Cultural Pessimism

Domesticity

ejt11 — Thu, 22 Oct 2009 13:14:58 +0000

I have, for some time now, been obsessed with the paraphernalia of domesticity. I believe it all began when I started wearing aprons at university for no other reason than I found them a comforting reminder of a simpler time amidst all the turmoil and existential crisis’ of my student years. I then moved onto to collecting fabrics in the hope of fashioning something ‘homely’, using doilies, knitting scarves and forcing people to wear them. Sadly, this fixation with the accoutrement of 1950s womanhood never had any practical outworking; I continue to substitute bags of skips for proper meals and despite my best efforts, fail to make anything of use or aesthetic value. I believed my foray into the domestic world to be fairly innocent – it was a superificial interest soon to be superceded by some equally useless activity. I have, however, noticed in recent years that it has become increasingly fashionable for women to develop their domestic skills in a particularly feminine style.

It all seems fairly innocuous – pretty pillow, pink cupcakes and craft activities – but I wonder when a fun, friviolous ‘fashion’ changes into an expectation. I wander around Cath Kidston and, her significantly less talented counterpart, Emma Bridgewater surveying the cake stands and sewing boxes and wonder if there is quite a sinister message hidden in all the loveliness. The materials are so overtly feminine that I can’t imagine it encourages men to start crocheting blankets or the like. I mean, what is the message here? To be continued…

A New Conversation?

ejt11 — Thu, 22 Oct 2009 09:54:14 +0000

Further to my comments on ‘over-communicating’ I have decided to stop. My first challenge has been to radically alter my conversational habits. Instead of launching into a monologue about my life’s woes before I’ve even sat down, I am trying to remain as quiet as possible for at least the first five minutes of any given conversation. This can be quite unnerving for those involved but I have thus far observed two positive outcomes:
1) I manage not to alienate the other person immediately by saying something weird, disturbing or just dull.
2) Normally they are so unsettled by my muteness they say something weird, disturbing or dull.
Happily, this results in a satisfactory meeting for all involved. Or at least me which is the important thing.

Over-communicating

ejt11 — Thu, 22 Oct 2009 09:42:38 +0000

I read an interview with Janet Street Porter who is a passionate opponent of our current need to ‘over-communicate’ ( questionable whether this is a word). Indeed, apparently, this admittedly pointless blog is a brilliant example of my need to comment on every mundane little detail of my pathetic life. Porter’s rather convincing argument is that a certain amount of mystery, privacy and reserve is fundamental to finding the ‘other’ interesting. Aside from the fact that as a broadcaster, writer and occassional TV personality JSP is really not the best advocate of the ‘less-is-more’ attitude to communication, maybe it would be a relief not to have to comment on/read comments on everything that happens.

I suppose continuous online commentary can be a way of concretising one’s sense of self in quite a pathetic fashion but I think, more importantly, it can be a way of clarifying random thoughts/feelings/experiences. It is important and cathartic to at least try and make sense of our weird little internal worlds.

I think my need to communicate is based on a fundamental mistrust of other people. Let me elucidate: What if other people assume I’m a fool or a bore unless I tell them everything I’m thinking? It is difficult to pull of the quiet and mysterious thing – it only really works if a person is ridiculously good-looking and charismatic. I need people to know that I’m informed and have trendy, liberal views on everything…

Go Green

ejt11 — Tue, 20 Oct 2009 10:15:04 +0000

I am attempting to embark upon a ‘greener’ life. Unfortunately,thus far, I have accomplished very little. I have amassed a collection of about three thousand plastic bags which now take up most of the cupboard space in my flat. I hardly ever remember to bring these bags to the supermarket and when I do I normally drop them on the street and inadvertently suffocate small children. I do, however, think I am making progress. The plastic bag collection is now so huge that my kitchen only allows room for two tins of soup and a small loaf . By cutting down on space I am simultaneously minimising the waste I create. I have written a complex formula to communicate this theory:

less space = less food= less waste

Maybe if I lived in a little egg-like pod I’d never create any mess again. Good Start.