London Fashion Week - the legacy

It was London Fashion Week recently. Last week, it was the Baftas and this week just gone, it was the Oscars. We are surrounded by stick thin models and waif like celebrities (I use the term loosely) wearing designer gowns and incredible creations made of silk, satin, lace and safety pins.

They tell us that a version of what is on show in London fashion week will be in the stores within six months, and that it will be ‘the thing’ to wear. However judging by some of the creations on show I will need to grow another two heads and be about seven foot tall for it to remotely fit.

It is very telling that what actually struts its way down the catwalk bears no resemblance to the beautiful gowns that most of the stars wear on the red carpet (with the exception of Tilda Swinton, who always looks like she has been dressed by Oxfam, and Helena Bonham Carter who always looks like she has gone to the fancy dress shop and just picked up what was left that no one else wanted). Most of the women at the Oscars the other night looked fabulous, as you would expect if you have all day to get ready, a personal stylist and Georgio Armani on speed dial. Angelina Jolie looked radiant in a luscious black velvet gown slit to the thigh (apparently the thigh has its own Twitter feed called “@AngiesRightLeg”, which has over 12,000 followers – who are these sad gits!?), Penelope Cruz looked suitably Latin in scarlet lace, and Nicole Kidman shimmered in Ice Queen white with a big swishy cloak.

Much as I love the gowns, I wouldn’t want to go through the disciplined exercise and months of self denial that these women put themselves through to be suitable clothes horses for them. Any ounce of fat is pored over by the magazines (“Ooo Jennifer Aniston’s got a bit of a belly, is she preggers?”) and slinky gowns like that are very unforgiving ; one canapé or glass of fizz to bloat you out and everyone will know. Nor would I want to have to wear the layers of Spanx or whatever support knickers they choose as their particular torture all night – it must be so uncomfortable and restrictive, and if there’s free food on offer, I like to have room for it.

Fashion designers have a great deal to answer for. The London Fashion week designs will, in a watered down form, find their way into Primarni, Top Shop and River Island and the great unwashed masses of teenagers will be tempted into parting with their hard earned cash for something that is usually overpriced and doesn’t suit them just because the magazines tell them it’s fashionable to wear it, or they have seen a picture of their favourite celeb wearing something similar. If we all dressed according to our body shape, colouring and what suited us, the world would look better (much as they do in France or Italy, where they never seem to look scruffy no matter how poor they are) and we would all be richer. I can’t count how many times I have fallen into the fashion trap only to throw something away a couple of months later because it looked like an old dish rag on me (or I looked like a Roly Poly!). And I despair sometimes when I walk around in some local towns at the unsuitably dressed people I see, who think they are the dogs bollocks but actually look like complete dorks.

I spend too much on clothes, but I am trying to be more selective. I am now too old to wear most of the stuff on show. I don’t intend to grow old gracefully, but I do intend to grow old unfashionably. And anyway, by now I don’t care. It’s a waste of time and money.

London Olympics - the outrageous demands begin!

The London Olympics are fast approaching. Didn't it seem a long time ago when we had all the hoo-ha about us beating the nasty French to host the damn things, and now they are almost upon us.  

Personally, I couldn't be less interested. I never have been keen on sport (I was always the last kid to be picked when my class chose teams for games lessons) although I will watch the athletics on the telly with a nice cuppa and a pack of plain chocolate hobnobs by my side, and I do like watching although not participating in winter sports. And I will watch the six nations rugby when it starts this weekend, but that's principally because lots of nice muscley thighs will be on show.

The political posturing and grabbing for personal advantage has been going on for ages, and the press have been having a field day speculating how things can go wrong and what might fail. Also what 'Team GB's dismal showing might be in the medal table (Team GB - awful title!). The press really do piss me off when they do things like that - it's perfectly alright to be able to express a range of views but this is an event which gives us an opportunity to shine in the world and show them that we are not really a bunch of repressed, miserable, penny pinching gits who hate the rest of the world and live in a constant atmosphere of rain and fog (we are, but that's neither here nor there). How about a bit more positive news and views and some celebratory anticipation for a change?

However the latest showing from the staff of London Underground, led by the charismatic Bob Crow, simply beggars belief. Each and every employee of LU, some 14,000 of them in total, has been offered £500 each simply to show up for work during the Olympic period. That's just for clocking on, and would be in addition to any overtime payments or shift allowances. This payment amounts in total to £7million, which has to be funded from the fare paying public. Not only is it outrageous that this payment has been offered in the first place, but even more outrageous is that the greedy bastards have had the temerity to turn it down saying it's not enough.

How VERY dare they? The rest of us still have to go to work during the Olympics and we won't be getting any extra cash for doing so. Why should they be any different? The rest of us are expected to perform to the standard required by our employers as we would normally do, so why shouldn't the tube drivers? It is a disgrace that in these times of austerity, when so many of the people the tubes are carrying are struggling, that such blatent greed should be exhibited.

The tube drivers could have done themselves a favour and stored up some brownie points for when they really do need public support. They could have worked as usual, for normal money plus a bit of overtime and a few extra shifts, during the games and helped foster an atmosphere of public pride in a high quality service which this country at the moment so badly needs. Instead, they have alienated almost every single member of the travelling public and gained themselves some appalling publicity nationally and internationally for being out of touch, selfish and totally lacking any sense of a pride in their job and in public service. They don't deserve a penny of any extra payment they will get (and they will get it, because we simply cannot afford for the transport system to collapse at any time between July and September for any reason whatsoever) and should feel totally ashamed of themselves.

Are you listening Bob Crow, because you bloody well should be? I doubt it; you are one of the last of the old fashioned union leaders who thinks that they are entitled to rule the world because they give a few thousand quid to a political party and therefore can hold the country to ransom.

Once these games are out of the way, David Cameron and Boris Johnson should show their metal and tackle this problem once and for all. After all, there are plenty of other people out there not fortunate enough to be in a job at the moment who would love to fulfil their childhood ambition to be a train driver. That's an idea; let's sack the lot of them and start again. It may be the only way to get rid of the canker!