Look at their ties! Look at all these colours! What does it all mean?
Is it possible that something is possible? Is it fresh pickings, or is it only for them? The world’s gone mad. It’s spring, but it’s colder than March. I’m in winter clothing – and glad of it, as it means I don’t have to address the summer wardrobe issue. My clothes are grey. My flat is grey. London is grey. These guys are happy, they’re on top of the world, and with their Tellytubby ties and their cute first-day-of-school folders they look like little spring tulips, don’t they. Yes. Are they trying to lull us all into imagining we’re just kids watching TV, or is this really how they feel?? You know what – I don’t really care who they are at this stage. I just want them to spread the vibe. I don’t care how they do it.
Of course I was mildly amused to read in the Standard that it was Ed Balls who ballsed up the Lib-Lab talks, by being so bloody rude nobody could negotiate – and for this we pay him – and also ecstatic and overjoyed to see, in the redoubtable Londonist, that Respect, that parasitic veneer of opportunists, has lost both its money and its Chief Insect. But all I really want is to lose this constant feeling of dread that everything is about to buckle underneath me. Let these nice people be happy! They have lovely wives, lovely ties and a lovely new job: no wonder they look so shiny. All my friends look careworn and worried, people are out of work or even working f0r free – and all we hear is that it’s all going to get even worse, possibly forever. I can’t get Mlle B a prom dress, everything’s getting worn out, even my coffee pot has a crack in it. It’s nice to see someone looking really happy. Now let’s just get on with it shall we.
Baroque in Hackney 