1. Seeing Sir Ian McKellen at the Oxford Union requires a 4.5 hour wait.
By the time I was up to speed on this, it was too late to gather my deck-chair and mini camp-stove to join the frostbite-braving queue. I’m sure security had a field day with LOTR quotes (Q: When’s Sir Ian going to be here? A: A wizard is never late, Frodo Baggins. Nor is he early. He arrives precisely when he means to) and of course barring entry by roaring…
2. I really need a haircut.
I’m feeling uncannily like my high school history teacher who wore these two little buns that made her look like a horned owl. One day I saw her without the pins in and was shocked to find that her hair was waist-length and thin as a lasagna sheet. In any case, I’m scared of getting my hair caught in farm-machinery (I’ve already had a run-in with my hairdryer this week). Given that I don’t pull off the nocturnal bird look well, and have style icons besides Angela Wesselman-Pierce (aka Catfish lady) I need to go for the chop.
3. Kate Middleton is a barometer of poshness
I thought everyone loved or at least was apathetic towards the Royal Couple. Sure the whole monarchic thing they’ve got going is antiquated, but their job is basically to be inoffensive and demure. Most gripes about the Duchess of Cambridge seem to be (a) that her wearing a certain Zara or DVF dress is the sartorial equivalent of throwing a maimed Bond villain into a piranha tank – it causes a mass consumerist feeding frenzy (“Kate Middleton effect” is a thing on Wiki. The coral-coloured jeans palaver doesn’t bother me so much as my gams would look more fat sea anemone than musk-stick, but I was miffed that the lace Zimmermann dress was basically written off for public consumption); or (b) that she dresses her son like a Leprechaun (IMO babies should only wear weenie Converse).
But this week I learned that there is a strong contingent of college kids who dislike Kate because she is “too common”. Whaaa?