Monday, October 15, 2007
Took me three attempts to get dressed this morning. Everything I tried was wrong.
Finally, in despair, I grabbed my new favourite black, v-necked, top from the clothes maid and pulled it on, cold and still slightly damp.
I thought my days of cold and still slightly damp clothes were well over.
On school mornings the problem was clammy socks; knee high and Daz white in the First Form, less dazzling five years later and only kept 'knee high' by a garter contrived of knotted knicker elastic - exactly how expensive were socks in the Seventies? Were they still being rationed? Or was there a Yorkshire-wide sock blockade of which I I knew nothing?
At first, in college, most things were ever so slightly damp.
That, or scorch dried to cardboard hardness on radiators hotter than the earth's core. After several months of unpleasantness I put aside the scare stories of shredding and shrinkage and learned to trust the campus launderette.
In ThePlaceICan'tSay I had an antique mangle and thought myself lucky.
Then, after the escape, real luxury: a second-hand twin tub with a spin dryer and all the time in the world for pegging out.
Now, here I am - cash rich and time poor, shivering in a damp jumper. Maybe we do need that tumble dryer after all?
Fistful Of Rain - Warren Zevon
Parliament Square - Stina Nordenstam
Truth, Goodness & Beauty - The Cure
Don't Fear The Reaper - The Beautiful South
Red Light Indicates Doors Are Secured - Arctic Monkeys
Strung Out Again - Elliott Smith
Comfort Me - Sparklehorse
Barely Legal - The Strokes