The 80's Muse

Earlier this week Dear Readers, Bec and I were having one of our Facetime chats during which we touched on various disparate subjects whilst hooting with laughter and liberally scattering expletives to the wind.

It made me muse on a couple of things - the nature of friendship, and interior decorating.

I quite like the word 'muse.'

Me too, although I prefer ‘moist’. Moist is my favourite word, closely followed by mellifluous.

Bec - is it a strange delight in the letter M?

There are so many different ways that one can muse on subjects, then of course there is being someone's muse, now, as a career I reckon I would rock this, I could float about being elusive and ethereal.... actually...hang on .. having re-mused for a moment perhaps I could if I wasn't 'curvy' and 'sturdy' I feel to properly effect musieness one needs to be enjoying consumptive chic with pokie out hip bones and a languid fly away air that I would find impossible...

Dear Pip, you are a muse already. You receive poems each morning from a real poet. If that isn’t being a muse, I don’t know what is.

He doesnt write them for me Bec, only send them to me!

I used to fancy being a muse until I read about the pre-raphaelites and their households which consisted of a variety of men who slept with a variety of women whenever they chose. It all seemed to be a bit one-sided.

Back to the subjects in hand - friendship and interior decorating...

As our regular readers (thank you all 3 of you) will know I had a ceiling disaster before Christmas involving the entire sitting room being condemned by an insurance assessor who was about 9 - I kid you not I have socks older than this chap. I ended up with a completely empty room, no ceiling, no lights, no furniture not even an ornament (SPB take note there is no D in ornament - a long standing pronunciation battle between Special Precious Boy, Lady Wycombe and myself) not a sausage.

”ordament?” Really?

It has been somewhat stressful. I recognise that I am very lucky to have been able to relocate to the conservatory - In honesty I was very very very bored after 2 months of sitting in a somewhat draughty really not very comfy glass box stuck on the back of my house. Plus the sort of films I watch I was permanently convinced that at any moment Jason was going to leap through the huge expanse of glass behind me (I recently re-watched the Friday 13th movies, in hindsight maybe a mistake).

You are mental. There is no way on this earth you’d catch me watching a horror film in or out of a conservatory. I’m only just recovering from that book you lent me, which I had to keep cover faced down as even the picture on the front scared the living daylights out of me.

However, I am delighted to announce that my sitting room is finished!

Now as I mentioned I had a completely blank canvas - which is both delightful and slightly un nerving. Mostly when we decorate we are not starting from scratch so we match our colour scheme to our sofa, or this case I didn't have a baseline to begin from.

That’s what Pinterest is for.

I hate pinterest - it really annoys me..

My poor poor friends have been through this 'journey' with me and I would like to formally thank them for the hours of patient tolerance that they have displayed as I bored them silly with discussions about which practically exactly matching green colour was better.

You’re welcome.

Whilst musing (see what I did there Readers?) with Bec recently about decorating, looking for inspiration, we harked back to the '80's.

As women (aka Hags) of a Certain Age both of our formative years were spent in the 80's and with fondness we look back on hobble skirts and purple eyeshadow.

I had a rather nice Mary Quant purple eyeshadow set which included a lurid pink to go with the purple. I must have looked like I’d gone twelve rounds with Mike Tyson.

I also had a Mary Quant set, various tones of purple, with matching lipstick, I looked like I had a heart condition.

The ultimate in chic interior design at the time were stripes. Regency stripe curtains with pelmets and swags and tails - in royal blue, every bloody thing was royal blue, carpets, yes royal blue, with little gold Fleur du Lys scattered all over, walls were - yes royal blue, with a dado rail, stripes below, fleur du lys above, ceiling lights in the shape of yup, frigging fleur du lys...and black ash furniture, with inappropriately named object d'art in black glass - strange pyrex stuff, all hexagonal - have ever tried drinking your White Tower from a hexagonal wine glass when pissed - No? You've never lived! Impossible not to pour it straight down your frilly shirt.....

Christ, I remember those hexagonal glasses! They were torture.

How we all hankered after swags and tails - just so elegant. After we had stopped laughing, we concluded that possibly the 80's were the wrong place to search for inspiration.

Picture of utterly vile blue swags and tails.....robbed from some weird site please tell me nobody actually buys these things?

Bec suggested that I think about something that I love, I'm not sure she realises that my current sitting room is entirely her idea!

You’re welcome.

I opted for a Gothic revival Edgar Allen Poe vibe. So, dark and brooding, with weird ornaments (No D SPB) and I love it.

I have a table with gold stork legs classily holding it up, various ravens (named Nevermore for obvious reasons) with light bulbs in their mouths, skulls (obviously they are all over my house) a pair of ceramic cheetahs that I have named Bill & Ted as they have excellent adventures and the piece de resistance - An Edgar Allen Poe death mask - very excited about that one - It hasn't arrived yet - I will post a pic when it arrives.

Beautiful slightly silly table...

You failed to mention the death mask. FFS?

Bec has been with me every step of my strange purchase journey and despite the fact that she hates skulls and Edgar Allen Poe and most (all) of the stuff I have bought has dug deep and enjoyed my puerile badly hidden joy, whilst managing to find enthusiastic superlatives.

I have offered to buy Pip a cloak and a pointy hat as she has transformed her sitting room into a coven.

Not a coven Bec, more a venue for spiritualism...a la Edgar Allen Poe

During this time, because I’m not one to go half heartedly into things, I also decided to throw caution to the wind a purchase a new cooker - (I know this isn’t a very rock and roll blog this week is it?) One of those big range thingys. This will necessitate the removal of 2 kitchen units and various other much bigger than I assumed activities. Lovely Friend is quite handy around the house and can do things like this, so I have co-opted him in to help with bribes of yummy meals and copious amounts of wine.

He is a sweetheart and is happy to be useful, which is great for me (I did price the job with a nice tradesperson and discovered that I probably couldn't actually afford to do this due to the ridiculous amount of ceramic cheetahs I have recently purchased, so I am truly grateful that he is my friend) although I do feel his requirement to be useful backfires when it comes to the unfortunate 'woo-ing' he is attempting at the moment.

The Love of his Life, that he is attempting with no great success to persuade back into a relationship values his ability to mend and build things but it seems not actually him...which is both awkward and quite upsetting for him.

He went all out recently and ordered 60 red roses for her on Valentines Day. This doesn't appear to have had the hoped for result.

He is pretty upset, and we talk endlessly about the situation, how it could be managed, what he could do, what he definitely shouldn't do.

Move on and forget her. She’s clearly not interested. He sounds lovely and his efforts are being wasted. Someone else will appreciate him.

I try very hard to be supportive, although I do occasionally want to shake him until his teeth rattle. Whatever he does I will continue to support him in his decisions and choices even though its like watching a slow train crash.

A familiar feeling.....

And this Dear Reader, I concluded was the nature of true friendship.

That you can love and respect your friends love for something you find ridiculous or appalling or boring, and gain satisfaction and enjoyment from their delight. That your friend can make decisions that you think silly, or likely to cause them hurt, yet still support them, encourage them, laugh and get drunk with them and in Lovely Friends’ case hammer them at chess repeatedly.

A true friend is family, the love is unconditional, the support unwavering, and the joy simple and life affirming.

Everyone needs a Bec and a Lovely Friend in their lives!

Are you alright? Has someone swapped hardcore rock chick, death mask Pip with fluffy unicorn, rainbow Pip? Should I be worried?


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