You know how, 40 is the new 21 and because of Cliff Richards' hideously touched up picture, 70 looks dreadful. Well, nail polish is the new must have. Having spent the last six months saying,
'No, I'm sorry , it sold out before it came in.'
Can you imagine actually, having to say that to some of the women that 'NEED', this seasons must have colour. It's like waving a baby under a Pit Bull's nose.
One Christmas, our company launched a nail polish that sold out worldwide within twenty four hours.We spent weeks getting poked, shouted at, cried at (and that was just the boyfriends in fear of their lives.) pleaded with, all to no avail. There was no more. So shot were our nerves, we bundled Miss Marple to the ground, tied her up with ribbon and with a ransom note clutched in her paws , shoved her in a cupboard and took photos. Then sent them in our annual Christmas card to Mount Olympus (Head office.) and to Zeus himself, just to prove what kind of stress we were under.
It's not easy in retail!
Wednesday 1 September 2010
Tuesday 31 August 2010
Miss White and the Birthday Biscuit.
When working with other women, there are always conversations you are duty bound to have.
Shoes, well yeah! Hair, children, sex, all a given. Johnny Depp, what exactly does he have that makes him so damn sexy as a pirate? Arm pit cleavage and would you kiss Angelina Jolie if you had too? Those are just the everyday conversations.
One random day about a year ago, whilst considering the Passion of the Christ and precisely how mad is Mel Gibson, Miss White posed a knotty problem.
Would you go back to Vanilla pods, if you had made custard with Cardamons?
This lead to a whole day of Cardamon substituted ideas for cooking, none of which we would follow through, but they were good whilst we suggested them.
Imagine my surprise then, struggling with my store cupboards as I made some biscuits for the family, I accidentally created a taste sensation with Cardamon. I decided to take some of them in for the girls to try. Named in honour of Miss White, these went down a treat, only, she wasn't in work. So I had to promise to make her some for her birthday the next week.
With the mixture all prepared the night before, I was not aware of the Tiny Hands and He Who Pays the Mortgage, pilfering of the white chocolate chunks in my biscuit dough and what was supposed to be a great birthday gift, turned out to be an average biscuit.
This year, under tight security I created an enormous batch of biscuits, several plates full in fact, to throw the Tribe of the scent. After smuggling them out of the house and past security into the Hall of Plenty, Miss White finally got the taste she was waiting for. However getting caught with a mouthful of biscuit, making noises like Meg Ryan, meant we had to bribe the Floor Manager with the bloody things.
Next year, she is getting a candle.
Shoes, well yeah! Hair, children, sex, all a given. Johnny Depp, what exactly does he have that makes him so damn sexy as a pirate? Arm pit cleavage and would you kiss Angelina Jolie if you had too? Those are just the everyday conversations.
One random day about a year ago, whilst considering the Passion of the Christ and precisely how mad is Mel Gibson, Miss White posed a knotty problem.
Would you go back to Vanilla pods, if you had made custard with Cardamons?
This lead to a whole day of Cardamon substituted ideas for cooking, none of which we would follow through, but they were good whilst we suggested them.
Imagine my surprise then, struggling with my store cupboards as I made some biscuits for the family, I accidentally created a taste sensation with Cardamon. I decided to take some of them in for the girls to try. Named in honour of Miss White, these went down a treat, only, she wasn't in work. So I had to promise to make her some for her birthday the next week.
With the mixture all prepared the night before, I was not aware of the Tiny Hands and He Who Pays the Mortgage, pilfering of the white chocolate chunks in my biscuit dough and what was supposed to be a great birthday gift, turned out to be an average biscuit.
This year, under tight security I created an enormous batch of biscuits, several plates full in fact, to throw the Tribe of the scent. After smuggling them out of the house and past security into the Hall of Plenty, Miss White finally got the taste she was waiting for. However getting caught with a mouthful of biscuit, making noises like Meg Ryan, meant we had to bribe the Floor Manager with the bloody things.
Next year, she is getting a candle.
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