Categories: uncategorized
Date: 01 December 2006 18:42:35
What Steve forgot to mention in his informative article on the history of the fishfinger was that Captain Birdseye's blazer somehow found its way into our dad's wardrobe. At least, that is what we thought, certain it was that Dad had a navy double-breasted blazer with huge tacky buttons that looked like pound coins. Mum favoured a discreet 'oh, you're not wearing that bloody thing, are you?' approach whenever a 'smart' occasion prompted him to put it on, but Steve and I showed our disapprobation by singing 'For I am the Captain of the Fishfinger' to a tune borrowed from Gilbert and Sullivan**.
*Steve, when you wrote your piece, did you keep typing 'fingfishers'? Or was that Just Me?
** Did any other children of the seventies used to find themselves confusing Gilbert and Sullivan, Gilbert O'Sullivan and Richard O'Sullivan?
Linking seamlessly to frocks, I'm currently keeping a look out to for something to wear to a family wedding in February (yes, I do have one to go to, I'm not just looking out on the off-chance). Problems with frock hunt include: it being winter and party season, shops are full of black and dark colours. These also suit my colouring, but I'm not sure of the point at which one starts looking too funereal/eveningy. I have in fact bought a midnight-blue spangly frock (gosh, how much like a drag queen did I sound just then?), but am not sure whether it will be wedding-suitable, or whether I will splash out for another dress - I also have the christening of my friend's baby sometime next year, probably in early May. I have also bought a little lace cardigan, which is black, but solves the other problem with buying frocks - almost everything is strapless at the moment, except for one or two strappy numbers, and trust me, no-one wants to see my upper arms. Then there's the fact that THE place for nice frocks in size 22 is Monsoon. Not only are Monsoon not cheap, but a couple of members of the family work for them and get a generous staff discount, which means a very high risk of the old cliche of someone else wearing the same dress - and she's almost guaranteed to be younger and thinner than me.
I mention this (and cause the blokes' eyes to glaze over!) because, forget about Mars and Venus, here is one of the big differences between the sexes. Spike will be wearing his Suit to the wedding. He wore it to the last family wedding we went to, but no-one will notice or care. All he has to do is find a white shirt which doesn't have a Prawn Jalfrezi stain down the front, and a tie which isn't either a Reader's tie (too sombre) or a Homer Simpson tie (I don't have to explain, do I?). Oh yeah, and I have to find myself a nice little clutch bag to keep the Order of Service, wedding card, room key etc in - men don't need handbags, you see ...