and Matt Dillon, exiting a dusty warehouse in Chelsea Harbour to accept a courier’s insistent buzzing to my bell (not a euphemism, but it ought to be), while slowly inner-monologuing my non-writing-into-composition-books… “When… I… Stepped… Out… Into… The.. Bright…. Sunlight…”
Does this instant emulation of fine moments in film (in the least convincing or appropriate capacity) happen to everyone else, or is it just me who has a strop in the middle of a backyard barbeque and spouted the “Sorry I’ve spoiled your Black Panthers’ party…” from Forrest Gump before spinning on my heels and holding my head far more highly then necessary (narrowly avoiding a run-in with the patio screen door in my dramatic exit) Gucci glasses holding back prideful tears as DVF scarf billows behind (just like in the movie)?
Do you not sometimes think “I’m not mad at you, I’m mad at the DIRT” when scouring your housemate’s pubes out of the bathtub (again)? Or when your best girlfriend is bitching about how she’s always putting on weight and ought to have liposuction but stops mid sentence to whine “I’m hungry, though… know where the closest drive-through is?” your mental response is this:
No? No one? Er, this is a rather awkward bit of insight into my mental processing of pop culture.
So proud to have known these artistic/ambitious/superinteresting folk back when we was tweens (I lived on the same street as two of them. Yes, under the power lines, probably.)
Essentially they have created a biochemical corporation that uses different multimedia outlets to reach their market… wait a minute, that’s just like in REAL LIFE… and they have targeted demographics that actually exist – so this super cool project “feels real”.. evidence? See the videos. I’ll let them explain it to you properly – but we’re talking biochemical apocalyptic shit… via theatre, video, web, social media. Totally foreseeable possible reality… Spooky!
They’re working on an interactive theatre project/fucking rad EXPERIENCE, no less, and you can see the details here but in order to pull it all off, they need $5,000 more dollars from you to make it happen. Are you up for it, baby? I will personally kiss the first one to whip out $2.5K on the business chargecard. C’mon ladies and gents, get out the pocketbooks.
Please give them some cash and support the arts, especially to create multimedia experiences like this. I wish I was in Toronto right now to get all up in it!
xx
(Oh and PS – yes, that is ME with the Mohawk, back in the day. I TOLD YOU IT WAS TRUE.)
I totally forgot to wish you a Happy Friday the 13th! Hope you all avoid murder today and black cats, walking under ladders, the raining of frogs, whatevs. xx
Not the most flattering photo I’ve ever taken and a bit heavy in the leg department, but keep in mind a Jason Mask adds 10 lbs.
I can’t even begin to tell you how ridiculous/utterly disappointing my experience with Aspinal of London has been. Like seriously. I find it really hilarious when a “luuuuuuxurrrry company” who claim to care “oh so very much about cuuuuussssssstomer service” act like you should be satisfied with being treated like shit while paying extortionate prices for things, and then be grateful about it.
To reenact this pathetic, two-month-long-display of fuckery masquerading as customer service, we’ll need some actors. (Someone cue Tim Curry and that bitch from PRETTY WOMAN who’s all no-uh-uh-faces at Julia Roberts in LE BOUTIQUE FAN-Cee ’cause they’re about to play the part of dickhead shopgirls 1 and 2.)
So I had my gorgeous Chloe keyholder stolen and rather than just cleverly replace it with a gorgeous new one from a brand that isn’t ridiculous, I decided to try something new and buy something from Aspinal of London (or AssholeFAIL of London, if you prefer) and selected a keyring that was all “meh, you’ll do.” Seeing as I’d just had my keys nicked, near my house, my bank and travelcards along with them, and to top it all off it was fucking CHLOE, I wanted something to make mommy happy. My friend suggested this brand, except they only had the item in a tragic powder-pink with silver hardware, which just sounds dire, don’t bother to imagine it further unless you want to buy a large belt buckle and some flares and further embarrass yourself. I select it in Brown Croc and gold hardware, pay £50.00 (or thereabouts) for an item that I’m told will be sent out in two days (which I was okay with, because it took a week to get the stupid bank card sent out and everything – but I was making do with the stupid situation of my replacement key trailing down into the bottom of my bag every stupid day which was massively annoying, especially when you’ve just paid £50.00 to NOT have that happen).
Fast forward a week and a half and I’d still not received it. So I call head office to ask “uh, where is my item?” which they can’t answer and tell me to call the store. I do, and some dude answers like “HMMM I can’t seem to find your order, regardless of the order reference number you are providing me with.” He says “I’ll call you back” and then never does. Four days later, I have to call back again and explain this, AGAIN, to another ASS-ociate, who’s all “Fa fa fa fa fa” (that’s the sound of faffing about trying to sound really fancy while you make £7.20/hr in a shopping centre) “Oh my,” she says, “I’m simply ever so distressed that you have been subjected to such terrible customer service,” to which I’m all “YEAH, ME TOO.” She said she’s going to sort it out and get the item customized for me, which I was like “damn straight” about. Like, sorry, Luxury Goods Company, the price you pay for ME paying that price in the first place is not being completely SHIT at selling things. That’s why you get to charge LOTS OF MONEY for items of arguable “quality”.
So she’s said the “I’m Sowwy” and I’m semi-satisfied, and I’m set away to wait for my fucking keyholder to finally be sent out not TWO, but FIFTEEN days later. Does it show up? JE PENSE QUE “DUH”. I call in to say “uh, where is my keyholder” like 19 days later, and the GENERAL MANAGER of the store picks up and takes approximately 150 hours to find my order, which he then tells me is STILL IN THE STORE. Like SERIOUSLY, what the fuck, right? Like nobody else would be pissed off at this point? I explain to him that I’m not happy and he gets all SNAPPY SHOPGIRL BITCHY at me and is all “look, I’M trying to HELP you,” which seriously makes me wonder if working in RETAIL causes men to MENSTRUATE and then tells me I can’t complain about this shitty service – unless it’s in an email addressed to him. Like super bitchily. He then says “Look, do you want me to send it out or not?” all HOLDING MY KEYRING HOSTAGE #WTF. No, I want to just pay for it and have it kept safe in the store you DICK.
So fancy retail salesman gets all huffy and says “I am going to send it out myself” in that way that makes you wonder HOW MUCH SPIT is going to be in my salad if I send it back. I call head office and make a huge complaint, which they then ask me for in writing. He then called me and acted totally SOCIALLY INEPT on the phone, which of course I mention in my complaint. An Extract? Oh, OKAY:
I had a phone call about 14:00:00 today and said “Hello?” “Nikki? I’ts Jamal” (or whatever his name is.) I paused and had no idea who was calling me. An awkward silence ensued. He finally identified himself as the General Manager at Aspinal and told me he was calling to say that he had sent the item off and that it was going to arrive by 13:00:00, Thursday February 16th, Special Delivery. He also said that he had included a 10% off voucher with my purchase. I thanked him and said goodbye.
To be very honest with you, my first thought was that it was hilarious that he would offer me 10% off a purchase I would never make after my treatment at that store. My second thought was that he was trying to smooth things over so that I would not complain about his treatment and the overall unsatisfactory experience of Aspinal Westfield. Finally I thought how weird is it that this man would call my mobile as though he was someone I knew, call me by my first name like we are friends and like he hasn’t just been completely rude to me, and act like he was making some huge effort by enclosing some rubbish voucher? I had previously associated the brand with luxury and fine treatment, and now feel like it’s awkward and inept staff hawking goods that never actually arrive! Is this a luxury goods brand or an East-end market stall!?
Guess what’s AWESOME? This confirmed-BY-ASPINAL-HEAD-OFFICE “KNOB” of a manager can’t MANAGE sending a fucking package out, because following the next day, when I sat and waited for it to arrive and didn’t, I called Assholepinal AGAIN to say “where the fuck is my package that I’ve canceled my whole day to WAIT FOR” and girlfriend’s like “oh we HAVE IT ON RECORD that it was sent out and YOU WEREN’T THERE.” I’m like bitch, please, and decide the only way to get this stupid thing sorted out is to go to the Post Office and pick it up myself. And I give Postman Pat my name and address, and there’s no package. This fuckery goes on for 20 minutes while I explain that I have the tracking number and he finally retrieves it from the depths of the Royal Mail. AND GUESS WHAT – He can’t give it to me because the dumbshit shopgirl/man at Aspinal addressed it to MRS NIKKI at a completely wrong ADRESS. Like seriously? Who writes MEESUS NEEKEE on a parcel? FROM A “LUXURY GOODS” CO.? Want more hilarity? Even when GIRLFRIEND calls from Aspinal Head Office to say “FA FA FA FA FA MISUNDERSTANDING,” Postman Pat’s like “Sorry babe, we’re sending it back to Belfast to be DESTROYED.”
So this generated some response, and I find myself having to have hours and hours of further conversations with Asssholepinal of LonDON’T (like seriously this is going on and on and on) because they then send me ANOTHER stupid keyholder in the post and then I have to have all these “chats” with various members of their Head Office (like hours and hours and hours) when the stupid keyholder arrives at the end of FEBRUARY (um yeah SO gonna buy that £500.00 handbag next, right? Fuck you and your 10% off voucher that PS WAS DESTROYED IN BELFAST) and i’m STILL having conversations with then until on March 9th, the head of retail calls me, makes me go through the WHOLE store AGAIN for like the BILLIONTH time and finally said “OKAY, What can I do to “make this go away”? I’d like to give you a handbag….No, IN FACT… I want to meet you… PERSONALLY, in store, and go shopping WITH YOU.”
That sounds like HAPPY PRESENTS MAKE BAD THINGS BE QUIET NOW to me, what does it sound like to you? So she proposes dates, so that I can come down to their prestigious flagship store because the Chairman, Iain Burton, she said, would be simply horrified hooooooorrrrrrified about all this and she was mortified and blah blah blah. Like the maitre’d of afternoon tea at the Savoy just realized a profiterole came out shaped like an oblong and offended the queen. I cancel MY DAY/STUDIO to accommodate meeting her – which she then cancels! I get a note that says I’ve sent you a gift to make up for this.
So guess what arrives!? A shitty leather wallet that’s missing the little silver logo (basically 100% from the discount bin) and ANOTHER FUCKING KEYCHAIN! Like HMMMM lets just look around for bullshit scraps of NAFF we can send like it’s an apology to get out of having to do anything about this. My friends were like, um, are you serious, THAT SUCKS.
I sent them an email that said:
In my position, would you ladies not want to sarcastically ask “Oh, were there not any sale/faulty items or surplus stock in the brown croc?“ It also just feels a bit ridiculous as well to be given another keychain (particularly one that seems to have no function aside from showing off the Aspinal branding). I don’t quite understand the logic. Am I supposed to give that to a friend to introduce them to the brand?
I feel really perplexed/dissatisfied, if I’m very honest with you. I wouldn’t have generally had any “hopes up” or anything, but when someone says “we’re going to the Ritz” and then, last-minute, says “Oh actually, it’s the Best Western, and uh, we’re downgrading you to a single room” one tends to feel rather disappointed. You’ve said “Can I give you a handbag?” and sent me a really unimpressive, faulty purse which doesn’t even aim to correlate to my taste, and a matching (second, utterly superfluous) keyring, to make up for the key-holder I have said I already feel like binning after this whole mess.
So then they get girl-at-head-office-who-is-not-a-director to call me and say “i’m sorry.. I must have… terrible taste… perhaps I should arrange to have it TAKEN BACK” and I was like, taken back and WHAT? at point she gets all “um/er” because I think she thought I was going to be guilt tripped into the whole “gift horse” thing… but bitch, the GIFT HORSE you said you were sending me was a HANDBAG not a KEYCHAIN AND A CRAPPY BARGAIN BIN WALLET! She clearly cannot answer anything without a superior feeding her cue card bullshit, and after pressing “mute” on the phone 50 times, then says that essentially that the only thing Assholepinal will offer is to REMOVE THE UNSIGHTLY WALLET AND KEYCHAIN FROM MY PRESENCE. We say “bye”. I write this:
I appreciate the fact and sympathize with Rachael for having been put in the awkward position of having to “explain” that, and be on the other end of the phone with someone who is now quite upset (to put it lightly). However, when I told her how I honestly feel; as though I have been fobbed off with a gift-with-purchase-looking keyring (that really, really seems like a pretty dumb thing to send someone who just bought a key-holder with the space for several keys on it) and a may-or-may-not-be-current product (which was not at all in line with what was offered to me by Jill during our last conversation)…she responded, “well, I wouldn’t want you to have something you don’t like, so I can arrange to have it collected.” I asked Rachael to explain what she meant clearly, and told her I was very tired of this, was tired in general and asked, “will anyone be in touch with me? Is it like, have this or have a kick in the teeth?” She said she didn’t think it was “likely to go further if I chose to return the purse.” I told her that was actually hilarious, and asked if we both wanted to laugh at how pathetic that sounded. Especially in light of the “Oh Iain Burton would simply be just horrified” story I’d been sold the last time we spoke…. I told her it was like getting the free Lancome GWP as a Valentine’s gift and having to pretend to be happy. I further asked her again to explain to me what she was saying about “if I chose to send the product back,” and told her it felt like it was a “you can eat your broccoli, or you can starve” kind of an offer. It was infuriating to be placed on hold during her “coughing fits” and call me suspicious/100% psychic, but I really don’t buy it.
So guess what’s happened now? I get a free, all expenses paid GUILT TRIP from this retail manager who totally fakes this story that I told her I had wanted to go down to the Aspinal Flagship store not for a freebie WE’RE SORRY SHOPPING TRIP – but so that I can MAKE A STAND FOR LUXURY SHOPPERS EVERYWHERE!!!! and acted all like her nose was out of joint because SHE THOUGHT I WAS A REAL GENUINE LADY WHO CARED ENOUGH ABOUT THE BRAND TO TELL THEM ABOUT HOW SHITTY THEIR SERVICE IS!!!! And she CC’d me in with the managing director to make up this TOTAL BULLSHIT. So here you are, readers, complainers and general OH FFSers, my final paragraphs.
I think it’s completely absurd that you have fabricated this bizarre story of me wanting to come in-person to your store “to tell my story” (particularly as I had already wasted hours if not weeks indicating to your company how dire your level of customer service is), as though I have nothing better to do with my time – which I have indicated to you has been consistently disregarded by Aspinal of London. Why on earth would I do such a thing – scheduling a meeting with a the retail director of a company to fine-tune a luxury brand’s lack of basic customer service? It’s utterly ridiculous. Do you think I should next call Louis Vuitton and propose the national sales manager and I pop down to Caffe Nero and discuss their branding? That is complete fabrication and hilarious.
I told Sue on Friday March 16th, 2012, that I felt as though I was being pressured and “embarrassed” (by her suggestion that I was not “genuine”) into being satisfied with “this gift” I have been sent as an apology – after being invited to choose an item of higher value by Jill, further being invited to “go shopping” with Jill at your flagship store after she said she wanted to meet me personally, then being canceled on, after having altered my schedule to accommodate Jill’s schedule (which I have always maintained was not a problem even though it inconvenienced me greatly), then finally fobbed off with a product which Sue kindly valued for me at £135.00. This is the value of my time, my aggravation, my consistent patience with your inconsistency of service, and which is then, in my opinion, thrown in my face at the end of over 50 days of being patient and considerate with Aspinal of London, and all of you as individuals, when I finally get actually upset.
I went through the ridiculous situation I have outlined above. I have further attached all my email correspondence with Rachel, Sue and Jill, which show how polite and warm I was with them despite Aspinal of London’s failure to do anything but repeatedly waste my time over and over, and which I will be happy to post publicly, because this story is priceless, probably worth at least a couple grand’s worth of keychains.
If Aspinal of London is content that I should be grateful after this consistent maltreatment, I certainly don’t wish to argue it further. I will forever be grateful for the hilarious story of your shoddy customer service and inability to deliver on promises – which I’m sure will make me laugh for years to come.
HI, KIDS.
