It’s a long weekend and here are a few of the things I love. Surprise emails The sun coming out after the rain The rain Brunch Shorts, a t-shirt and muddy feet Bare shoulders Exfoliating Pablo Neruda Dogs Dogs in coats Bubble baths Lemons Petit … Continue reading Things I love
I remember sitting in my car years ago, waiting for my child to finish another Bar Mitzvah lesson. It was always a tedious hour, for him and for me. Until one day he discovered there actually was meaning tucked deeply behind all those Hebrew words. And he … Continue reading Nora Ephron
I just read about men getting Botox in their balls to iron out the wrinkles and dear sweet goddesses, my Monday is ruined. It’s called Scrotox and honestly what the fuck but balls have always been wrinkled and will always be wrinkled and Jesus Christ … Continue reading Balls
sunglasses are Ray-Ban
sunblock, Vichy SPF 100
the model – me
I’m off to Kruger for a few days and there may be a hot game ranger.
Yesterday I had eyelash extensions. I’d seen someone else with them, thought she looked amazing, got the details and made an appointment.
When the beautician was finished I looked in the mirror and went OH MY GOD. Then I went FUCK. Then OH MY GOD. Then FUCK.
‘You okay?’ she asked
‘Absolutely,’ I replied.
I paid her a small fortune and then my very long very thick very black sexy eyelashes and I headed to a coffee shop.
I wasn’t sure anyone would notice.
‘OH MY GOD,’ said the barista.
‘FUCK,’ said the waitress.
‘Do you think they’re a bit much?’I asked.
Nope. No. Not at all. Everyone was in agreement. They’re amazing. Magnificent. Perfect.
I sipped my coffee and dished the beautician’s number out to all the women who asked.
And I dished mine out to all the men who asked.
Well, just one, but still.
These eyelashes are amazing. They are long, flirty, fun, glamorous and the thing is, they ooze sex appeal.
I love it.
They’ve made me walk with a swing in my step, a twinkle in my eye, I feel confident and beautiful and you know…
I’m calling my difficult friend.
These are fuck me eyelashes.
And I intend to make full use of them.
Claudia is in Johannesburg. She does home visits. 082 456 3809. It’s very fucking expensive but worth every penny!
Once a week I go out with girlfriends. We choose bars that have great cocktails and a groovy atmosphere.
We talk over each other, we laugh, we usually drink too much, we have great fun and it’s all about us, the world, life, love, eyelashes and whatever stuff has been going on.
We never look at the men.
So it was with great surprise when this morning I walked past last night’s bar and the owner stopped me.
‘You know,’ he said, ‘we were talking about you last night. You girls are fantastic, amazing, vibrant, beautiful. You’re just like The Calendar Girls.’
I loved the amazing vibrant bit.
BUT THE CALENDAR GIRLS!
The Calendar Girls were those brilliant women, those brilliant older women, who posed naked to raise funds, albeit with some very strategically placed teapots, cupcakes and violins.
I immediately messaged my girlfriends to tell them we are the new Calendar Girls.
We all found it hilarious, except for the older bit, but hey, we’ll just let that bit go.
We were also united in our thinking.
We’re never hanging out over tea, cake and pianos.
We have no interest in being those kind of Calendar Girls.
We’re going to hang out in bars for as long as we can. And we are very happy to pose naked over the bar stools.
Send us the money. We’ll do it immediately.
Just take note, we’re not covering anything!
The Calendar Girls, the movie.
I have a date tonight
so I’ve had a manicure
dyed my eyebrows
I look like Frida Kahlo
no big deal
I shall be charming
smile at everything he says
be very sure
not to draw attention
to my eyes
I cannot roll them
or raise a single eyebrow
I should cancel.