Several times per day for the past five months Connie Francis's "where the boys are" wafts out from a colleague's office .
It is such a mournful tune.
Each time I hear it a wave of unease bordering on agitated despair washes over me. I feel like an extra from a truly distressing scene in Blue Velvet and that some terrible repressed memory longs to emerge.
Mayday, Mayday as Captain Peachfuzz used to cry.
Yes, it is also May Day but no, I am not wearing a sprig of lily of the valley on my lapel or anywhere on my person, or marching or dancing around a maypole (apparently one of the rockstockracy set has a gold one in her bathroom but it's sans ribbons making it one of them poles de sauce ). I do all of that come October (well not the sauce pole dancing, I hear you can get some very nasty sprains) for I live in the southern hemisphere.
It is autumn in the southern hemisphere and the air has been kind of nippy in sin city.
Yesterday I bought a lot of hosiery at Myers, 25% off one particular brand. Apart from the discount I was drawn to the packaging which boldly claimed that the line of hosiery was the brand preferred by Qantas hosties – a mark of prestige no less. This of course greatly appealed to me, which granted is rather curious for be the matter sociale, intellectuale or real estatale the mistress likes to think that she is generally NOT a snob.
That bold statement made, she is a bit of snob when it comes to the old champers and was always mildly appalled by the prospect of imbibing a glass of Cock Ridge blush. Nevertheless duly knocked it back ('Saint Bel') and its parent bottle ('Supertrooper') and no doubt proceeded to behave in a fashion that appalled all present. Oh just rack off, Fischer, it was the mid to late 90’s, I was in my 30’s and celebrating the end of a recession.
However I digress, blame it on the Blue Dalton who I saw for the first time in 15 years last weekend ….
And in the spirit of reminiscing…In the late 90’s I frequently shoved my snout in the bargain troughs at the bottle shop that was conveniently located next door to my former residence, Derwent Flats (my how i've come up in the world...).
My favourite DROP for a very reasonable price was a variety of methode champenoise called Omni. I told a friend and colleague, who was a wine expert - in a fun way not in a C. Erskine-Browne way, about this drop called Omni, which was not bad and quite a bargain, to which he purred that it was the splash that Qantas reserved to serve its First Class passengers.
For years I would present this brand to people advising and wowing them with the Qantas First Class factor. Frills and thrills at no frills prices. Only to find out several years later that it was a joke and my covetting prestige at bargain prices had caused me to be punk’d big time!
So you see it’s with some trepidation that I proceed to boast about the brand of hosiery enveloping my pins and toes for snobbery and boasting are perilous follies bound to lead to ignominy.
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