Two things about homoeopathy

On By Laura MorganIn Language, Politics1 Comment

1. I am sad that we’ve lost the middle “o”. It’s universally spelled “homeopathy” now, by everyone but me. I don’t know what drives the urge to discard unpronounced letters in certain words (encyclopaedia, foetus) and not others (psychopath, night), but whenever we do it we lose a link to the origin of the word and its meaning, and I think it’s a shame.

2. I don’t use homoeopathic remedies myself, and from the limited amount I’ve read on the subject I’m not convinced they have a benefit other than as a placebo. However, I’m not angry enough about it to want to protest about it by staging a mass overdose outside branches of Boots.

I can understand the desire to ask the NHS not to spend money on something you don’t believe has any scientific basis, but what can it matter if Boots choose to sell it and people choose to buy it? You can buy herbal remedies and sleeping aids and albums by Muse and all sorts of things which I don’t personally believe deliver any benefits, but if you want them, I’ve no objection to your being allowed to obtain them.

I feel about it a bit as I do about religion. I happen not to believe in a god, but I’ve no desire to start telling other people they shouldn’t either. Some people value their faith above cold hard scientific fact, and I think we should probably let them make that choice. Where belief specifically promotes something dangerous, there’s a reason to challenge it, but I don’t extend that to taking out adverts on the sides of buses, or organising variety shows celebrating atheism. There’s something ungenerous and mealy-mouthed about it, and although I am proud to be a rationalist and an unbeliever, I would like us as humans to be adult enough to make room in the world for people who feel differently, and confident enough in our own beliefs that we don’t need to feel threatened by other people’s.

(Also, arnica totally works on bruises.)

Bags

On By Laura MorganIn Stuff3 Comments

I have trouble with bags. The problem is threefold: firstly, I carry a lot of stuff around and don’t have time to transfer it all between bags depending on my mood and/or outfit, so at any given time I need ONE bag, and one bag alone, which will do duty under all circumstances.

Secondly, I get bored with bags quite quickly, so there’s no point spending much money on them because they tend to get charity-shopped within six to twelve months.

Thirdly, I have very specific requirements. I need to keep my phone and travelcard in an external pocket which is both easily accessible and safe from passing muggers. I need a separate compartment for my keys, BBC staff pass, mints and sunglasses (summer) or gloves (winter). I need another compartment big enough for the make-up I cart around and don’t use. I need to be able to store – at minimum – a book, a bottle of water, a shopping bag, an umbrella, my purse and a plastic folder containing various bits of paper relating to Things I Need To Do. And I need two sets of straps, short and long, so that I can choose whether to hang the bag over one shoulder (easier), around my torso and over the other shoulder (safer) or both (both). Oh, and a separate pocket for my iPod, because the case is encrusted with crystals and if I store it next to anything else the crystals fall off.

So I was delighted yesterday when I found this bag in Dorothy Perkins, which fulfilled every single one of those requirements, and wasn’t horrible, and was a colour (black, if you can’t be bothered to check) which would go with everything else I own.

I duly took it up to the counter, but as the sales assistant was removing the stuffing (is it called that?) I noticed the main zip sticking. “Oh”, I said, “that zip looks a bit sticky, do you mind if I just check to see whether they’re all like that?”. She rolled her eyes and shrugged, which I took as a “no, please go ahead”.

Well, they were all like that, but I decided it didn’t matter enough to make me not buy the bag, so I went back to the counter, where the sales assistant was now serving someone else. She saw me and asked her colleague to serve me. The colleague  said “No, I’m going upstairs”, looked at me and said “you’ll have to wait your turn.”

SIGH, I thought. And then I thought: you know, the bag’s not that nice, and I could buy one from a shop with polite salespeople. “Actually”, I said, airily. “I think I’ll leave it, thanks.”

And then I went home and ordered it from their website, for £5 extra. I know I don’t sound it, but I feel like the winner.

Another post about my hair

On By Laura MorganIn Navel gazing

So I went to see Koto the genius hairdresser yesterday, and she took one look at the grey and said “needs colouring”. I explained that I had stopped dyeing it because it looks so awful when the grey grows back through at the roots, and she said “that’s because you’re dyeing it the wrong colour. You need to blend in the grey, not hide it.”

Since she is a genius, I told her to do whatever she liked, and as always she was completely right. She gave me blonde highlights, which have softened the overall effect by diminishing the contrast between the dark hair and the grey. Why this is so clever, apart from the fact that I love the way it looks, is that when the roots grow through they will be darker, and dark roots on fair hair is a much more acceptable look than grey roots on dark hair. Even better, the greyer it goes the less it will need dyeing, which is the opposite of what happens when you try to hide the grey and keep the original colour.

The grey is all still there, it just looks nice now, and less like a mad witch’s hair.

See:

Excuse the severe expression. Taking the photo was rather a complicated manoeuvre.

Twit and wisdom

On By Laura MorganIn Internet, Small pleasures

On Twitter, Friday is the day when you recommend some of the people you follow to the people who follow you, in the hope that they will start to follow them too, and the tweeting goodness will be spread still wider.

The problem with this is the 140 character limit. In the day-to-day run of things it’s fun and interesting to compose whichever thought you want to convey in such a way that it will fit into a single tweet, but it’s almost impossible to persuade someone to follow someone they’ve never heard of in the same amount of space.

So here, extended for as many characters as I need to explain them, are my Follow Friday recommendations for today. The only thing they have in common is that they’re all prolific tweeters: it’s no good being hilarious and insighful if you only do it once a month.

If you’re on Twitter, follow these people immediately, and if you’re not you can sign up here.

Richard Madely has only been on Twitter for a couple of months, but has already posted more times than I have. And every post is so boundlessly, enthusiastically, Tiggerishly Richard that it’s a constant charm. He is genuinely interested in everything!

Sample tweet:

Newsflash (now THAT takes some of us back) – Soy Sauce in gravy works! Big time! Makes it more savoury with nice backtaste. Just a teaspoon.

I don’t really know who Sali Hughes is, except that she’s a writer, and I can’t remember how I found her, but she’s witty and self-deprecating, and was very funny about her family Christmas. She also chats a lot, so she’s a good way of finding even more people to follow.

Sample tweet:

I’ve just noticed someone’s put me on a twitter list entitled CARBS. I didn’t come here to be insulted. *puts down baked potato sandwich*

Richard Wiseman is a psychologist and magician who uses Twitter more creatively and ingeniously than anyone else I’ve come across. He uses his audience as a giant research panel, constantly asking questions and setting challenges and suggesting things for people to try and report back to him on. He also sets a weekly logic puzzle, and for that alone he makes the list.

Sample tweet:

Starting new book today. Will open with the best sentence submitted on Twitter.

Julia Irving is a Geordie mother of two who enjoys food, reality TV and travel. She also has a terminal cancer diagnosis, but you’d rarely know that from her tweets. She is relentlessly upbeat, has a good word for everyone (even Heather Mills!) and finds joy in the smallest of things. If I ever start to feel weedy and sorry for myself, a healthy dose of Jools brings me back to my senses.

Sample tweet:

OMG this new dessert I have made for tonight is just WOW FABBY DELISH :o) Its honeycomb and chocolate mouse pots YUMMMMYYYYYYY

Finally, I am giving a joint spot to Adam Kay and Suman Biswas, the singing doctors of London Underground fame, because their funniest tweets are often to each other. Pleasingly, the element of “he didn’t really just say that, did he?” which is so prevalent in their songs is also present in their tweets, though I’ve deliberately chosen mild examples here to put you off your guard.

Sample tweet (Adam):

Ever since Alistair Cooke stopped presenting Letter from America and died I’m nervous when he’s mooted to captain England.

Sample tweet (Suman):

Am teaching my cat about Communism. (I assume he wants to learn, he’s always asking about Mao).

And really truly finally, I wouldn’t give them a Follow Friday mention because there can’t be anyone left on Twitter who doesn’t already, but if you’re new to it then you must make sure to follow David Schneider, Mrs Stephen Fry, Samuel Johnson, Derren Brown, Phillip Schofield and shitmydadsays; especially that last one.

Red

On By Laura MorganIn Navel gazing2 Comments

(Please excuse this more than usually navel-gazing post, which I am really writing for my own benefit rather than because it’s interesting to anyone else.)

I was in my late teens when my first grey hair appeared. My mother’s generation all went grey quite early on – though you’d never know it from looking at her – so I was prepared for the same experience and I always consoled myself with the thought that grey hair is a lot easier to hide than wrinkles (which none of them have, even though they are all in their fifties and sixties).

So for the last five years or so I’ve been dyeing it, partly to hide the grey and partly because it’s fun, but a few months ago I realised I didn’t even really know how grey it was, and I decided to stop dyeing it and see how it looked when left to its own devices.

Well, it looks like it’s greying. It’s still mostly the original nothingy dark brown, but the grey is noticeable if you’re within a couple of feet. There are also coppery-coloured streaks which are the remnants of the last dye job, sometime last summer.

At least, that’s what I thought, but last night for the first time in ages I looked closely at my hair in a mirror, and I noticed that the coppery streaks  start at the roots. Somehow, at some point over the last decade, I have developed coppery streaks in my hitherto uniformly dark brown hair.

Red hair is a family trait on my father’s side, so it’s not odd that I should have it, but it seems odd that it should only appear now. Could it be a step on the way to grey? Might hairs grow coppery before they grow white? If so, I hope there is a halfway stage where I’m half white, half red. That would be brilliant.

I will watch closely and record any further developments here.

Stylist Magazine

On By Laura MorganIn Newspapers and magazines, Rants6 Comments

Sorry, I know it’s only been a few days since Davina, but I’m going to rant again. If you’re not in London, Brighton, Glasgow, Manchester, Leeds, Birmingham, French Connection stores or selected airport lounges, you won’t have come across Stylist, the free women’s magazine which is available in all of those places. It’s been going for a couple of months, and aside from the usual dross about losing weight and looking younger with £60 moisturisers, it seemed relatively inoffensive. Well, depending on how offensive you find the dross about losing weight and looking younger with £60 moisturisers. I suppose I find it more depressing than offensive, but I can’t say I blame the staff of the magazine, who after all can only do what their advertisers tell them.

But I do blame the staff of the magazine for the fact that, every week, there is at least one awful blunder which makes them look like they haven’t a clue what they’re doing. Because I am anal about grammar and style, and because it was the week before Christmas and I hadn’t much else to do, I actually emailed the editor last month and pointed out the three worst offenders in that week’s issue (“lightning” mis-spelled as “lightening”, a caption reading “who want’s to be an eco-warrior?” and an article on Sarah Jessica Parker that began, almost incomprehensibly, “As part of a generation that lived and breathed Sex And The City, few TV shows have had as much impact on us as those four Manhattanites.”)

It was a very polite email, though now I look at it again I notice I did say “you could begin by ditching Dawn Porter and replacing her with someone who can write”. Even so, I didn’t really expect a reply, and I didn’t get one. But I suppose I thought that somebody somewhere might have at least read it and thought “OK, let’s keep an eye out for obvious howlers”.

But clearly, no. Here is an extract from the editorial column in today’s issue.

To add to our misery (thanks a lot), scientists have used a formula to calculate the most depressing day of the year, taking into account weather, finances and motivation levels. They found it always falls on the third Monday in January – which is next week.

As this day of joy approaches, we’ve decided to rebrand Blue Monday. January 25 is now the day to book your dream holiday and swap your January blues for the azure shades of idyllic beaches.

Ahem. Did you spot the problem? Not the one about “Blue Monday” being a load of balls which lazy journalists like to rehash every year because it saves them from having to have an idea, but the one about how many Mondays there have been in January so far? Or indeed, the one about how many days have to have passed before it can be the 25th of a month?

Stylist magazine, you’re embarrassing me now. Please try harder.

Davina McCall

On By Laura MorganIn Rants, TV and radio3 Comments

When Big Brother first started, I really liked Davina. I thought she provided a comforting, big-sisterly presence both for the viewers and for evicted housemates as she accompanied them on the terrifying journey out of the house and into the TV studio.

I think it was around the time of Kate Lawler – Kate who liked a drink, and enjoyed fooling around and flirting – that I began to get the sense that Davina (that’s the same Davina who has happily spoken publicly about her Drink And Drugs Hell™) had a rather disapproving attitude towards attractive young women who liked to have fun. And I think that’s got truer and truer over the years, to the point now where I actively dread watching her interview anyone with the temerity to be young, pretty and unmarried.

This reached its horrific pinnacle last night with the eviction from the Celebrity Big Brother house of Katia Ivanova, most famous for being the woman for whom Ronnie Wood left his wife Jo two years ago.

Katia is twenty-one. This means that two years ago, when she got involved with sixty-year-old relapsed alcoholic Ronnie Wood, she was nineteen. The relationship ended abruptly just before Christmas when Ronnie was arrested and cautioned over a “domestic incident”.

Katia is now reportedly “seeing” someone else, and the behaviour of which Davina vocally and solemnly disapproved consisted in her becoming involved with Jonas Altberg, a Swedish musician, during her two-week stay in the Big Brother house.

Shall we take another look at those facts? At nineteen, Katia entered a relationship with an alcoholic over forty years her senior, who (she says) drank and took cocaine daily during their time together. The relationship ended with a violent incident over which he was arrested. This happened less than a month ago. Since then, she has become involved with another man, who was shortly afterwards superceded in her affections by Jonas, aka Basshunter, who we were told at the start of the series is well-known in Sweden for his womanising and who has a sex tape circulating on the internet; who nonetheless treated her gently and thoughtfully during the time they spent together.

Davina’s interview with Katia consisted in its entirety of Davina asking Katia whether she thought she’d behaved well in the house, over clips of Katia and Jonas variously talking, flirting, kissing and sharing a bed (very decorously, both fully clothed). At the end, and this was the point at which my blood started to boil, Davina asked Katia whether she thought she’d improved her reputation in the eyes of the public, and Katia laughed and said “probably not”. Rather than chummily joining in, which was what the situation – by now quite awkward – desperately needed, Davina gave Katia a severe look and said “learn from this, OK?”.

I’m sorry, learn what? It seems to me that Katia has already learned, in the last month, that she doesn’t need to be in a relationship with a violent, alcoholic sexagenarian; that there are plenty of men who are young, attractive and want to be around her, and that at twenty-one she is entitled to a little uncomplicated fun. There is no reason in the world for her not to do whatever she likes with whomever she likes, and Davina’s holier-than-thou disapproval was unnecessary, mysogynistic and downright unpleasant.

I hope that when her daughters are teenagers and sleeping with middle-aged alcoholics (and Davina has form in this respect: she once dated Eric Clapton), she manages to be a bit less judgemental and a bit more understanding. And I hope that Katia takes as long as she likes to settle down, and isn’t felled by the unkindness of people who can’t find their way out of their own jealousy and spite.

Bookshop dilemma

On By Laura MorganIn Books, London2 Comments

A new bookshop has recently opened in Herne Hill, which has for the first time caused me to question my highly successful “no new books” policy. We already have an Oxfam shop with a good selection of books, and I am a library member and anyway have a pile of about thirty unread books sitting in the flat, all of which are good reasons for not buying any new books at all, let alone new books at full price, which in Herne Hill Books they mostly are.

And yet. I’d like them to do well, and not have to close down in six months’ time because everybody thinks the same way as me. Apart from anything else, you can’t give library books or Oxfam books as presents, so it’s useful to have somewhere nearby available for emergency birthday purchases when I’ve left it too late to go anywhere else.

I solved this dilemma temporarily today by buying a copy of East of Acre Lane, which since it’s set locally seemed an appropriate purchase, even though it broke the rule. And I think I have a good ongoing solution too, which is to order my book club books from there, since they are exempt from the rule, being too hard to find by other means. I just have to remember not to accidentally buy a pile of four extra books each time I go in to place an order. I will let you know how I get along.

But right now, I have to go: it’s Ronnie O’Sullivan v Mark Williams in the snooker semi-final. Shh.

Book Crossing

On By Laura MorganIn Books, Reasons to be cheerful1 Comment

An exciting start to the new year: today I found my first Book Crossing book. I had heard about the scheme (whereby, in case you don’t know, members read books, attach labels to them saying “please read this book and pass it on”, and then leave them in a public place to be found by someone else), but never seen it in action.

My first thought, on seeing a copy of Kate Atkinson’s Emotionally Weird left on the tube at Brixton, was to look for whoever had left it there and give it back, but once it became clear nobody was going to claim it I opened it up and found the Book Crossing sticker. As well as explaining the way the scheme works, the sticker displays a reference number unique to that copy, and you can go online and report where you found it and what you’re going to do with it next, which I have just done. I’ve been giving unwanted or unwieldy books away to the local charity shop, but I think this is much more fun.

I was also quite pleased that it was Kate Atkinson, because when I worked at a bookshop I had two colleagues who used to rave about her, and I could never quite bring myself to be bothered to read her. This feels like the right time to do it, although she will have to slot into the gaps in War and Peace – of which there are plenty, because W&P is too big to be read in bed. Since I started reading it in early December I have got halfway through it, but have also started and finished four other books. It actually works very well to read something big and important during the day and something small and silly at night, although my most recent bedtime book was Julian Barnes’ Nothing To Be Frightened Of, which is many things (very good, mainly) but which is certainly not small or silly.

Now I must send off for a sheet stickers and release some books of my own into the wild. If in the future you ever discover a Book Crossing book registered by “EllseeM” (I know: elsiem was already taken and I panicked), it’s one of mine.