Categories: uncategorized
Date: 15 September 2005 08:54:52
YESTERDAY I entered a weird parallel universe when I went to interview the head of a mail order lifestyle brand in Sloane Square. She is to laundry rooms what Nigella is to kitchens, and the stuff she sells is like playing house, but in earnest. She was lovely, but I'm feeling inadequate.
It really was like being on a different planet, sitting in a cafe in Chelsea with a woman who was earnestly explaining how everyone could have a laundry room (mmm, where, in our London flat?) and the difference between percale and linen. This lady is a stranger to elasticated bottom sheets (which I suspect she thinks are rather vulgar), and believes that there is something "not quite right" about blue bedlinen. I want her life. I rather suspect she is also a stranger to finding bags of rotting apples in her bedroom (mm, never happens, honest), and having a hall full of paint tester pot stripes that people voted on in pencil years ago.
Last night, rather pathetically and predictably, I came home and cleaned the house and did some washing, cos it didn't seem right to put the lovely free things she had given me into our flat. Even going through Catford on the bus wasn't enough to unconvince me that the rest of the world used pillow mist, linen spray, cashmere wash and the like on a regular basis.
In the cold light of day though, it all seems rather a trivial thing to worry about. And Mr Fishsoup says the linen now smells "girly". Think I'll keep the linen spray though, just to remind me that it might one day be possible to be a domestic goddess.