Mariah Carey has just released her own fragrance. Why would anyone want to smell like her? Maybe they’re sick of smelling like J.Lo – or eu de Jay-Z.
So many celebs, so many fragrance. I remember back in the old days (he says sounding like everyone’s father), actors, singers and other such people would go about their business for years without feeling the need to release themselves as a fragrance. To me it’s a sign that the star is waining – the hasbeen status of the untalented celebrity is beginning to sniff around the pampered feet of the uber rich and/or over paid.
J.Lo – what should I do? Should I release another album or should I star in another movie?
Agent – um, yes. An album would be good… or a movie.. Maybe you should do a movie. You’re quite good at acting. And they have editing these days, you know, to cut out all the bad bits…
J.Lo – Yes, yes… It is good that they can do that…. But how do you explain Gigli??
Agent – Maybe there were too many bad bits.. if they cut them all out then they might not have a film.
J.Lo – Perhaps I should do something else for a while… The albums aren’t going so well… My movies, well, it’s like I thought I could act when I started in this business, but I’m not so sure any more…
Agent – But didn’t you start out as a singer?
J.Lo – Yeah.. but I did some acting at high school and people said I was pretty good…
Agent – Maybe they were talking about your booty. You’ve got a pretty fine booty there Ms Lo. People around the office have been commenting on it.
J.Lo – Have they?
Agent – Yes, yes they have. Your booty lights up the room when you walk in. It’s like a full moon radiating its light across us all…
J.Lo – Hmmmm… maybe we could do something with my booty then….?
And 3 weeks later Glow was born. The smell of J.Lo. In a danty wee bottle.
Yes indeed. December has just turned and the hot New Zealand summer is upon us. This was commemorated by International Jandal day on Friday 7th. I have been wearing my jandals very well recently. Much better for your feet. Life are a lot freer in jandals. They are to feet what arse-halving crack slicers are to the buttockular area. The real beauty of jandals, of course, is the ability you have instantly nude feet. Running your toes through the grass of a park, or if you are in Dalry, running your toes through grass, odd hidden syringe and discarded White Lightning flagon of a park.
When I was living in London I decided that going down the corner store for milk shouldn’t involve shoes. It was a beautiful and sunny day, but just 4 tiny winter degrees. I donned my jandals and headed down the stairs, out the front door, walked the 3 steps to the shop and strode on in. A fellow shopper looked at my feet and in her best Saaf Lahndahn vernacular exclaimed, “you maast be ‘avin’ a laaarhf! Wotchu doin’ wivose on luv? You’ll catch your death!!” She wandered out clutching her copy of OK! and laughing like I was some kind of mutant with stone slabs instead of feet. I looked at the lady behind the counter and we had a brief moment. I from the land of the long white cloud, she from the subcontinent. We looked at each others feet and both of us were wearing national footwear. On her feet a pair of the finest leather sandals, with a hint of between the toe thong action. I with my Para Rubbers. Any cultural boundaries that existed between us were, in that fleeting moment, shattered by the swinging hammer of thongdom.
There is the heresy of wearing socks with your jandals. I admit to doing this occasionally, although not in public. It is a sad, sad day when you see that most horrendous of sights – a man daring to put wool (or a wool/polyester blend) between his feet and the very jandals he is wearing. It is usual to see this person wearing a cardigan also. This cardigan will be brown in hue, may or may not have some kind of vinyl patch or patches on the elbows, and be tucked deeply into the shorts he is wearing. Shorts that have been chosen not for their look, but for their ability to act as a fabric-based meat rack; pulled high up towards the belly button displaying a tightly packed lunch. A lunch so tightly packed you are almost tempted to go up and begin a conversation about the possible dangers of such actions – not only for the lunch owner’s ability to propogate the species, but also the lunch viewers’ ability to remain a non-regurgitator.
The pohutukawa across the way has just broken it’s winter silence and is singing a tune of red to me. The deck is now being used on a daily basis. Family holidays are just around the corner. Life is good.
Enjoy the coming summer.