Tuesday, 29 May 2012

The Summer Time Clutch

"If you're fond of sand dunes and salty air," then you may also be fond of or at the very least familiar with the 'summer time clutch'.

No it's not a new dance wave that will replace the macarena (can anything?), no I'm talking about the bevy of women who normally balk at the idea of wearing anything below the calf muscle who will happily don a maxi dress because its sunny out.

Suddenly, you can't turn a corner without bumping into a pretty lass with Audrey Hepburn glasses, sun-kissed skin and a skinny iced-coffee in one hand, whilst the other hand is grasping a handful of material as they walk along in their designer flip-flops slapping against the pavement.

I look at these sometimes beautiful Bostonian women and want to stop them and ask, 'if its that long, why don't you take it up another cm or so, you'll have a hand free then? Or at least a wear a wedge? Either way I guarantee my love you won't be sweeping the floor and/or taking half of the dust home with you'.

Am I being a tad too cynical or should I just admit that I'm jealous? I know that if I wore said piece of clothing, I'd look more like Homer Simpson when he wore the 'tent dress' only with make-up on. Ah well, I suppose I can forgive the 'maxi-dress clutch' as summer lasts only a few short months. Perhaps I'll focus my attention on men in shorts; ah yes the knobbly knees, way too hairy legs...then again maybe not...

Tuesday, 22 May 2012

American Idol - Season 11

Tomorrow are the results and I really hope Philip wins. Oh and in case you missed this season, I'll give you a rundown:

A 100,000+ people waited in football stadiums, shopping malls, or the black hills of Dakota to strut their stuff - or sing. Some got so nervous they just squeaked in front of the judges, some made complete fools of themselves i.e. wearing odd outfits or very little and others well...they should have just stuck to singing in the shower. Guaranteed there was crying...a lot of crying.

Hollywood week - where the diva's and the drama queens emerged as well as some illness tormenting the larynx.  The groups bickered and fought, forgot the words, created amazing harmonies and then they got thrown into four rooms. Randy, Jennifer and Steven walked in to make or break their dreams. Guaranteed there was crying...a lot of crying.

Another set of elimination rounds where some who were lackluster shone and those that were great had an off day, but guaranteed there was crying...a lot of crying. The final twenty-four got downsized to the 'Top Twelve'.

And it's at this point I actually start to watch the show seriously. If I happen to catch the other build-up shows so be it, but I couldn't be bothered to watch sometimes cringe-worthy singing and listening to 50 odd versions of Adele's 'Someone Like You', Christina's 'You are Beautiful' and/or Donny Hathaway's 'Song for You'. Some argue it's the best part of the show; I can take it or leave it.

Now every week, I'll watch quietly and make my criticism's loudly (at the beginning of what the judges are wearing, and at the end about the singing) - to Hubby - who at the same time over the last couple of months has done the washing up to avoid having to watch AI. Hey, at least the washing's done. Result shows do my pressure no good. I often end up yelling at the TV about who's in the bottom three and then make predictions of who will go home. Normally if I say 'Bob's going home', 'Ted' will be the one singing his final song. Then I'll pipe up saying, 'yeah thought as much, he wasn't as good...' I've never claimed to be Mystic Meg...

Last week's top three was as predicted (by fellow AI watchers, not me I hasten to add) but we were all shocked when Joshua got booted off. Then I started in with the sage sayings of 'he'll be fine', 'he'll be another Jennifer Hudson' blah, blah...so I've voted and voted....and voted for Philip Phillips. If he doesn't win, I always knew Jessica would.