THE GREY MATTER

 I don't think I have many grey hairs. And the few that I do have are lovingly, cunningly, expensively, time-consumingly disguised by Sibi at my hairdressers. Yet every time I wear a black or navy sweater they seem to come forth and multiply. My shoulders are always the proud owners of at least five pure white strands of hair that seems to have fallen off someone else's head. It's the weirdest thing. It's as though mysterious forces have carefully plucked these neon white strangers off my head and deposited them like badges of honour on my shoulders. Anyone else noticed this? Is this where grey hairs are laid to rest? Black and blue are becoming the new, unwanted grey....

FINAL RESOLUTIONS

Just to be both perverse and practical, I'm doing my New Year Resolutions upside down. I'm taking stock of all the things I DON'T want to do in 2012- as opposed to being sanctimonious and listing targets I want to achieve. So this year I am:
1. Never going to speak to electronic voices on the end of the telephone; I'm only going to converse with real people. This will stop me getting frustrated and furious.
2. I'm not going to get excited, pretend to be excited or get involved with the Olympics. I hate them.
3. I'm going to be totally honest about the fact I love watching mindless TV shows called things like "Nanny 911" or " The 75 Stone Woman". They switch my mind off and are a strange form of relaxation.
4. I'm going to continue drinking through January and enjoy it. I don't drink nearly enough to be voluntarily dry for a month.
5. I'm going to accept the fact I need very little sleep and just meet other insomniacs for breakfast.
6. I'm going to eat more chocolate as it makes me happy.
7. I'm going to try to do things that enhance my life ( no matter how big or small) and stop bothering with the small.

I'm also not going to feel guilty about any of the above. Onwards and upwards 2012. Bring it on.

E-eeeeeeek!

Mimi rant. The total weird pointlessness of e-Xmas cards. What is that all about??? They all go into my Spam and then eventually one opens them....and? Do they fill one with joy? No. Do they make one feel warm and fuzzy inside? No. Are they annoying in their thoughtlessness? Yes. Sod green-ness and eco-friendly wishes, I actually think they are an impertanance.

SAVE THE DATE - AFTER CHRISTMAS

There are some assumptions that ought to be put on the back-burner. Preferably to burn. I have an allergic reaction to being asked to "save the date" at this time of year. Firstly - who are these uber-organised busy bodies that are already forward-planning dinner parties in March 2012 when most mortals are at the epicentre of the social storm known as Christmas? I can't be alone in focusing on the next ten days and treating them as a military operation, can 1? Also I don't own a diary ( yet). I'm rather hoping Santa is going to bring me one. An blank one, devoid of any commitments  whatsoever. The joy of a new diary to me is its emptiness. The promise of expectation and hope over experience. Please "save the date" until after Christmas, then any invitation will be gratefully received. Any that are issued right now I'm treating as a threat to my sanity.  

THE VULGARITY OF CHRISTMAS

Is there anything worse than good taste at Christmas? Those manicured, perfectly groomed, colour-co-ordinated trees that never seem to do anything as common as shed their needles are the anthesis of all that is   great about this time of year. They are the anti-Christ of decorations. Christmas trees by definition should be slightly gaudy. They should twinkle and be a little lop-sided and laden down unevenly with ornaments collected over time, never bought in a smash-and-grab frenzy. Ideally they should never have a theme either. I hate "themed" trees. Never trust anyone who says " this year I'm decorating my tree only in red". Not only do these people need to get a life, they need to find their inner child, their soul and they need to let go of all pretencions. Tis the season to be jolly. Don't underplay the decorations; unleash the over-the-top-genie.

THE MOUSE THAT ROARED

The newspapers and Mary Portas are on a mission to save the High Streets and preserve "reality" shopping; predicting that we shall shortly become a nation not of shopkeepers but of "clickers". Due to the economy, the recession and, indeed - lack of interest, the experience of shopping will fade into oblivion. Waiting in line to pay will be replaced by waiting at home to receive goods ordered on-line.

As a shopkeeper myself ( I have owned a children's shop in Ebury Street for a decade) these are my thoughts: If governments want to keep shops going they have to address rent issues. No landlord that I know of ever puts rent down, or links it ( like some do in America) to profits. Rates are extortionate. Getting rid of commercial waste at the end of a working day costs a fortune. The rise in VAT has made a massive difference. Most Independent shop owners like myself are passionate about what they do. They put their heart and soul into their business, often foregoing their own wages in these troubled times just so they can keep going. It is totally dispiriting. Independent shops do not benefit from the advantages of chain stores, for their stock cannot be shifted from one end of the country to another. You have to rely on your taste and that of your customers when ordering. You have to be confident you are selling what it is people want to buy. Get it wrong; and you are buggered. The only thing small shops have to offer is service. For  Diana (my shop partner) and myself everyday is a new challenge. We try to make Semmalina-Starbags as inviting and as seductive as we possibly can, and will go out of our way to assist customers. We give old-fashioned, personal service.
Most High Street shops don't have this advantage. Staff are transient and the incentive to serve and serve well is minimal. Big chain shops are bound up in ridiculous rules - you "can't" buy the coat you want in the window even though it's the last in your size, as "company policy" does not allow goods to be removed from the window. Why? Why not? I've never understood ridiculous rules like this. In America a member of staff would willingly risk life and limb to undress a mannequin if it meant selling the garment. British shop staff seem to fall into three distinct categories: They either Serve and do it extremely well - Waitrose/Peter Jones/M&S/lots of small boutiques and bookshops spring to mind,  Stalk - and here I'm going to name-and-shame - The Gap, French Connection, ALL beauty departments, or else they Slack and just pointlessly mooch about and shrug when you ask for help, seemingly taking pleasure if something is out of stock ( Sainsbury).
We have to tackle this retail problem at ground level. Lobby councils and landlords, train staff properly and above all, take pride in what we do.
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