Bourgeois chic.
My new cleaner came today for the first time. I felt like such a middle class twat as I showed her round my house. She was the same age as me and probably would have been quite a good drinking buddy (although her constantly calling me Miss Flower might have got a bit annoying).
I hated the idea of watching her clean my house (probably as much as she did) and so I mumbled something about a 'meeting', gave her the keys, showed her the hoover and fled.
I then found myself in the odd position of getting to Oxford Street before it opened, and having to kill some time with a coffee. When the shops finally flung open their doors I was pretty much the only shopper there, and so took great delight in pounding my credit card with necessities* for September...
...then I came home to a nice clean house, put my feet up, had a cup of tea and looked at all my pretty things.
I am so lucky. I do know.
* This is actually true. My school has a very very strict dress code (skirts only, below knee etc etc) and my slightly boho chic wardrobe doesn't measure up or down. Literally!
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(24.8.05 12:24) Sounds like a perfect day to me. Lovely x |
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(24.8.05 12:25) I have a similar deal with my cleaning lady, only sometimes she gets to call me son... and cash money has to change hands. I am a bad lazy man... -Loving the red hair! Those floweres are "a right touch" |
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(24.8.05 12:39) Thats a great way to spend a morning! x |
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(24.8.05 13:02) It was lovely... I shall think of it fondly when I am breaking my nails on small children in a week or so. Thank you Linesy - I only wear them for special occasions! |
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(24.8.05 13:14) ooh, so what d'you get? |