Every time I have a holiday with a friend, I don't have time to blog it, and lose the strength to afterwards. I am resolved to finish this one. I'm also sick of referring to everyone at home by number. It was fine for Cinecism, when I didn't need to mention them often, but now it's getting irritating. Plus, there are other people I need to abbreviate to numbers. In consequence, they're being renamed as Aventia, Caelia, Capitolina, Palatina, Quirinala and Viminala - and the first person to get the reference gets an imaginary cookie. No, I haven't attributed all the names yet, but today's story is about Palatina and Caelia.
Because this is a monster post, I'm actually going to use subject headings. It's worth reading.
Day 1
...began with me arriving an hour early at Waterloo to pick Caelia up. I got my times wrong, but it was nice in a way, because it was the first time off I'd had all week. I'd even brought my Iliad in case there was a place to work. There wasn't. I love the Southbank area, so I went for a walk. I had twin aims: I wanted to visit the BFI, just because as a film student, it's my spiritual home in a sense. I like to touch down there every few months, purely for supersticious, sentimental reasons. And I like ambling about there. My second aim was to buy an ice cream. No idea where that came from, but I wanted ice cream. So I ambled off, and was amused to find an ice cream van on my route. I hung around for a bit, as it was across a busy road, but decided my life wasn't worth it - and as I turned around, I spotted my salvation.
The Topolski Century, or, my first loving brush with splatty art
I was through the door almost before I'd read the words "free art gallery." Under one of the Southbank's many arches and bridges, they'd snuck in a huge art installation. It was love at first sight.
Feliks Topolski is one of those people you hear about and think "how do I have your life?" He was born in Warsaw around the turn of the century, and transformed himself into the journalist Forrest Gump. He was in Europe for World War 2, London for the Blitz, America for the race riots. He witnessed the Chinese Revolution, met the Black Panthers, and visited Bergen Belsen after the end of the war. And he drew. For much of his life, he hand-printed the "Topolski Chronicle" - a broadsheet of doodles from wherever he was or whatever he was doing at the time. A bit like me, in a way - except typically, Topolski was off meeting Evelyn Waugh, George Bernard Shaw, Ghandi or Martin Luther King. The George Bernard Shaw is one of my favourites, it's so darn cute.
Topolski's Century is the final product of this marvellous life. He's transformed his experience of the world's hugest events into one ongoing mural, 600ft high, winding it's way around two huge spaces. It's in that splatty, expressionist style I hate hate most of the time, but this is staggering stuff. I'm very, very close to voluenteering to man the door next term, because I think it's a cause worth hours of my time every week. I've found images on the web, but they don't do it justice - everyone who comes to visit me, from now onwards, will be my excuse to visit the Century again!
Among my favourites were "100 Hippies", which is what it sounds like, and the terrifying one of the Black Panthers. You had to pass a door from Newgate Gaol, which already had me creeped, and the mural itself was black and huge. But you kept picking out faces. I bought a postcard, I had to - true, it didn't convey being there, but the point of souveneirs is to remind you of good times, plus I want to support it. This is my postcard:
http://www.felikstopolski.com/chicago20.htm
It's of protests at Grant Park in the 60s, and I love the way the Riot Police form this unreal swarming wave over the picture.
Caelia arrives
The postcard did not leave me much for lunch. It's a travesty that you can't get a drink and a snack in central London for less than £5. I went to Cranberry, which is like pick'n'mix for adults/hippies/health-food-freaks/borgeosie, and was pestered by the girl behind the desk while I tried to assess the huge range of options. She finally ended up bullying me into getting a bag of honey-cashews, an act I only half resented - I'd intended to get something anyway, it was just the choice which had me stumped.
Caelia arrived about ten minutes later, and was quick to compliment my coat. Meeting people in public places is hard, so I tend to dress even more outlandishly than usual - and I'd promised to meet her dressed as Colin Baker's Doctor. We ambled across to catch a bus home - it's cheaper and nicer than the Tube, plus the 13 goes via Oxford Street, Baker Street, Trafalgar Square and Picadilly Circus. Caelia has never been to London, which resulted in me drowning her with my love for the city. Apparently, it's not like she expected - but she couldn't quite define what that was. More windey streets. Which struck me as so instinctively bizzare, because London is so much that gothic Victorian brickwork for it's underbelly, and that overwrought neo-classical Victorian architecture up top. We crossed Waterloo bridge, and I got excited for the both of us that we were passing Big Ben and the London Eye. Caelia was thoroughly absorbed by people-watching on the bus, and I can't blame her: it's one of the things I love best about the place. She later remarked that everyone seemed to be exaggerated types. She's right, but I wonder why? Is it because there are so many people that the real cliches stand out, or is it just this place?
Back with the Dude
Once we got home, I had to do the dishes then tidy my room. I'd been too busy working to do it before, and I'm ashamed to note both were in a state. Well, not that ashamed. Not ashamed at all. I had done my dishes, of course, before leaving Uni - but then we'd had an "end of term" party, which instantly undid my good work. Caelia looked through my drawings file while I did this, and then we played the Game.
This was, predictably, very funny, devious and overcomplicated. Tea was what could be scraped together - I produced Baileys, Peanut Butter, rice, dark chocolate, veggie sausages, smoothie, cereal bars, peas and egg fried rice, from which we made a nice dish. She was very enthusiastic about my new smoothie.
Watching a bit of Who
And then we trekked off to the TV room. Doctor Who is an infinite format, moving from space opera, via comedy, to gothic opera or pure science fiction. Four to Doomsday is the ultimate demonstration of this - it's completely and utterly nuts. It features repeated scenes of Chinese Dragon-dances and Aboriginal customs, on a spaceship orbiting Earth, ruled over by an incompetant space-frog named Monarch who thinks he is God - and whose master plan, by the way, is to travel faster than light so he can go back in time to the beginning of the universe, believing he will meet himself there. And there are robots. If you can handle all that - and it's easier than you think, as it's very well done on marvellously convincing sets - then this is a genius episode.
And it's got very good characterisation for three of the shows most misunderstood companions, which is why we watched it - Caelia loves Adric, and he's great in it. After that, we watched the Trial of a Timelord deleted scenes. Those for the awfully convoluted Terror of the Vervoids were particularly amusing, as taken out of context they made no sense at all. You could even have reinserted them at random, without making the plot any more clear - or any more confusing. I've always kidded that you could skip the third episode without losing anything from that episode. The whole Trial is 14 parts long. Vervoids part 3 is Trial episode 11, and by that point you really do want to get on with it. The idea of the episode 15 minutes longer causes me pain.
Two in particular, both Valeyard related ones, did not deserve to be cut. In those cut pieces, it appears one of his eyes is blue and the other brown. Not that there's a problem with that disability, but in context I found it very creepy. I do draw Valeyards, mossy with ink and shading - but when I got back to my room, I tried my best to draw him again: insane, with mismatched eyes, and totally Topolskified. Didn't wholly work, as my style is neat, precice and detailed - I can't bear to risk ruining a perfect work enough to ever be an impressionist. Even though at that moment, a portrait in thick black brush was exactly what I wanted to draw. I might practice this when I get home, because Topolski is my new hero.
We left after that, as poor Caelia had been travelling all day. We talked weddings, for a long time: dresses, bridesmaids dresses. Even though I'd rather not have a flashy wedding, I do know how I would have one. I don't like the cost, and I don't like the responsibility, and in all honesty, I'm not sure I could ever stand up and be that romantic in public. If I do marry, I want to know about an hour in advance. You're all invited to the party afterwards.
But it was fun to discuss colours and cloths for a bit, and Caelia explained her design for a subtle Dalek-inspired bridesmaid's dress. This blossomed into us trying to convert every Doctor Who villain into a wearable outfit, and some of the sketches will be on Deviant Art, once exams are over.
Day 2
SHOPPING SPREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
We started on the Strand Stamp Centre, and Caelia thought I was joking when I said I had a local Doctor Who shop, but if you've been there you'll know it's heaven, more or less. I'd decided to buy, at long last, the 1986 Annual. I've looked at it longingly for several months now, and I was out of Colin Baker signables too. I'll discuss this more later, but it's not just about having an autograph - it does matter what gets signed, and I correctly decided the annual would be worth treasuring. I later saw the same annual for £10 cheaper at the convention, but didn't feel too bad about it. A shop wholly dedicated to Doctor Who can't be making that much, so a bit like buying at your local coffee shop instead of Starbucks, I feel duty bound to buy from there if anywhere. I always check there before Forbidden Planet, because I do want to support it: it feels like family. And the guy at the desk said hi, as always, and asked how I'd enjoyed the Easter special. I asked about the next signing, which I won't be going to, and he asked if I had a new hat. Hell, the shop is between my bus stop and my university - so if I get into London early, I always go in for a browse. It's a sort of home.
From there we moved up and onwards to Covent Garden. I've loved it ever since reading The Adventuress of Henrietta Street, a regency novel set there. It was part of my Jack the Ripper phase, and gave me a real sense of the age and history of the place. We watched the usual string quartet play Mozart, Purcell and the like, and then witnessed an appalling magic trick. We found a perfect 6th Doctor waistcoat for my costume, in multi-colour checks - but in £60 pure silk, so we passed by.
By that point I was feeling quite ill: I had the misfortune that the Dread Monthly Misfortune struck on two days in which I had to do a lot of walking. By the time we reached FCUK, I was feeling really queasy and had to sit down. Caelia had spotted from the bus that the brand had a tie in with the new Wolverine film, and she's a huge Wolverine fan, so we were there to look at their T-shirts. Wow - there was about 6 or 7 very nice designs indeed, the only problem being that they were naturally only men's styles. But she found a few she liked - helped, she says, by a very nice male shop assistant who assumed she was buying it for someone else - and with a little encouragement, tried them on.
I am staggered by how good it looks. I'm still staggered - it was a nice design, but you wouldn't see it and think "thats a men's tee" in the way one usually does with the nicest cult t-shirts. Plus, they were giving away free Wolverine dog-tags with them. Result = one very happy Caelia.
We then went next door, which had gorgeous dresses in a fantastic sale - one of the times I was glad I don't buy clothes unless I absolutely have to. I also kept an eye out for my green trainers I intend to buy, but saw nothing totally suitable.
From there onwards to Forbidden Planet! I'll never tire of that shop. Having Caelia there made me feel like I was on holiday, so I did indulge. In retrospect, I probably should have talked myself out of buying two packs of Watchmen armbands. I hated the little rubber band fashion, hated the hypocracy. Sure it was a great way to donate to charity, but once it was a fashion item I had six months of people proudly wearing their good deeds on their arms. Then the big brands noticed, made fashion variations without the charity element, and - oh, thank goodness that's gone.
But I want to wear a band reading "Rorschach is my hero" on my wrist, because he is, I love him to bits and want the world to know. Unfortunately, there were about 10 designs, but in pre-packaged packs, so you couldn't mix and match. A pity, as I'd still have bought 4 - but 4 I really wanted. I picked up a second pack, because there was one reading "I trust in Ozymandeus", and I simply couldn't resist it. They will probably end up in the sale, ultimately, in which case I'll hope that the third one I really wanted - "R.I.P. Edward Morgan Blake", with his dates - is still there.
I was also sorely tempted by the Rorshach steel lunchbox. Think of the versitility! By day, you can store your sandwiches and snacks - by night, perfect for transporting hacksaws, thumbscrews and other toys for punishing wrongdoers with! But I resisted.
In any case, Caelia also managed to find two of the Doctor Who Telos Novellas which had been mega reduced. The damn things are about £20, hardback and mega-exclusive, so I've never bought one, but she somehow managed to find two reduced to £6 which had been under my nose for months - both signed by the author, the editor, the artist and Sylvester McCoy. I find it hard to say no to Doctor Who books as it is, but the potential value of the thing in 20 years - the Telos books all had a limited run of 2000 - was a lovely excuse. Mine is number 1335.
Caelia spent more than I did. At this point, it's still within my memory to calculate how much that was by the end of the day - but I don't really want to do that, so I'm going to let myself forget. The only other moment of comedy was passing an item I've intended to get her for her birthday for over 8 months now, and managing to stand in front of it before she spotted it.
We broke for lunch at this point, at a lovely Indian restaurant which mugged Caelia with it's gorgeous smells as we walked past. I had a salad, she had a mini-curry, and the entire serving staff were apparently very amused that we'd both asked for tap water: on top of my salad were two green chillies. As if to say, if you're going to ask for water, we'll give you a reason to need it. Not in a nasty way - they made fun of me every time they passed, and I did give one of them three or four experimental nibbles. No way could I eat the lot! We shared ice creams for dessert.
Caelia decided she wanted a TARDIS key from the first shop, but I planned a roundabout route back. So we went through Chinatown, Leicester Square, Soho - my good work at persuading her that the area was fine, and I'd never seen an instant's trouble walking through there was spoilt for actually seeing trouble and feeling slightly endangered there for the first time in my life. Down via the joys of Berwick street, where Caelia picked up a Marvel heroes bag. I discovered that the corset I'd fallen in love with was still in the shop, and at a bargain price of £60. I may still return for it. The problem is my propensity for fainting - I'm not sure if I could ever wear it in public for a long space of time and be sure of being fine. Yet it does such wonders for posture...!
I need either Calypso to come with me and talk me into it, or my mum to come to London and give it the OK.
Back down Oxford Street, in and out of Dorothy Perkins, Marks and Spencers, all the way to Hamleys. Mainly because I wanted to show her the Narnia staircase. We also found a nice young man doing some brilliant magic tricks there. Outside we got ambushed by a fantastically cheery young woman, promoting Victoria Jackson products. She's the consultant on America's Next Top Model - possibly my favourite reality show, by the way - about to set up shop in London, and was doing some market research - which involved a truly awesome make-up deal. The fact her little bag of goodies was reduced all the way to £25 was not as shocking as the fact it would be £260 in stores once they opened. But apparently, according to Caelia, £25 for that amount of make-up full stop was a bargain. Let's put it this way: the girl told us the deal was £25 instead of £30 because they'd lost the gift bags. Caelia did go for it, although she later told me she'd never ever buy from the shop once it got going. For a store which marks it's prices up by £5 for a bag - well, I'm inclined to agree!
It was that that threw my schedule off - I was sure we'd make it back to the Strand in time, but that fifteen minutes were the deal breaker. It doesn't seem far to me, in my mind - but it is, and it was shut by the time we'd route-marched back. From there, we got the bus home - via the supermarket, where Caelia put herself in charge of tea (thank goodness) and we later made a cheap chillie. My part of the cooking was producing two Oreo shakes, and we discovered by chance that the perfect way to stop the biscuit settling at the top was to give it a stir with a Pocky stick.
Vapilla had returned by this point, so she joined us for three Games - one of which she won, the other two went to Caelia. We called it a night pretty early - both had to shower, I had to plait my hair, and we had to plan our bags for the Convention tomorrow.
Did we sleep, for excitement? Did we hell...
Full post on that coming shortly!
Because this is a monster post, I'm actually going to use subject headings. It's worth reading.
Day 1
...began with me arriving an hour early at Waterloo to pick Caelia up. I got my times wrong, but it was nice in a way, because it was the first time off I'd had all week. I'd even brought my Iliad in case there was a place to work. There wasn't. I love the Southbank area, so I went for a walk. I had twin aims: I wanted to visit the BFI, just because as a film student, it's my spiritual home in a sense. I like to touch down there every few months, purely for supersticious, sentimental reasons. And I like ambling about there. My second aim was to buy an ice cream. No idea where that came from, but I wanted ice cream. So I ambled off, and was amused to find an ice cream van on my route. I hung around for a bit, as it was across a busy road, but decided my life wasn't worth it - and as I turned around, I spotted my salvation.
The Topolski Century, or, my first loving brush with splatty art
I was through the door almost before I'd read the words "free art gallery." Under one of the Southbank's many arches and bridges, they'd snuck in a huge art installation. It was love at first sight.
Feliks Topolski is one of those people you hear about and think "how do I have your life?" He was born in Warsaw around the turn of the century, and transformed himself into the journalist Forrest Gump. He was in Europe for World War 2, London for the Blitz, America for the race riots. He witnessed the Chinese Revolution, met the Black Panthers, and visited Bergen Belsen after the end of the war. And he drew. For much of his life, he hand-printed the "Topolski Chronicle" - a broadsheet of doodles from wherever he was or whatever he was doing at the time. A bit like me, in a way - except typically, Topolski was off meeting Evelyn Waugh, George Bernard Shaw, Ghandi or Martin Luther King. The George Bernard Shaw is one of my favourites, it's so darn cute.
Topolski's Century is the final product of this marvellous life. He's transformed his experience of the world's hugest events into one ongoing mural, 600ft high, winding it's way around two huge spaces. It's in that splatty, expressionist style I hate hate most of the time, but this is staggering stuff. I'm very, very close to voluenteering to man the door next term, because I think it's a cause worth hours of my time every week. I've found images on the web, but they don't do it justice - everyone who comes to visit me, from now onwards, will be my excuse to visit the Century again!
Among my favourites were "100 Hippies", which is what it sounds like, and the terrifying one of the Black Panthers. You had to pass a door from Newgate Gaol, which already had me creeped, and the mural itself was black and huge. But you kept picking out faces. I bought a postcard, I had to - true, it didn't convey being there, but the point of souveneirs is to remind you of good times, plus I want to support it. This is my postcard:
http://www.felikstopolski.com/chicago20.htm
It's of protests at Grant Park in the 60s, and I love the way the Riot Police form this unreal swarming wave over the picture.
Caelia arrives
The postcard did not leave me much for lunch. It's a travesty that you can't get a drink and a snack in central London for less than £5. I went to Cranberry, which is like pick'n'mix for adults/hippies/health-food-freaks/borgeosie, and was pestered by the girl behind the desk while I tried to assess the huge range of options. She finally ended up bullying me into getting a bag of honey-cashews, an act I only half resented - I'd intended to get something anyway, it was just the choice which had me stumped.
Caelia arrived about ten minutes later, and was quick to compliment my coat. Meeting people in public places is hard, so I tend to dress even more outlandishly than usual - and I'd promised to meet her dressed as Colin Baker's Doctor. We ambled across to catch a bus home - it's cheaper and nicer than the Tube, plus the 13 goes via Oxford Street, Baker Street, Trafalgar Square and Picadilly Circus. Caelia has never been to London, which resulted in me drowning her with my love for the city. Apparently, it's not like she expected - but she couldn't quite define what that was. More windey streets. Which struck me as so instinctively bizzare, because London is so much that gothic Victorian brickwork for it's underbelly, and that overwrought neo-classical Victorian architecture up top. We crossed Waterloo bridge, and I got excited for the both of us that we were passing Big Ben and the London Eye. Caelia was thoroughly absorbed by people-watching on the bus, and I can't blame her: it's one of the things I love best about the place. She later remarked that everyone seemed to be exaggerated types. She's right, but I wonder why? Is it because there are so many people that the real cliches stand out, or is it just this place?
Back with the Dude
Once we got home, I had to do the dishes then tidy my room. I'd been too busy working to do it before, and I'm ashamed to note both were in a state. Well, not that ashamed. Not ashamed at all. I had done my dishes, of course, before leaving Uni - but then we'd had an "end of term" party, which instantly undid my good work. Caelia looked through my drawings file while I did this, and then we played the Game.
This was, predictably, very funny, devious and overcomplicated. Tea was what could be scraped together - I produced Baileys, Peanut Butter, rice, dark chocolate, veggie sausages, smoothie, cereal bars, peas and egg fried rice, from which we made a nice dish. She was very enthusiastic about my new smoothie.
Watching a bit of Who
And then we trekked off to the TV room. Doctor Who is an infinite format, moving from space opera, via comedy, to gothic opera or pure science fiction. Four to Doomsday is the ultimate demonstration of this - it's completely and utterly nuts. It features repeated scenes of Chinese Dragon-dances and Aboriginal customs, on a spaceship orbiting Earth, ruled over by an incompetant space-frog named Monarch who thinks he is God - and whose master plan, by the way, is to travel faster than light so he can go back in time to the beginning of the universe, believing he will meet himself there. And there are robots. If you can handle all that - and it's easier than you think, as it's very well done on marvellously convincing sets - then this is a genius episode.
And it's got very good characterisation for three of the shows most misunderstood companions, which is why we watched it - Caelia loves Adric, and he's great in it. After that, we watched the Trial of a Timelord deleted scenes. Those for the awfully convoluted Terror of the Vervoids were particularly amusing, as taken out of context they made no sense at all. You could even have reinserted them at random, without making the plot any more clear - or any more confusing. I've always kidded that you could skip the third episode without losing anything from that episode. The whole Trial is 14 parts long. Vervoids part 3 is Trial episode 11, and by that point you really do want to get on with it. The idea of the episode 15 minutes longer causes me pain.
Two in particular, both Valeyard related ones, did not deserve to be cut. In those cut pieces, it appears one of his eyes is blue and the other brown. Not that there's a problem with that disability, but in context I found it very creepy. I do draw Valeyards, mossy with ink and shading - but when I got back to my room, I tried my best to draw him again: insane, with mismatched eyes, and totally Topolskified. Didn't wholly work, as my style is neat, precice and detailed - I can't bear to risk ruining a perfect work enough to ever be an impressionist. Even though at that moment, a portrait in thick black brush was exactly what I wanted to draw. I might practice this when I get home, because Topolski is my new hero.
We left after that, as poor Caelia had been travelling all day. We talked weddings, for a long time: dresses, bridesmaids dresses. Even though I'd rather not have a flashy wedding, I do know how I would have one. I don't like the cost, and I don't like the responsibility, and in all honesty, I'm not sure I could ever stand up and be that romantic in public. If I do marry, I want to know about an hour in advance. You're all invited to the party afterwards.
But it was fun to discuss colours and cloths for a bit, and Caelia explained her design for a subtle Dalek-inspired bridesmaid's dress. This blossomed into us trying to convert every Doctor Who villain into a wearable outfit, and some of the sketches will be on Deviant Art, once exams are over.
Day 2
SHOPPING SPREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
We started on the Strand Stamp Centre, and Caelia thought I was joking when I said I had a local Doctor Who shop, but if you've been there you'll know it's heaven, more or less. I'd decided to buy, at long last, the 1986 Annual. I've looked at it longingly for several months now, and I was out of Colin Baker signables too. I'll discuss this more later, but it's not just about having an autograph - it does matter what gets signed, and I correctly decided the annual would be worth treasuring. I later saw the same annual for £10 cheaper at the convention, but didn't feel too bad about it. A shop wholly dedicated to Doctor Who can't be making that much, so a bit like buying at your local coffee shop instead of Starbucks, I feel duty bound to buy from there if anywhere. I always check there before Forbidden Planet, because I do want to support it: it feels like family. And the guy at the desk said hi, as always, and asked how I'd enjoyed the Easter special. I asked about the next signing, which I won't be going to, and he asked if I had a new hat. Hell, the shop is between my bus stop and my university - so if I get into London early, I always go in for a browse. It's a sort of home.
From there we moved up and onwards to Covent Garden. I've loved it ever since reading The Adventuress of Henrietta Street, a regency novel set there. It was part of my Jack the Ripper phase, and gave me a real sense of the age and history of the place. We watched the usual string quartet play Mozart, Purcell and the like, and then witnessed an appalling magic trick. We found a perfect 6th Doctor waistcoat for my costume, in multi-colour checks - but in £60 pure silk, so we passed by.
By that point I was feeling quite ill: I had the misfortune that the Dread Monthly Misfortune struck on two days in which I had to do a lot of walking. By the time we reached FCUK, I was feeling really queasy and had to sit down. Caelia had spotted from the bus that the brand had a tie in with the new Wolverine film, and she's a huge Wolverine fan, so we were there to look at their T-shirts. Wow - there was about 6 or 7 very nice designs indeed, the only problem being that they were naturally only men's styles. But she found a few she liked - helped, she says, by a very nice male shop assistant who assumed she was buying it for someone else - and with a little encouragement, tried them on.
I am staggered by how good it looks. I'm still staggered - it was a nice design, but you wouldn't see it and think "thats a men's tee" in the way one usually does with the nicest cult t-shirts. Plus, they were giving away free Wolverine dog-tags with them. Result = one very happy Caelia.
We then went next door, which had gorgeous dresses in a fantastic sale - one of the times I was glad I don't buy clothes unless I absolutely have to. I also kept an eye out for my green trainers I intend to buy, but saw nothing totally suitable.
From there onwards to Forbidden Planet! I'll never tire of that shop. Having Caelia there made me feel like I was on holiday, so I did indulge. In retrospect, I probably should have talked myself out of buying two packs of Watchmen armbands. I hated the little rubber band fashion, hated the hypocracy. Sure it was a great way to donate to charity, but once it was a fashion item I had six months of people proudly wearing their good deeds on their arms. Then the big brands noticed, made fashion variations without the charity element, and - oh, thank goodness that's gone.
But I want to wear a band reading "Rorschach is my hero" on my wrist, because he is, I love him to bits and want the world to know. Unfortunately, there were about 10 designs, but in pre-packaged packs, so you couldn't mix and match. A pity, as I'd still have bought 4 - but 4 I really wanted. I picked up a second pack, because there was one reading "I trust in Ozymandeus", and I simply couldn't resist it. They will probably end up in the sale, ultimately, in which case I'll hope that the third one I really wanted - "R.I.P. Edward Morgan Blake", with his dates - is still there.
I was also sorely tempted by the Rorshach steel lunchbox. Think of the versitility! By day, you can store your sandwiches and snacks - by night, perfect for transporting hacksaws, thumbscrews and other toys for punishing wrongdoers with! But I resisted.
In any case, Caelia also managed to find two of the Doctor Who Telos Novellas which had been mega reduced. The damn things are about £20, hardback and mega-exclusive, so I've never bought one, but she somehow managed to find two reduced to £6 which had been under my nose for months - both signed by the author, the editor, the artist and Sylvester McCoy. I find it hard to say no to Doctor Who books as it is, but the potential value of the thing in 20 years - the Telos books all had a limited run of 2000 - was a lovely excuse. Mine is number 1335.
Caelia spent more than I did. At this point, it's still within my memory to calculate how much that was by the end of the day - but I don't really want to do that, so I'm going to let myself forget. The only other moment of comedy was passing an item I've intended to get her for her birthday for over 8 months now, and managing to stand in front of it before she spotted it.
We broke for lunch at this point, at a lovely Indian restaurant which mugged Caelia with it's gorgeous smells as we walked past. I had a salad, she had a mini-curry, and the entire serving staff were apparently very amused that we'd both asked for tap water: on top of my salad were two green chillies. As if to say, if you're going to ask for water, we'll give you a reason to need it. Not in a nasty way - they made fun of me every time they passed, and I did give one of them three or four experimental nibbles. No way could I eat the lot! We shared ice creams for dessert.
Caelia decided she wanted a TARDIS key from the first shop, but I planned a roundabout route back. So we went through Chinatown, Leicester Square, Soho - my good work at persuading her that the area was fine, and I'd never seen an instant's trouble walking through there was spoilt for actually seeing trouble and feeling slightly endangered there for the first time in my life. Down via the joys of Berwick street, where Caelia picked up a Marvel heroes bag. I discovered that the corset I'd fallen in love with was still in the shop, and at a bargain price of £60. I may still return for it. The problem is my propensity for fainting - I'm not sure if I could ever wear it in public for a long space of time and be sure of being fine. Yet it does such wonders for posture...!
I need either Calypso to come with me and talk me into it, or my mum to come to London and give it the OK.
Back down Oxford Street, in and out of Dorothy Perkins, Marks and Spencers, all the way to Hamleys. Mainly because I wanted to show her the Narnia staircase. We also found a nice young man doing some brilliant magic tricks there. Outside we got ambushed by a fantastically cheery young woman, promoting Victoria Jackson products. She's the consultant on America's Next Top Model - possibly my favourite reality show, by the way - about to set up shop in London, and was doing some market research - which involved a truly awesome make-up deal. The fact her little bag of goodies was reduced all the way to £25 was not as shocking as the fact it would be £260 in stores once they opened. But apparently, according to Caelia, £25 for that amount of make-up full stop was a bargain. Let's put it this way: the girl told us the deal was £25 instead of £30 because they'd lost the gift bags. Caelia did go for it, although she later told me she'd never ever buy from the shop once it got going. For a store which marks it's prices up by £5 for a bag - well, I'm inclined to agree!
It was that that threw my schedule off - I was sure we'd make it back to the Strand in time, but that fifteen minutes were the deal breaker. It doesn't seem far to me, in my mind - but it is, and it was shut by the time we'd route-marched back. From there, we got the bus home - via the supermarket, where Caelia put herself in charge of tea (thank goodness) and we later made a cheap chillie. My part of the cooking was producing two Oreo shakes, and we discovered by chance that the perfect way to stop the biscuit settling at the top was to give it a stir with a Pocky stick.
Vapilla had returned by this point, so she joined us for three Games - one of which she won, the other two went to Caelia. We called it a night pretty early - both had to shower, I had to plait my hair, and we had to plan our bags for the Convention tomorrow.
Did we sleep, for excitement? Did we hell...
Full post on that coming shortly!
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