Tuesday, 23 August 2011

Reality leaves a lot to the imagination.

The title of this post is a quote from John Lennon.
Yes, the same guy who claimed that all you need is love.
Which clearly isn't true. I also need these shoes.

As a 20 year old girl from Essex, clearly when I think about reality, one of the first things that comes to mine is reality tv

The best show. Ever. 

I own all five series on DVD. 
I have watched them all at least five times. 
And I still love it. 

Although it is 'reality', most of it is set up. 

I don't necessarily think that is a bad thing. It wouldn't be as funny otherwise.
Besides, most reality shows are partially scripted (or they would probably resemble one of those plays you perform in Year 8 drama lessons).

It is one of the most hilarious things I have ever watched and regularly cheers me up.
Although I may not have convinced some of the boys I lived with in halls last year to openly admit to liking the show, they can't deny that they sat through 3 hours of Nicole and Paris. 

Now, I know I am not someone who usually has the most ideal role models for guidance in life (see here), but this time I think Nicole Richie is pretty solid inspiration
She has a fashion line with jewellery and handbags. She has written two novels. She was in Chuck. She has children. And she does charity work.
So she might have battled with drugs and an eating disorder. But I think that is pretty normal, especially for someone famous since childhood. 

Ok, so no, there isn't really much point to this post (we were all thinking it), but I hope it might persuade you somewhat to watch an episode or 12 of The Simple Life
Failing that, I hope I might have convinced you that for once, I have a decent role model in life.

Thursday, 18 August 2011

When I grow up...

A recent conversation with my three year old sister, Millie:

Millie: Becca, when I get bigger am I going to be tall like you?

Becca: I think you will probably be taller than Becca.

Millie: When I get bigger am I going to have a big belly like you?

Becca: ...


Tuesday, 16 August 2011

It must be love.

A few things I am loving this week. 2.

My new Rihanna tshirt

From Topman

My new black top and customized shorts

My own colour choice of peanut M&Ms
M&M shop, London

Dirty Sexy Things
E4, 9pm Monday
And creating our own jumping pictures
admittedly, I might have added the paint splash to our picture

Getting excited about my trips to New York and Venice

McDonald's Summer Chorizo Burger

Monday, 15 August 2011

Chocolate Biscuits

I am not a very good cook, but I do love to bake. 

One thing I am positively terrible at is Shortbread; it just never seems to go right.

But this summer, having little else to do, I began baking something everyday.
It has now become more of a 3 times a week hobby since, although my family do eat them, I tend to consume the majority and have got proper fat.

These chocolate biscuits were just one of my creations. I don't follow recipes much; and for these little treats, I didn't even weigh anything and I can't even enlighten you with what I threw into the mixture! Then again, I am not a food blogger; I leave that to my gorgeous friend Jess who is bloody marvelous at just that. 

But having little to blog about recently, I thought I would share my creation. 

The raw mixture

Separated into balls

Flattened into cookies

And sprinkled with crushed almonds

The biscuits were crumbly on the outside, and perhaps I didn't cook them well enough, but were soft and chewy in the middle, which is how I like my biscuits to be. The chocolate taste wasn't all that strong, but that's probably because I only used cocoa powder and not real chocolate. 

Nonetheless, they were edible. Which is a success in my opinion!

Saturday, 13 August 2011

'Holy shit, that's mint!'

The movie of the century.

For me, this film is motion picture perfection.

I was so excited to see this film knowing that is was produced by both Spielberg and JJ Abrams.

(Well in all honesty, Cloverfield gave me motion sickness, and Lost pissed me off a little after the first series; but anything with Chris Pine in is sure to get my vote [Star Trek]. Regardless, they are big names; the film is bound to be good, right?)

I included this picture because it is much more attractive than any of Spielberg and/or Abrams. Fact.

My excitement was justified. 

This film has everything a film could ever provide.

There is love, bereavement, action, sci-fi, horror, history and comedy.
There really are some cracking moments that are rather hilar.

A particular fave quote of mine was when the group were eating in a diner:
'Excuse me. Could we get another order of fries? Because my friend here is FAT.'

Admittedly, I was slightly confused whilst watching it. The main group of boys consisted only of four (with one girl to help them in their film production), so I thought (and I hope I am not giving anything away) that there might be something that had 8 legs to give the film its name?
It wasn't until I began writing this blog post that I discovered it was actually the name of the camera the boys use to produce Charlie's film. Although I am guessing that other people would know that and their knowledge probably isn't as limited as mine, and so this confusion wouldn't trouble them quite so much. 

A Super 8

The young actors are pretty great. I like they just seem like normal kids and not obnoxious American children you sometimes get in films.

I did become quite attached to the hero of the film. I am not sure whether that was solely because the film made us feel for him because of what he was going through or whether I feel as though if I had a child, it would look like this boy, given that he slightly resembles my brother. 
Maybe it's the hair...

Joe: actor 
Sam: brother

It is a film for everyone; given a 12A rating, it is a family film. But is not necessarily a film for children. 
Some parts do get a little gruesome, there are boys selling weed and there are certain parts to the storyline which are a little complex and take a bit of analysing.
(Saying this, that comment came from someone who had no idea why the film was called Super 8 so perhaps it is more straightforward than I have made it).

But then again, this is why I love the film. 

For me, it wasn't the brilliant effects (although some might say a little excessive, I would say it helps appeal to the younger audiences who wouldn't necessarily highlight its relatively unrealistic tendencies) or really the excitement of wondering what was causing the abnormalities occurring in the town that captured my attention, but more the questioning of the honesty of authorities, the story of a child in love, and the heartache of losing a mother. 
Then again, I am a girl. I love the sentimental shit. 

But this is exactly why I recommend seeing it. 

It has something for everyone. 

It does have an air of similarity to other Spielberg films, namely E.T. and Jurassic Park, and I am certain this will become just as loved as those classics

In the words of the Charles and for clarification of the title of this post (and let's be honest, some of us need clarification of titles)

this film is mint

Tuesday, 9 August 2011

Save the Children.

I have a question, is it fine for me to call social services for a poor child who's mother is making him wear ugly shoes?

Again, this post is related to my experiences in the shoe shop.

So the story goes that, on an above-average hot day this summer (well, for this summer; pretty normal for usual summers), I was working in the shoe shop. It was inconvenient for a number of reasons. 
One, the fact that I knew I was missing this one of the few days of the hot weather and I knew it was meant to rain for the rest of the week thanks to BBC weather. I could have attempted a tan! A real one!
Two, the fact that I should  have been in Leamington Spa, doing the MoS workout and getting the attention of the bar staff with a wiggle of my bum. The most important of all inconveniences. 
Three, my work trousers are too big and the red SALE shirt is extremely unattractive and so I do not appreciate having to look minging (the other times I do are a product of my own laziness which is the fault only of myself and so I can't really complain too much).

But still, every cloud has a silver lining, and I believe the silver lining of this particular cloud is that I behold the potential to bring justice to innocent children with what I witnessed in Romford's shopping centre on this Tuesday afternoon.

So back to the main plot of the story.... 

I had been pricing a few shoes when a family walked in.
A Mother. Average height (slightly taller than myself), brown hair, jeans, brown sandals, a forgettable top.
A Daughter. Skinny, long brown hair, really narrow feet (could be an inconvenience to shoe shop assistants but not us, we have width fittings), a floral dress.
A Son. About to start year 8, glasses, braces and a hearing aid.

Now the problem lies with the Son.

I am not being cruel about his disabilities. (I know what you were thinking.) I mean, throughout my school life I had glasses and braces. Admittedly I have adequate hearing but I was fat. And a bit of a geek. So I reckon we are on a pretty level heading....

To prove I'm not being a bitch. I really am a loser.

But going through a similar experience in terms of perceived loserness, I feel I am in a position to help him! I understand his distress and I wish I only knew then what I knew now, and avoided the backpack and opted for a Kookai bag like all the other year 7 girls with the older and more experienced sisters.

It's not cool to have glasses and braces and hearing aids. And it is not cool to be fat. (Unless you are a comedian. Fat comedians are cool. And I am rather hilarious, but I am not for some odd reason recognised as a comedian as such.)

What is also not cool is clumpy shoes to go along with all of this.

I should know. I have been there. (Alongside the backpack and oversized blazer and longer-than-average skirt.)

Now don't get me wrong, we don't just sell clumpy shoes in the shoe shop I work in. I mean, there are LOADS of really nice shoes in the same range. These ones just happened to be the ugliest. In my opinion. But the Mother was insistent on wanting her Son to have these particular shoes.

He wanted Kickers.
Like everyone else.

The Mother said that not everyone would have these shoes; that the Son was exaggerating.
This might be so. But when I have been into a secondary school recently, I can say I was actually amazed at how many kids were actually wearing Kickers. It certainly seemed like everyone. Even I felt left out! I wasn't even a student.

So I felt bad for the Son. Who calmly explained that he would get bullied due to the fact that he already has glasses and braces and a hearing aid.

So essentially he has pre-warned the Mother.
The Mother ignored him.
The Mother was letting this happen.
She is permitting the other children to take the piss out of the Son.
Essentially, the Mother is bullying the son herself.
I mean, he has glasses and braces and a hearing aid for fuck's sake.
Give the kid a pair of Kickers!

Personally, I think they are ugly. And probably more clumpy than the shoes the Son eventually had to walk out the shop with.

But at least he would be happy and safe in the knowledge that he can kick the bullies in the face with the same shoes they have...

Thursday, 4 August 2011

Tying the knot.

Warning: this post is longer than those in recent weeks. Do not be deterred. It is an incredibly important issue which needs to be brought to the attention of all children and their parents worldwide.

Ok; so this post isn't actually about weddings or getting married. It is about tying shoe laces
But I liked the phrase. 

Despite not actually completing many hours of work at the minute, I am employed. On a zero hour contract. But regardless, I am still employed.

This employment involves fitting children with wonderfully comfortable shoes!

Growing feet in safe hands.

That's what they promise.
I say they. I don't really know who they are. I am assuming they are someone with a lot more authority in the company than I possess. I mean, I currently have been removed of the ability of completing refunds by moving stores. Hell! I don't even have a sales number to put through the till! Essentially, I have no sales! I am not even there according to the sales statistics, but regardless..

I am the safe hands. Me.
And everyone else who works for the multi-national company; but I do own some of the safe hands they are talking about.

We sell over 50 million pairs of shoes every year. 
And being one of the main high street sellers of school shoes, there is a a lot of school shoe sales going on.

But I'm not going to take all the credit. I do have some help in creating such outstanding statistics, admittedly.
And who provides that help?

Well, my good friends Jack Nano and Daisy, of course.
The kids love them. 
They hang about, hiding in the bottom of their shoes making the kids so excited that they don't even care what the actual shoe even looks like!
They make the little shoes fly off the shelves (probably more so in Jack's case, since this summer he LITERALLY has wings. Wings! Well, a jetpack but still! And I say fly off the shelves, but in reality, I get them from the stock room and bring them to the shop floor; there is only one shoe on the shelves and the majority of kids I serve tend to have two feet)!



But no matter how much fun I have with these guys, popping out the wings of the jetpack and threading the adorable bug beads onto the bracelet string, we are secret enemies. Enemies because they are dumbing down the nation(s) with their.... wait for it.... VELCRO fastened shoes!

I wouldn't usually mind the odd velcro shoe. 
It can be quite convenient. 

But none of the children's shoes below a size 3 have any laces.
(And lots of children have feet above a size 3, which intimidates me slightly since my feet are a size 4.5 and I am meant to be an adult! What if all those kids get massive feet when they grow up and I look like a strange old lady with miniature feet?!)
But again, this is only part of the annoyance. 

What really infuriates me is that SO many children cannot tie their laces.
They are like 11 years old! They are going to secondary school and their parents ask for velcro because they can't tie their own laces!

It's insane! And Jack and Daisy are just encouraging this insanity. It's not right.
They are giving in to the masses of children who are just too fucking lazy to bother to learn a basic and simple life skill!
What will happen if they aren't encouraged to learn?
What if it get's too late and they get to a size 3 and they can only have laces?!

As a child, probably aged around four, my mother would sit me down with a red plastic shoe and teach me to tie laces and make me do it myself, over and over again until I got it right. 

And now, well now I have a potential career thanks to this skill! I can fit shoes left, right and centre; tying the laces of the shoes above a size 3 whilst I'm at it! But once those shoes walk out that shop (well, the people in them; they are great shoes, but they don't have supernatural abilities) I shall not be there to tie the laces again.
That is down to them!
The people who bought the shoes I tied up!
They are on their own in the big bad world of laces and leather and all sorts! It's scary!

If they only had a mother and a plastic red shoe to save them from this horror; and save me from the fear of letting them leave with those laces flapping about and their shoes falling off and them stepping into a muddy puddle in just socks?! Oh god! The fear!

Now I thought I may have just been overreacting (there are a few slip on shoes you can buy and even some velcro shoes passed a size 3 after all), and perhaps I just had an over keen mother. 
But no. 
I did a bit of research and on the Fisher Price website, in the Parenting Help section, I witnessed the cries of a distressed mother.

Her 5-year-old daughter could not tie her shoes!

And the wise woman who replied to her pleas for help in such difficult times said that some children can't manage this technical ability until they are 6 years old!

But hang on! SIX?

I literally met some boy the other day who was 13 and could not tie his shoes.
I was appalled. Alarmed. Concerned. TRAUMATIZED by this infromation. 

And what is worse, he has size 8 feet and the only option in the stock room was.... LACES!

Heaven forbid! His mother had to buy the shoes and promised to help him learn in the holidays before September.

Poor kid.

So please, whilst you slip on your shoes and mindlessly tie the laces because you were taught so long ago that it has just become second nature, just think about that poor boy who is currently struggling with string. 
Who knows what will become of him?!
It doesn't bear thinking about.

Or, you could join me and laugh at the little bugger for being such a lazy shit.