the great outdoors!
After enjoying the rather more fast-paced and frantic delights of London life this time last week and meeting some charming and interesting new companions in the process, this week I am taking it at an altogether more relaxed pace, although I was compelled (in the nicest way possible) to work up something of a sweat in the company of a particularly enthusiastic caller yesterday (and am fast beginning to realise that I may have what is colloquially termed as ‘a bit of a thing’ about cufflinks, and the accompanying proper shirts).
As you may see from my rather more candid than usual picture this week, I have been fortunate indeed to have been afforded the opportunity to happily bask in the warm sunshine during not only one but two picnicking excursions to the beautiful local countryside over the early part of the week, and have bravely tackled forest mud, thistles, brambles and nettles (as well as an unfeasibly huge wasp in a log pile) in the name of art, or at least a new and different set of pictures for my soon-to-be-reorganised Gallery pages. I must offer my many thanks to the kind gentleman who not only provided said picnic, but gallantly took said pictures whilst I concentrated on both languidly posing sans vêtements without getting humiliatingly and painfully sunburned and carefully keeping watch for unwary passers by; a minibus full of earnestly-dressed hillwalkers would have been a decidedly unfortunate and annoying diversion, but our luck held and we had our wonderful hilltop spot and its panoramic views completely to ourselves (not counting the wasp).
I am finding myself becoming increasingly bored and weary of seeing set after set of meticulously planned, perfectly staged, costumed and made-up studio pictures however flawless they are, and am hoping that some visitors to my site may share my view and will be pleased to see some au naturel ‘amateur’ snapshots lit only by the sun (although I must admit to carefully retouching not only a few of the usual (and unavoidable) clothing marks, but also the war wounds amassed during my outing the day before, when my companion and I had our leisurely ramble through some truly stunning and tranquil woodland to our lakeside picnicking destination, encountering along the way some killer nettles, although thanks to some well thought out pre-picnic squashing down we managed to avoid being stung on any parts which would have adversely affected the postprandial activities). The remainder of the pictures will be making their debut soon, as well as some brand new ones of the more usual insect-free, be-corsetted and glamorous ilk from my lovely new camera, for those who, like me, have time for both kinds.
As far as London goes, I was sadly forced to return home earlier than I had planned last Saturday evening following an unexpected cancellation and subsequently a morning of desperately scouring Laterooms for another hotel - unfortunately everything I could find in a sensible location with suitable facilities, and below the £200 a night bracket was booked solid, and as the prospect of forlornly wandering London’s streets with my suitcase (or worse, having to stay at the Royal Scot Travellodge) until my proposed departure on Sunday morning was too much to bear. With this in mind I apologise again to the unfortunate and disappointed would-be callers on whom I had to cancel, but all is not lost and I am arranging another four day visit at the start of next month - watch this space!
a night (not) at the opera
Needless to say, my earlier prediction was entirely correct and the summer evening I had planned to relax in the lovely Jardin du Luxembourg with Rigoletto was washed out completely, to the extent that even the barely-two-minute walk to Pigalle metro was enough to drench me to the skin. The evening was salvaged only by an industrial-sized slice of good apple tart and a DVD box set (not of an opera); thankfully the following day the sun came out and normal service was resumed.
Ten days later and I am sharpening up my search skills on Youtube (so that I may actually see some of the production that I bought a £60 ticket for), and am having at least a little success now that I have worked out the order in which the segments should be viewed. The weather for four of my eight days was so horrendous that I have now resigned myself to any future visit I make to Paris being akin to monsoon season in the tropics, irrespective of season or timing; fortunately there are many ways to occupy oneself indoors.
Upon my return I caught up with the lovely Catherine Stephens from the IUSW, whom longer-standing readers will remember had me accompany her to the TUC Womens Conference in March where we were together treated to much ill-informed, hysterical abolitionist nonsense regarding the evils of our chosen occupation (the gist of which I need not go into in any sort of depth here, as most of you will be only too aware of what I mean). She was also kind enough to put me up for the night at her fascinating work premises and thus my first visit to a proper dungeon, equipped with all the corrective gadgets and equipment it must be possible to need, and then some; luckily for me also a comfortable bed and a fully-functioning bathroom which after a day’s metro-hopping before my Eurostar departed Gare du Nord mid-afternoon, was the stuff of fantasies in itself. Incidentally, for those of you who may wish to partake with such a lady offering excitingly tougher stuff than I, Cat has informed me that she will be advertising again soon and is planning a new website; I will keep you informed (or she’ll spank me!)
You will be pleased to hear therefore that we got our chance to redress the balance somewhat at the GMB conference in Blackpool on the Sunday lunchtime where a fringe meeting was held ostensibly to discuss the legal and labour rights of workers in the sex industry (and also not in any small part to demonstrate that many of us are not emaciated, drug-addled crime-statistics-waiting-to-happen). Having never participated in any form of public speaking bar occasionally being called upon to read aloud at school, my paralysing terror at addressing a public gathering was fairly apparent to all present, but I am pleased to report that everyone was very kind, the meeting was fully attended and I did eventually manage to splutter out some semblance of a speech (and later wondered if I would have been closer to my comfort zone had I held forth in a state of undress as in this weeks photograph, provided of course that this would not itself constitute a public order offence).
I am this evening leisurely packing up and making final preparations for my London trip, and shall be setting off early tomorrow morning. There is now only minimal availability left (despite and few changes-around,)but still enough to make a phone call worthwhile! Will be seeing a few of you there no doubt; to everybody else - back Monday and behave yourselves while I’m gone or there’ll be trouble! Maybe that dungeon’s rubbed off a bit on me after all…
amy vergnés is in Paris - vol II
I hate to gloat (it is so very unbecoming, after all), but having spent a blissful morning food shopping, and the afternoon enjoying the spectacular Kandinsky exhibition at the Centre Georges Pompidou (prior to a dinner I feel embarrassed to describe in detail and am still recovering from, and which has lain waste to my plans of a trip out to see the new Terminator film this evening with a view to redressing the cultural balance) I am feeling very content and not a little smug.
Despite forecasts to the contrary, Paris is basking in warm June sun, for the time being at least, and whilst I am pinning my hopes on the situation remaining I am also resigned to the idea that the thunderstorms which inexorably follow such delightful weather will be saving themselves patiently but no less vindictively for Wednesday evening, when I have a ticket for Rigoletto at the Open Air Opera (fortunately, being British, I have sensibly packed my umbrella and cagoule as well as my sunglasses).
Tomorrow being the first Sunday of the month, many of the main galleries are free to all, and I am planning my itinerary carefully - my favourite of all is the Musée d’Orsay, but I have learned from experience that the crowds gather early, and a more realistic scenario will be to forget it and wait until Monday when there is less likelihood of being squashed, bumped and due to my stature, beaten about the face by rucksacks (I have never understood why Americans keep these cumbersome objects on whilst indoors, and have always suspected that they may be discreetly counter-weighted in order to keep the wearer upright).
Indeed, a trip to Notre Dame for Mass may be altogether the safer option, followed by a trip to La Grand Épicerie on the left bank, which would be in the upper reaches of my list of favourite places in the world (to the extent that my first visit lasted only about a minute and a half, before the realisation that I may well weep with joy prompted a very swift exit to prepare mentally for another try). I now have it down to a fine art and can shop all departments with stoic impunity, unfortunately for both my weight and my purse; on the other hand, one valuable lesson I have learned over the years is that when on holiday it is as well not to worry about either, not least because it makes one incredibly wearing and tedious company, even if it is only for oneself.
Further updates will follow where possible, but as the Wi-fi in my charming studio flat has turned out to be temperamental in the Elton John-esque extreme, I will quickly thank the well-organised and thoughtful gentlemen who have kindly sent emails as requested, and enabled me to plan my diary for my return - it is looking like a very busy week and please note that I am away again from Wednesday 24th. I am still taking bookings for my London visit but there is very little availability left, and most of that is on the Friday - please do mail me for details! For the moment, however, I must say au revoir from the City of Lights - and please all wish me bon chance with the rucksack brigade…..
a little night music…
As you can imagine, preparations for my week in the City of Lights are well underway; thanks to the beautiful summer weather I have been laundering, mending, sorting and packing and most satisfyingly of all, have spent a happy afternoon decanting household essentials into little containers in order to avoid having to buy full size versions upon my arrival (although as I plan to stock up on my favourite Maison Verte Thyme-Basilic washing up liquid during my visit, at least one of these carefully poured mini bottles is beginning to look a bit superfluous).
I am thrifty by nature, and can also shamefully report that the gleaming metal trays of individual salt, pepper and sugar sachets available in McDonalds are slightly more denuded than usual following my pit-stop there last Thursday afternoon - I am told that holiday flats occasionally come equipped with these, but I cannot eat unseasoned food and decided that this (plus the prospect of unsugared tea) rendered the level of risk unacceptable. Plus, no matter what I say now, I will be needing my suitcase space on the way back.
The hunt for suitable musical background-accompaniment continues, and I have been rather taken with a speaker/ipod dock combo sold helpfully on Amazon - watch this space! I am having far more success with my new tack of removing unsuitable candidates from my ‘prospectives’ list rather than ploughing through over-many choices - goodbye Jilted John, Slipknot, the Specials and (sob) Tom Waits; hello Marvin Gaye, Prince, Roxy Music and the Cocteau Twins (jury still out on Stevie Wonder, Amy Winehouse and the Safety Dance by Men at Work. Only kidding).
As an alternative, a very enjoyable evening was spent skipping through my not-inconsiderable classical collection and my early thoughts were the section of my audio library containing these wonderful pieces would do nicely even practically unmoderated (Rhapsody in Blue, anyone?) until the dawning realisation that the rousing chorus of Handel’s Messiah (not the mention the relentlessly cheerful but wholly inappropriate Radzetsky March) whilst unarguably stirring stuff, may not prove particularly conducive to seduction of any kind.
This week has brought a surprisingly healthy level of visitors considering the school holidays have been upon us (a situation I first became aware of when I stepped out to call at the bank on Tuesday morning) and the pleasant weather has ensured that a relaxed and cheerful mood has pervaded the flat, although the gentleman who cancelled his appointment on the strength of a ridiculously emotive and poorly-informed newspaper article in last weekend’s press will not be winning any popularity contests, although sadly, he is by no means likely to be the only person taken in by this condescending rubbish.
In a nutshell; Woman (journalist) who is not a prostitute, and has not apparently spoken to any working prostitutes, places an escort advertisement on a little-used UK directory and is appalled to find that potential clients eagerly respond, to the tune of £1000 worth of bookings (incredible in itself, considering that Ms Press began phone conversations by asking these potential clients personal questions, and not surprisingly got hung up on more than once).
Ms Press summarises in the closing sentence that she ‘wouldn’t wish it (prostitution) as a career on anyone’, although as she did not actually accept and participate in any of said bookings, it is rather like me saying that I wouldn’t wish a job in an abbatoir on anybody even though I have never worked at or even been in an abbatoir, despite having often eaten steak that some would consider in need of a repeat visit (just to be on the safe side). In addition, and irrespective of whether or not it was my career preference, I would still also be capable of acknowledging that some abbatoirs are better, cleaner and more responsible operations than others, but the fact that EVERY industry is composed of myriad different sectors and levels, each with good and bad practitioners also seems to be lost on the good people at the Times. Slaughterhouses are not a perfect example, admittedly, and perhaps a better one would have been a career in politics.
Does anyone know if it is possible to sue these cretinous parasites for lost earnings, on the basis that they are printing unacceptable levels of patronising, badly researched, unsubstantiated bollocks? And coming up next, porcine avionics…
flash bang wallop what a picture!
As the not-entirely-subtle clue to the right of this text may have let on, I am very excited this week to have chosen, bought and finally today collected my brand new Nikon digital SLR camera (spanking new in fact, but I digress). This is (and see right) my first attempt!
My poor old compact has seen far better days and whilst the size and weight of my new acquisition will undoubtedly take some getting used to, it is for me at least a welcome return to the days of apertures, shutter speeds and colour balancing so beloved back in the days of my trusty old (inherited, I am really not THAT decrepit) Zenith - without the tiresome brown stains on the clothing and faint but pervasive smell of stop solution which accompanied me throughout most of my late teens. Needless to say, I have many ideas for interesting changes to my current array of pictures and will certainly be trying them out as soon as I can figure out how to get the self-timer to work, not to mention arranging myself delightfully in under ten seconds.
My thoughts have also turned this week amongst other things to aspects of my entertaining-room other than the visual, and after suggestions for final improvements from both callers and other ladies I am keen to invest in an appropriate source of accompaniment (namely an ipod dock, although I know nothing at all about these things and thus my research has so far got me no further than my usual and reassuringly familiar starting point of the Argos website). Apparently a common and useful practice is to arrange playlists comprising a sequence which lasts one hour, two hours and so on - this would certainly be helpful to me as I often forget to set my little clock out, and in the event that I remember, my appalling eyesight precludes me from actually reading it. As a result I must confess to making gentlemen callers late for post-visit engagements on more than one occasion recently, and whilst they have all been gallant enough not to complain, I do feel that a more concerted effort on my part is necessary to avoid this becoming commonplace; and apologies again to my charming companion who was supposed to be back for a meeting at one thirty today (oops).
As far as content goes, however, I will admit to struggling a little - having decidedly eclectic taste in music myself, I am probably the most unsuitable person on Earth to be contemplating such a project, particularly since my on-the-computer music library alone runs into a couple of thousand separate songs of all genres (although I daresay my burgeoning Big Band collection can safely be disregarded along with anything by either the Sex Pistols, Gogol Bordello or Girls Aloud). Any fellow music fans who think they may have a solution are welcome to make suggestions as is anyone else - please be aware that anything which could feasibly described as a power ballad will result in your number being blacklisted. I am very tolerant, as you know, but I have my limits too!
This coming week I will be continuing to practice my David Bailey impersonation and looking forward to a couple of much-anticipated visits before my trip in two weeks time. Incall availability is slowly but surely filling up, but appointments do remain - just please bear in mind that reasonable notice is required to avoid disappointment. And incidentally, to anyone who is wondering why I am wearing a top hat in the house, we have clearly never met.
ooh la la!
An eventful couple of weeks has led me to concede defeat and not-too-grudgingly book my long overdue trip to Paris! Regular readers will know that it has, astonishingly, been over a year since my last visit to my favourite city and whilst I am both pleased and flattered that the oft-discussed credit crunch has decided to give me a miss, the cracks are beginning to show and I have settled on my usual form of R&R, although my equally usual (and almost requisite) quantities of white bread, nearly-raw steak and crème brûlée will be scaled down somewhat and I have made efforts to this end by renting myself a pretty apartment (also scaled down, being as it is in it’s entirety some 10 square metres smaller than my living room) and am determined to only eat one meal out a day, not counting pastries.
As I will have my own private living space, I have decided to maintain a limited availability (as observers of my current front page will have noticed) and anyone who is reading who may perchance also be enjoying the City of Lights during that week is very welcome to call on me! I have not visited in June before and in addition to my usual haunts I intend to visit the catacombs (as every time I have been previously it has been too muddy), the cemetaries at Montmartre and Père Lachaise (as every time I have been recently it has been grey, overcast and therefore far too melancholy) and am also planning day trips out to Versailles and Giverny, home of Monet’s gardens and less than an hour away by train. It should be made clear that I am unlikely to be answering my work phone during my stay and will instead be checking voicemails once or twice a day, therefore advance booking by email is vital for anyone interested, but please do enquire if you are! (and for the terminally indecisive, the Eurostar starts at £59 return).
This week I can report that any rumours you may have heard that a property has changed hands in Scarborough are true, my previous and much-loved (but little-tidied) abode is officially sold, and the keys surrendered not without a little sadness, particularly since the closing stages of the process moved along so quickly that it’s planned last hurrah with a much adored and valued gentleman never got to take place; despite the lack of any suitable furniture or even floorcoverings I had felt it only appropriate that a suitable sendoff was celebrated but sadly it was not to be. That said, I have probably saved myself a few bruises.
Meanwhile, my new-and-improving pied à terre is coming along nicely, although my excitement at the huge response to my tiling plea was clearly a little premature, as the follow up regarding wallpapering has thus far yielded no takers, and I am beginning to come to terms with the idea that I will be undertaking this myself (or at the very least, paying somebody else to do it). This coming week I am coincidentally welcoming back two old acquaintances from the early days, both of whom are in for a pleasant surprise and a noticeable hike in the surrounding comfort levels. I myself am of course as comfortable as ever, and am likely to be more so following my sojourn which may well mean a few stricter weeks upon my return. C’est la vie!
A footnote - if the gentleman who left his leather gloves is reading this, please do get in touch as you know I am far too discreet to contact you! Possibly the more clement weather has meant you have not noticed them missing yet but be assured that they are safe until your return, and I will look forward to scolding you for making the flat untidy(er) soon.
swapsies
After the resounding success of my appeal for would-be tilers in my last ramble, I can report that the job is complete! Thus, to all those who are still emailing - your kindness is very much appreciated but I am now fully tiled and am turning my attentions to the equally tedious and depressing job of wallpapering.
I have walls to make good, line and paper, and whilst I should like to think that my enthusiastic attempts at plastering have helped matters along a little, the reverse is equally likely and I am now offering a free hour each for the preparation, and also for the papering itself. Materials and refreshents all provided (unless you have an exciting trade secret I am not likely to know about). Why didn’t I think of this before?
The tradition of barter is one which interests me and one of which many of us avail ourselves during more frugal times - in recent months I have heard from visitors and fellow ladies about trades of decorating, plumbing and electrical work as well as actual goods - about half an allotments-worth (by the sound of things) of fresh vegetables being one I particularly coveted as well as a new (unwanted by its owner) kitchen table and chairs. Brief research even shows that sales via barter exchange are considered taxable revenue in the US - not so here, as far as I can tell at least. That one’s for you, Mr Darling.
Preparations are going full steam ahead for my trip to London and despite it being two months away, availability is disappearing fast - special mention must go to the charming gentleman who recommended my lovely hotel upon booking and I will be enjoying the pool, spa and sauna facilities whenever I have the opportunity. I am assured that it is not only pleasant, well located and discretion personified, there are none of the insidious keycard-operated lifts that are becoming the scourge of hotel visits (and not only in London). At least one dull, tiresome, yet convincingly paranoid phone call (obviously in the name of checking room security) is required per location, and this grates considerably - surely having CCTV everywhere bar the rooms themselves (and nothing would surprise me) is enough?
This coming week it seems I am to be kept busy again; I have some availability left on Monday and Tuesday but little else, I’m afraid! I should also mention (again) that it is vitally important to confirm appointments and retain contact if you are running late, as I found today when a caller arrived half an hour late without bothering to let me know (and fifteen minutes after I had given up waiting) - if you really want to see me in my mangy decorating jeans that badly, please just make it part of your booking enquiry!
Don’t forget, would be decorators - your turn this week! Usual contact methods apply…
chocolate for jesus
Firstly, and before I sink completely and comfortingly into a praline-induced torpor, I would like to wish all my readers a very happy Easter - I have had a lovely, and unexpectedly busy few days welcoming visitors old and new (among them the kind gentleman who arrived bearing said pralines, plus an unexpected but very welcome caller who knew all about my half-finished bedroom floor and had several informative and thoughtful tips to offer on screeding).
The usually appalling weather reserved for our more auspicious Bank Holidays appears to be holding off for the moment and all is pleasant if a little grey and I, like many others, am turning my attention to matters practical - not brave enough to tackle B&Q during a Bank Holiday weekend itself I visited earlier in the week and have since sanded, tiled, plastered and painted in between the week’s assignations. The constantly improving appearance of the flat is sadly inversely proportional to my own (by my own admission, decidedly patchy, mangy and especially after the plastering, more than a little bumpy) but overall, I am holding my own, and a few knocks, bruises and broken nails nothwithstanding, I will be entertaining callers this week as usual.
For those several visitors who have been patiently awaiting one specific development, I can proudly announce that the mirror which has taken up residence on the floor around November-time has finally been affixed, although in doing so I discovered too late that the wall is not in fact flat and am thus planning the judicious application of No More Nails in order to secure it - annoying but a small price to pay and another good job done; likewise, the much anticipated living room carpet is ordered, paid for and finally on its way!
Obviously the fitting of huge carpets is not a job for a lone worker however enthusiastic (not to mention the small matter of moving a sofa roughly the size and weight of a Volkswagen) but despite the potential blips I am very much looking forward to enjoying the addition of yet another soft, tactile and comfortable surface to my inventory, and I am certain my visitors will feel the same, although I am afraid that a standard no-outdoor-footwear-on-the-new-carpet rule will be applied, and with no exceptions, so a little forethought sock-wise may be a worthwhile consideration for some (not that I would ever judge, as the few of you who have witnessed me resplendant in my socks will understand completely).
As the more vigilant among you will have also observed, I have begun planning my London trip in June; longer-standing readers will recall my delight at my purchase from the Royal Academy Summer Exhibition last year, and I will certainly be visiting this year’s offering with an open mind and a functioning debit card. I will be in the city from Wednesday 24th and have a particularly charming liaison planned for the Saturday already; my activities for the remainder of the visit are very much up to you! The likelihood is that I will staying around the Russell Square/Bloomsbury area, for no reason other than I found it very convenient and pleasant upon a recent visit, but it is early days - please do get in touch if you would like to discuss arrangements!
This weeks appeal is for anyone who is skilled in the art of tile-cutting - the sheer frustration in having destroyed probably a full box already in order to obtain 8 corner-sized pieces has rendered it clear that it would probably be cheaper to pay someone else to do it; barter price is one free hour for anyone who would like to finish off the kitchen. Worth a try!
time is on our side…
It only seems like days since I last expressed frustration at my seemingly limitless ineptitude when it comes to matters of science and technology, yet once again it is time for our twice yearly journey through time, such as it takes place in our particularly British way of ensuring that the change is subtle and minimal enough to irritate and perplex without causing major disruption of any kind - obviously this would never do (I strongly believe that if the tradition were introduced by one of the more exuberant nations, this ritual would be quite different and result in far more interesting consequences).
Needless to say, I did not quite trust myself to take appointments and instead spent the delightful sunny afternoon discovering the Hole of Horcum and Goathland (I will admit to misunderstanding the former as a somewhat crass and tasteless joke upon it’s initial suggestion by my companion, but all was soon smoothed over).
Regular visitors will also be glad to know that the long-awaited living room carpet will soon be in situ (thanks in no small part to a kindly visitor who turned out to be handy with a measuring tape) and bits of the place will be starting to look almost finished, although there is a long way to go yet. Anyone with any free time and DIY/decorating skills is welcome to pitch in - I am, as ever, open to offers!
I returned from a very enjoyable trip to Edinburgh on Friday - apologies to those who rang following my departure, but it always pays to be organised! I will be back before too long and also plan to visit Glasgow - a fine time was had by all and I will look forward to catching up with any of you who decide to venture south of the border, as well as those who I have promised to reconvene with the next time I am in the area!
Upon my arrival I was heartened to find my hotel clean and welcoming, the restaurants well priced and friendly; although not as friendly as the locals - and my heartfelt apologies to the anonymous people in the next room; I have no way of knowing the fundaments of hotel construction, but it would seem that the current fashion is to utilise the thinnest material that is practical for all surfaces both horizontal and vertical, and I feared more than once for the bathroom wall (although as I am nowadays of a more resourceful and practical nature, I believe I could have effectively concealed any damage, at least for long to shunt the blame onto the next occupant, and managed to carefully cover an accidental black shoe-mark on the wall with toothpaste before I left).
Availability-wise, this week is almost booked up already, and I am looking forward to some pleasant and distracting company, in between getting my records all up to date in preparation for my regular visit to my charming accountant in Leeds. Longer-standing visitors may also be interested to know that my previous abode appears to be sold - an offer has been made and accepted, and I am gearing up to stave off the media attention which seems likely to be linked with an actual property sale in the current climate; Lord alone knows that the Evening News has precious little else to put on it’s pages. At risk of appearing overly pessimistic, there is plenty of time for something to go wrong yet, and I will keep you informed - a sale will naturally mean something of an unexpected windfall when it comes to my new place and could cover some extra-special new facilities or furnishings - any interesting ideas please email to the usual address. Watch this space - I have a few ideas of my own!
never were there such devoted sisters…
I am spending this warm and uncommonly sunny Wednesday relaxing after a lively week and livelier weekend, the vast majority of it blissfully replete with delightful and enthusiastic company; the notable exception being an afternoon spent at the TUC Women’s Conference, where I found myself (accompanying the fabulous Catherine Stephens of the IUSW) on Thursday afternoon of last week. Catherine was kind enough to put up with my ramblings without even the back-click facility provided to my readers, and I hope to see her again soon for more discussion on, amongst other things, the best way to get a dozen or so metres of silk rope through an airport, and stories of appearances on poorly-informed TV news programmes - indeed, many of you will have seen and heard her, even if you don’t realise it.
Having spent the previous 24 hours travelling to London and back for a whistlestop liasion with a rather handsome New Yorker, I was singularly (and a little naively) unprepared for being patronised and insulted to within an inch of my life by a room full of decidedly sturdy women who solemnly informed Conference that sex workers not only cannot speak for themselves, but are ‘forced into an evil trade’ (predictably by evil, unscrupulous men - not an evil, unscrupulous woman in sight) and held captive at the mercy of pimps and drug dealers whilst we ’sell our bodies’ - a bizarre enough statement in itself; mine is certainly still very much my own and I know this not least because I alone have to feed it, wash it and take it out.
I possess neither the will, nor the patience to relay any of this in detail, but for those of you who may be interested, do click here. I respectfully suggest you remove any valued breakables from the vicinity before embarking on the ‘Comments’ section.
The type of emotive twaddle (constant use of ‘women-and-children’, as if they were the same, many, MANY references to ‘pimps’, with no distinction made as to those running good, safe premises and those keeping their charges drugged and locked in veal crates), was not only infuriating but not a little saddening - it is ironic indeed that these statements had throughout the afternoon been interlaced with cries for solidarity and sisterhood, presumably this is by invitation only, and the welcome is limited to those whose views and experience concur with the majority one expressed on the floor. This is what we’re up against, folks.
In the interest of self preservation and anonymity, I am more than slightly ashamed to say that I kept my mouth shut throughout - indeed, myself and the many wonderful, responsible and hardworking ladies like me are condemned to silence in any such discussion by the very quality which makes us what we are - our invisibility. Unfortunately, it would appear we are stuck with these attitudes for now, but there were voices of encouragement and support, and while it may be a long haul, the seeds of common sense were sown wherever possible.
My trip to Edinburgh beckons next week and I am very much looking forward to it! Staying in the same hotel room for more than a few hours will be novelty enough, and I am looking forward to meeting some charming local gentlemen during my visit (and hopefully stocking up on shortbread and at least one proper haggis, the joys of which I discovered many moons ago and do not get to indulge in nearly often enough). There is still some small availability left for the Wednesday - please do get in touch! I intend to spend the remainder of this afternoon leisurely painting toenails, curling hair and other traitorous activities prior to a late meeting at eleven - after all, there is only so much solidarity I can take in one week. I may even wear a dress.