Gender Presentation & Disability

The conversation started at Flip Flopping Joy where BFP asked What is Butch?. Cripchick took this up in On Gender and Disability and Wheelchair Dancer gave her perspective in Butch/ Femme - Crip. There are great discussions in the comment sections of each of the three posts.

My contribution is going to be a little feeble and rambling and has taken all week to get round to, as I am a bit of a slug next to these blogging butterflies. Still, Cripchick and Wheelchair Dancer's posts certainly helped to buck me up when I faced clothes shopping on Tuesday.

Clothes shopping, especially in person, is a deeply humiliating experience for me and I only go about once a year, only when I really need to. I often get much the same feeling as I did when, aged nine, I made a single defiant attempt to join the school football team. There were no rules against it, and I knew I was as good – which is to say, as bad – a football player as any of the boys. Suffice to say, the boys were rather hostile and, for the very first and last time, I was physically intimidated by my classmates. So when someone finally kicked the ball my way, it seemed directed with such malice that I ran away.

This game is not for the likes of me. Gender presentation isn't all about clothes or shopping, of course, but I am most conscious of my outsider status in clothes shops and at beauty counters. They display things close together and on high hooks and rails. All the mannequins are standing up. They have bright lights and loud music. And the assistants can be so condescending, as if I am a child playing at dressing up. They huff and puff if you ask them for help, they roll their eyes with impatience, they sneer at your choices and it feels the height of rudeness to leave without parting with money. I guess the awful ones might be awful to everyone, but I need help, I need a little patience from them. I really do leave shops because I get intimidated. Some of those women have really long nails!

At one huge branch of a well-known high street store (post-DDA), I was told that the entire ladies' department was on the top floor and there was no lift. The assistant did to offer to go fetch things - if I knew exactly what I was looking for. I said no thanks, as I'd need to try things on. She said I might as well use the men's fitting room. Nobody would mind.

I do hope the men would have minded to have me in their fitting room. I daresay in some future utopia we can all take our clothes off in one another's presence without embarrassment, but until such a point, I really wouldn't like to think I'm that safe. They might well have found my presence somewhat less unsettling than that of the pretty blonde shop assistant, but still.

There may be advantages to my apparent genderlessness, but it goes hand-in-hand with my infantilisation. It's not that I'm just cut out - which would be bad enough - I am categorised as something else. I'm with Patti Smith in that “Being any gender is a drag.” But you can't avoid it. If you try to reject the idea of your physical presentation as a form of communication, you're still communicating something all the time. If I resign myself from the game, I can never truly leave the pitch. And I'm not entirely sure I want to.

The first time queerness entered my dress-code was when I was seventeen, my Dad made some remark about a woman he had spoken to who was “probably a lesbian” because she had her ears pierced three times. We had an argument about it and later that day, I went out and got my ears pierced three times. Still waiting for that penny to drop.

In her response to BFP's post, Sutton writes

“... for me, the whole femme thing plays out the stereotype of females in our society as frivolous, superficial, silly, empty-headed, vain, spendthrift, allowing themselves to dress for (or in the case of expensive baubles, be dressed by) men, blah, blah.”

And I think this is where my game begins. Even if my mind was full of fluff and kittens, I haven't a hope of aspiring to any mainstream feminine “norm” - nor would I want to (well of course a part of me would like to be beautiful, but I'd also quite like the power of flight). Myself, I like skirts and jewellery and what my stylist friend calls romantic clothes, but I can't be doing with discomfort and material frivolity. I can't cope with it in terms of pain and energy levels, and I can't afford it. So I break the rules.

Cripchick says

“don’t know that i’m femme, butch, etc, i just know that i like to play with roles and gender. for me, the word to describe this gender play or personal recognition of identity i’ve been having lately is cripchick. cripchicks (or gimpgirls) are fierce, strong disabled women who interact with the world on their terms. ”

Not exactly fierce, but this is more like it. Most of my clothes are either second hand or hand-made. My favourite jewellery is hand-made (though mostly by other people). And like Cripchick, I adjust things all the time to work for me – and to last longer, so I don't have to go shopping again. I find pretty things to make myself more comfortable and to compensate for my oddities, both physical and aesthetic. I'm with William Morris on beauty and functionality.

The effect is not startling. I look a little eccentric but I don't turn heads with it. I'm certainly not as glamourous as Wheelchair Dancer or as funky as Cripchick. But I am playing with it.

Is this all a bit femme? Given that two of Wheelchair Dancer's prospective lovers said she was butch, possibly not. I'm sadly lacking in physical prowess and am a rather womanly shape, but I get called unfeminine because of the way my mind works, because of the way I see myself in the world (I've only ever run away from small boys with balls and shop assistants - otherwise I'm a force to be reckoned with!). I've never been called butch but was once called a bulldyke, which made me laugh out loud.

Is this crip? Maybe so. Maybe there is something special about our adaptive style. Just as maybe there is something special about our adaptive sexuality.

The Myth of Monetary Meritocracy

I am afraid I have unpopular thoughts about the Credit Crunch. Well, the crunchiness may have passed; the BBC News website renamed the crisis a Downturn and even had a snazzy logo to accompany related stories (although they appear to have abandoned this). Meanwhile, back in October, Radio 4 had a season of programmes about the Credit Crash. Generally a crunch comes just after a crash. For example, if you fell against a stack of cereal boxes in the supermarket, it would kind of go crash and then crunch in quick succession.

For the UK at least, it is more of a Credit Crumble. It is undoubtedly bad news but for the time being it has been blown out of all proportion, with all manner of chaos, panic and disaster headlines when nobody is in mortal danger. We are poorer than most people, and whilst we're certainly aware of the increasing cost of fuel and food, there is significant room for further economy. It did tickle me the other week when a shop-assistant made me aware of a multi-buy offer on kitchen roll, saying in the gravest of tones,

“That's a saving of nineteen pence and in these troubled times, nineteen pence can make a big difference!”

Which is rather melodramatic coming from someone who takes no more than three minutes to earn such a princely sum*.

But all this has got me thinking about our ridiculous attitude towards money – an attitude which caused this problem in the first place and is going to make it all the more painful. Yeah, it's that kind of monster of a post, but if you make it to the bottom, you can have a picture of a terrapin!

The trouble is that we believe that money should be fair. It can't be. Money is just numbers. In this economy, these numbers are regulated by almost entirely by supply and demand (capitalism). Supply and demand are not fair.

Something you are going to sell to someone else – whether it is a thing or some work you can do – is only ever worth what somebody else is prepared to pay for it. Whilst hard work, skills, talent, intelligence, charm and cunning may increase the price you are paid, your control over the matter is very limited. If you are a brilliant footballer who gets all the right breaks, then you can make millions of pounds and compare your working conditions to slavery.

But most people who are brilliant at football never get to play for money. If you are a brilliant car mechanic or a fantastic florist, then there is a fairly modest upper limit on how much money you can make. This blog is not worth any money, and yet is infinitely more valuable than the work of certain newspaper collumnists who get paid a small fortune. Much fewer people read here, but much more charming, more discerning and generally better-looking people, which is a far more valuable reward.

A person cannot work themselves rich. Some people are smart, skilled and/ or work very very hard and accumulate massive wealth, but only if what they have to supply happens to meet a demand – that is, they get lucky. Most rich people were born rich. Meanwhile, most talented, hard-working, brilliant people are on average incomes, at risk of hardship should they fall upon bad luck such as unemployment or ill health. And thus a proportion of the most talented, hard-working and brilliant people are relatively poor.

But capitalism is not a bad thing. Financial inequity is not the same as social inequality. In order to make sure of this, we have things like a minimum wage, universal healthcare, education and the welfare state. We have certain controls on financial activity and the amount of social and political power that money can buy. And fortunately, once you don't have to worry about a roof over your head, having enough to eat and a little to spare, money doesn't make a great deal of difference to one's happiness. Work (renumerative or otherwise) has its own rewards. And our value as human beings has absolutely nothing to do with the money in our pockets.

The trouble is that most people don't believe this. Not truly.

Our particular cultural work-ethic is highly individualistic, based on personal economic reward. A good job is first and foremost a well-paid job. People have some choice about the work they do and some make altruistic choices, but principly, the purpose of work in our culture to provide for oneself or one's immediate family, for one's own independence, security and happiness. These things, we are told can be bought – a principle we have reiterated several times a day. Everything is for sale; in any given ad-break we are sold sexual attractiveness, physical wellbeing, a happy family and the envy of our peers, all in the form of yoghurt or soap powder.

Stuff being the principle reward in life, it would make sense if people were rewarded according to their virtues. And we would very much like to believe this. Certainly most governments sell us economic meritocracy because it puts everyone in our place; those men have power and earn many times the average wage because they are the very best people for the job – you are relatively powerless and poo because you're not so bright and didn't work as hard as they did. And look at the chav thing; people love the idea of an underclass of people who are in the gutter because of their own personal failings – and love to hate them because even though they remain poor, they do appear to have a lot more stuff than they deserve.**

And this has ruined our economy. The first effect is (or at least was) hubris in the face of short-term prosperity. During the boom, those who were doing well thought they'd earnt it. Home-oweners spoke about the artificial rise in house-prices as if this was something they had achieved through hard work – and something for keeps, which of course it wasn't. Meanwhile, in the City, people were making money in all manner of strange and inventive ways and oh, how very well they were rewarded!

If you believe that your wealth is a product of natural justice, then it is difficult to conceive of it ever going away. I am not going to work any less hard in the future, so I shall always be this wealthy. In the context of reduced financial regulation and a sustained economic boom (so sustained that many young city types had never known any different), this got completely out of hand.

The second effect is that most ordinary people, most of the time, don't actually perceive that they are doing well at all. Most people you speak to will complain that they are either underpaid, or that they might have enough coming in but they pay too much tax.

This is not greed. Surrounded by messages which say that the accumulation of stuff is the reward for virtue and the thing that's going to make you happy, respectable, secure and so on, you're bound to feel short-changed. You're smart and you work very hard, so why shouldn't you have all the shiny things you want – shiny things that far less smart, less hard-working people seem to have?

In this culture people who have no problem paying for essentials nevertheless become very frustrated with financial limitations. One friend recently complained that there is no state help for people like her, because benefits and tax-credits are means-tested according to your income and don't take into account how much money you have going out. Yeah, I know. And yet I sympathise; she works very hard, and only wants decent things. A decent house in a decent area, a decent car, decent holidays, decent technology. Since this standard of living is a struggle, she feels like she's going without.

Add cheap credit into the equation, and an enormous personal debt problem results. I don't work or own property, and yet even I was receiving offers of thousands of pounds in loans. Treat yourself, the literature said, give yourself the break that you deserve.

Now, I don't believe that people need protecting from themselves, ought not to be loaned money or subjected to advertising. I think people who have borrowed beyond their means for non-emergency purposes are responsible for their choices. Not that they need berating; it'll be tough enough as it is just now and anyway, some degree of luck is always involved. Some first-time buyers got 125% mortages – which seems ludicrous - but others in their peer group got help from Mummy and Daddy and hardly took on any burden at all.

However, we are all free to reject this culture. For our own sake, for the sake of an economy which impacts on everyone, and for the sake of the environment. Money is not moral. The consequences of our attitude towards it are.

This enormous terrapin and its similarly proportioned friends live at the school where Alexander goes to nursery. Previously, I'd only seen terrapins the size of small apple (though not quite that shape); these were the size of a melon (though not quite that shape). And no, I don't have any pictures of kittens - the terrapin will have to do.


* In fairness, I was buying kitchen roll in Poundstretcher, conscious that I was paying 0.4p a sheet – closer to 0.3p with the special offer, as opposed to 0.5p a sheet in Wilkinsons and a shocking 0.7p a sheet in Tesco. In case you wondered (I'm pretty sure you didn't), if you take absorbency into account, Wilkinsons is the best value – it is about the same quality as Tesco, whereas the Poundstretcher stuff is very thin. I hope this confession mitigates for any degree of sanctimony above... and it takes two minutes and four seconds to earn 19p on the UK minimum wage – a few seconds longer after tax.

** Meanwhile, we participate in the exploitation of the poor in other countries and use more than our fair share of the planet's resources because we don't really believe that the world could be as extraordinarily unfair as it is – but that's another subject.

Our Ikea Adventure

Sixty-something years ago, a group of bright young minds, including the great Alan Turing went to Bletchley, to perform complex mathematical equations in order to crack Nazi military codes and eventually defeat the forces of tyranny. It was perhaps an ill-fitting tribute that this weekend, [...] and I went to the Ikea in Bletchley, to perform complex mathematical equations in order to buy a new kitchen, taking the 2.5% reduction in VAT into account.

We certainly overcame tremendous odds, such as lack of sleep, van-no-brum-brum and cold heavy rain which meant that, once we got going, we had to drive all the way there with the windows open so that the windscreen didn't steam up. And the Sat-Nav which didn't know that Milton Keynes existed (perhaps she just hates going to Ikea).

However, fate smiled on us in a number of ways. Highlights included:

• Since it was so far to travel (for us) and we had so much to do, we planned to stay overnight in Milton Keynes. On a Sunday night, if you book in advance, you can get a room – including complimentary teabag – for £30. It was by happy coincidence that the new VAT rates came in on Monday, so we were able to save our landlady about £30 on the kitchen. So our stopover paid for itself in a roundabout way (there are a lot of roundabouts in Milton Keynes).

• Staying in a hotel is still a terribly exciting thing for me which I get to do about once every three or four years. I think hotels are terribly exciting places where all sorts of weird and wonderful things go on in close proximity. I could barely sleep for thinking about all the illicit affairs, murders and mafia dealings taking place in the rooms around us.

• We bought new plates and bowls! Since I break everything I touch, we've been needing some more for ages - if anyone came round to eat, we had to take it in turns. And they are very nice, as plates and bowls go. Cobalt blue,Ｉguess you'd call them.
  

• For the first time ever, I was able to go round Ikea under my own steam (uh, it's a very old-fashioned coal-fired wheelchair). It was much better. I could look at all the things I wanted without having to give directions or answer the question, “What do you want to look at that for?” and I could fondle the soft-furnishings to my heart's delight.

• I could also participate in the warehouse bit – every other time I've been, I've had to be parked somewhere and sit like a lemon for half an hour. Then there's always been this difficulty of how to get both myself and a trolley of stuff out through the checkout. But as my powerchair goes pretty fast, I could go and collect things for [...] and he could be the lemon. I did have to stand up on tip-toes for some of them, but I waited until nobody was looking.

• I almost ran over a hedgehog! It was a cuddly hedgehog, but it still would have gone squish. Fortunately I stopped just in time and was able to return it safely to the little girl who had dropped it.

• I managed to resist the temptation of a great number of toys I might have bought for Alexander, thus maintaining my record; two and a half years of auntihood and I haven't bought him any toys (although I've made him lots). It took some effort though; they had plush woodlice!

It was such a busy couple of days that on Monday night I was wound up like a spring and couldn't sleep. So I watched an episode of Spooks (daft spy thing) on BBC iPlayer. I then dreamt about espionage being conducted in Ikea; secret codes written on those shopping-lists, spies hiding in the wardrobes, the boxes in the warehouse really having missiles in them.

Yesterday I could sleep and did a great deal. I attempted to wash up and woke up with my head in the sink, still clutching the sponge.

Coincidentally, Mary went to Ikea this weekend (although a different one - otherwise we might have met unexpectedly and ripped a hole in the space-time continuum) and Sara lost her Ikea virginity last month.

Party Dresses!

The thing about the dresses that come into the shops at this time of year is that, even if you hate everything that's fashionable in any given season, these dresses are always lovely. It's always the most gorgeous fabrics; velvet, satin, chiffon and tafeeta and despite the permanent prominence of black, those that come in colour are usually very nice deep colours. And they're always the nicest shapes, effectively gift-wrapping that most beautiful form in all of nature, the adult woman. Well, it is true.

I guess this is more about aesthetics (or possibly lechery) than some girly thing about dressing up; I have never been invited to anywhere where I might require a dress anything like these. If I were, I would find more fault with them. For one thing, I am an odd shape and don't usually fit into dresses. They are all incredibly skimpy given that it's winter, this is Britain and women tend to feel the cold more than. None of the dresses are fair trade or made from recycled materials and despite their expense they are the sort of thing which one wears very rarely, perhaps only once – and needs shoes and things to match, and don't get me started on the sheer hell that is shoe-shopping. If I were in the market, I'd probably make one myself. Out of an old sack.

In fact, I'm not sure quite who it is who wears the dresses that come into the shops about now. Most women never need a dress like this - I reckon that the sort of Christmas parties where women were posh frocks only happen in movies or perhaps for Office Parties if you worked in a really swanky office where they had mahogany desks and lead crystal mousemats or something. British high schools have started having “proms” in the last few years, but I think that happens in the summer.

My sister is the one person I know who owns these sorts of dresses, but then she goes to lots of weird weddings (you know, the sort that don't have a pirate theme) and does lots of concerts in orchestras where the chaps dress up like penguins – I don't think the audiences dress up so much. However, the one time I did go shopping for dresses with her was incredible; at one shop they gave me a cup of coffee while she tried something on. Free! Although at the end of that trip, we found the perfect item, full length, bright red and extremely flouncy, for £5 in a charity shop.

Anyway, since my futile and frankly slightly shameful window-shopping is usually conducted at home by myself, and since there is a very small chance that someone reading this might want to buy a dress this year, I thought I should share with you the top three dresses that I have seen this year.

3. This one I like because it is a great curvy shape (too many of these dresses require the wearer to be stick-thin). It is also almost black (it's described as graphite) and therefore fairly safe, also sparkly so one isn't a dark mass from the neck down. And the sparkly balance is just right; a lot of sequined dresses may be dazzling to behold, but make a person look like they put on their chainmail but forgot the suit of armour. It is from John Lewis and is called an Elise dress, like the car or whoever Beethoven wrote that tune für...

2. This is my second favourite mostly because it is a very nice colour and it is has a very pretty neckline (I'd be such a good fashion writer, all so very very nice). Also it is called a Boudicea Dress for reasons I can barely fathom, and I like the idea of a woman who was glamorous enough to wear such a dress turning up at her party in a chariot. It is from Monsoon.

1. This is my most favourite, because despite everything I said, I guess I imagine this might suit me if my fairy godmother showed up and it did, by some bizarre manufacturing error, fit. It is a lovely purply shade of red, it's got two textures in it and I don't know, it is sensible enough such that I probably could find some excuse to wear it between now and the End of Days. It is called a Matt & Shine dress and is from Marks & Spencers. It's also the cheapest out of these at £55. So I think practicality won the day despite myself.

Debenhams probably have the biggest range of dresses, including an entire section of red ones. Also, if you are a funny shape and did want a party dress, you can "design" one and get one made in the UK through somewhere like StyleShake which I've never used but looks like a great idea.

I don't think shops will mind me pinching pictures for the purposes of admiration, but I shall merely link to what is by far the ugliest party dress I have seen this winter. It is leather. It is gold. It is pretty much without shape. And it is £175. Any positives? Well, I guess could easily be wiped clean...

I went to the shops and I bought...

...a ukelele! Isn't it a thing of beauty? Most importantly, it sounds beautiful and within a matter of weeks, I daresay I should be able to do this sort of thing.

The guy in the music shop tried to sell us a mandolin case to put it in. I suggested that having a ukelele in a mandolin case was a little like keeping your machine gun in a violin case. The guy looked kind of nervous.

We bought it in Cambridge where we also had a look the new clock at Corpus Christi. It is almost five feet wide and has an evil-looking grasshopper on top, which is munching up the time.

A lady who was standing by the clock said, "I'm sure the grasshopper is supposed to do something on the hour, like light up or wave its arm in the air."

To which [...] responded, "It climbs down and bites your leg off. At least that's what happened to her." and he nods towards the wheelchair.

Later I wheeled into a tree, although I was pretty knackered by that point and it was a tree coming out of the floor in a shopping centre. And I lost our parking ticket. And my computer died. But today I am too busy rearranging Linkin Park songs for ukelele to care!

An O. K. Computer

I'm writing this on my new computer! You may remember talk of a new computer about one year ago. Well, I finally got one. It is not a MacBook. In fact I had the following exchange with my sister's friend who became interested in our conversation:

“Is it a Mac?”
“No,” I say, “It's made by a company called Asus and it runs on Linux.”
“What the hell is Linux?” he demands.
“Linux is a family of open-source operating systems, named after the programmer Linus Torvaldes who was Finish or Swedish, or possibly a Peanuts character.”
“Oh,” he says, disdainfully, “Well if it's not a Mac...”
“Basically, Linux is what all the cool kids are using now.”
A shriek. “What?!”
“I'm afraid so.”
“But everyone in Starbucks has MacBooks!”
“Exactly.”

It is true that all the grooviest people are using Linux, at least my homies Vic and Mr Bunny are and they are two of the hippest cats I know. If you imagine those Mac adverts with Robert Webb representing Apple, David Mitchell representing Microsoft (although in fairness he doesn't), well if Linux was to be represented, it would be by Jimi Hendrix walking on and doing something like this. But since David Mitchell really represented all PCs, I guess my new computer is David Mitchell - but come on, he's the one we all fancy if we're honest with ourselves.

Of courseＩwas far more concerned about the fact that it was the cheapest, lightest most shock-proof computer I could find with a word-processor and a wireless card. And the most exciting bit is the aforementioned word-processor which actually saves to disk and I can use the same machine to go on-line. Otherwise I just have the guilt that tends to accompany new toys, which I have to combat with the knowledge that it's really a new tool and one I've been struggling without for a long time.

It is very diddy, about the same size as The Complete Winnie-the-Pooh, so a bit bigger than a bible but smaller than a dictionary. As a result, the small keyboard takes some getting used to, but I would say I have average dexterity and I've just about got the hang of it (it's not like one of those raspberry devices where you have to cut your fingernails to a point to hit one key at a time). And it works. And it saves files to disk. Amazing!

Making the least of the January Sales

So it's 2008 and we still haven't solved this wee problem of climate change. Who would have thought it?

This is a good time of year to think about such things, mostly because many people are feeling hard up and it is much easier to be environmentally-friendly when you're living on Queer Street. Indeed, as far as your British consumer is concerned, by far the most significant behavioural change an individual can make is simply to buy less stuff. Every single little thing we purchase required a certain amount of energy to produce and transport to us. And we have a lot of stuff.

Of course, nobody has a great investment in promoting this message and amidst the constant barrage of messages equating stuff with happiness, it may sound a little depressing.

Here in the West, spending money is a national past-time. It is quite extraordinary compared to other cultures and our own culture just a few generations back. People always wanted stuff, people always aspired to have nice things for all sorts of practical, social and psychological reasons and they always will. But that doesn't mean Epirucus wasn't right.

Is there any relationship between the stuff we have and our quality of life? Financial security is one thing, but that's quite different - and sometimes incompatible - with having a load of stuff. This culture of constant buying is not sustainable. Even if it wasn't for the small matter of climate change, it is not economically sustainable. And indeed, it's not psychologically sustainable; frankly, I think it makes us miserable. None of us have enough money to buy all the stuff we think we want. The last person who actually used the phrase "hard-up" to describe their financial situation is actually one of the wealthiest people I know. But they are hard-up in the Mr Micawber sense; lots of people owe money and feel that they can't afford things which they need.

Epicurus, by the way, is my second-favourite Greek and people imagined that his household, intent as they were on a life of pleasure, was a place of orgies and hedonistic consumption (thus epicurean). In fact, having studied the matter in great depth, Epicurus hit upon what we really need:

"Of all the things that wisdom provides to help one live one's entire life in happiness, the greatest by far is the possession of friendship."

So there you go.

Anyway, Sage has given up buying stuff for New Year and many other bloggers - lead by Andrea at A peek inside the fish bowl - are participating in the Shopping Embargo 2008, giving up non-essential buying for the first two months of the year (a project I came across through Nna Mmoy Andrea, who has written a number of super posts about The Green Family).

I think this is ambitious and very much worthwhile, but as Sage pointed out in an excellent post, to be environmentally-conscious can sometimes be a little like belonging to a religious sect which can alienates those who feel they can't commit to the entire doctrine. Therefore, some suggestions about reducing the amount of stuff you buy, without making any solid promises or feeling that you're missing out:

1. Use the stuff you have. Often revisiting old stuff can be as rewarding as brand new stuff; books you haven't read and movies you've not seen in an age. If you enjoy the things you actually possess, you will have less desire for the things you haven't got yet.

2. Use is a much better measure than need when it comes to making purchases. The issue of need is very difficult to wrestle with, and one can end up feeling very guilty about the slightest luxury - at least I can. A far greater sin than having things you don't need is having things that you don't use. Nobody needs two dozen pairs of shoes, but if you have them and each pair gets an outing at least once every few months then that is far better than a person who has just two pairs of shoes and only ever wears one. One is wasteful, the other is not.

3. Share your stuff. I must say it is second-nature for me to consider who I might pass a book onto once I've read it before I actually buy it. Borrow stuff and lend stuff, and where appropriate, give things away. Don't be afraid to offer people the stuff you don't want; so long as you make it clear that you will not be hurt by their refusal. Otherwise sell stuff on eBay and offer things up on Freecycle.

4. Identify truly useless purchase. The magazine or newspaper you barely flick through, the cosmetic magic potion whose promises never deliver and so on. Make sure that the only things you buy out of habit are bread and loo-rolls. Or at least that sort of thing.

5. Beware The Radish Principle. This is when, in the summer, you want to buy some radishes to go in your salad, and at the supermarket you can buy two packets of radishes for the price of one. Only you don't particularly like radishes, it's not like they can be used up in any recipes you know of and so you neither need nor want the extra packet of radishes. Only they're free! Free radishes!

This is the kind of heart-breaking moral quandary I face in my life. I hope you sympathise. Point is that however cheap something is, it is not good value for money unless you actually want it.

Do you get the impression that all I ever spend money on is books and groceries? Hmm, not quite.

Essential Winter Style Tip #2

Today's style tip is one for the wheelies:

Avoiding Wheelchair Blanket.

Wheelchair blanket is the tragic and psychologically debilitating condition in which a wheelchair-user finds themselves with a blanket - usually of a plaid pattern - placed over their knees. Whenever I see wheelchair users in this situation, I assume that someone else put the blanket there; certainly every time I have suffered wheelchair blanket, it was entirely non-consensual.

Not only is this a decidedly unglamourous look, it is also a little impractical; the blanket slips down, gets dirty at the bottom and can even get trapped in the wheels. One can get specially designed wheelchair blankets, which often appear like the sort of plastic body-bags you see in crime dramas except with a hole for the head to stick out. Nice.

There are good reasons why this condition occurs; (a) a wheelchair-user's legs become much colder than those of a vertical type on account of not walking and (b) immobility causes or exaggerates existing problems with circulation, making the wheelchair-user's legs colder still, and rendering the feet prone to freezing and falling off.

Of course, a wheelchair-user can hope for a cozy arse; the wheelchair-user's rump remains well-insulated, usually against a cushion or at least a layer of water-proof unbreathable fabric. These means that it is not merely a question of dressing up like an Artic explorer, since one likely to get rather overheated in the posterior and fiddly bits.

So basically, this is how to keep your legs as warm as possible without resorting to the accursed blanket. I'm not sure I've ever combined all of these at once, but they all make a difference:

• Hairy legs. If you get very cold legs, then chances are, nobody catches sight of your legs between September and May, but even so the Hobbit look is very in this season, as are an array of Tolkein-inspired style innovations. In jewellery, the ring is the new body-bar.

• Massage the feet and legs before going outside. Anything that will stimulate blood-flow will help. Especially if you use something warming, some slimey stuff with cloves, ginger, cinnamon etc. in it. Deep Heat muscle rub or Olbas Oil will do the trick, if you don't mind spelling like you've got a cold.
  

• Wear fishnet tights. Fishnet, mesh or crocheted tights or stockings are superb at keeping your legs warm whilst still be being nice and breathable. It is the string-vest principle. Those big burly men on building sites, in my experience, are all wearing fishnet tights under their jeans to keep warm in the winter months. Of course, fishnets will only keep you snug if you cover them up with other layers of clothing. Oddly enough, the place which I have found sells the nicest and best quality fishnets at not unreasonable prices is M&S. I know. The shame!

• Over the knee socks. I have been wearing these for many years, but it would appear that Victoria Beckham, following my example, has started doing the same. Thus over-the-knee socks are currently quite widely available in the shops. I would source them from eBay myself, because I am a cheapskate, but you can get a number of different colours from Tightsplease and I discovered the wonderful US shop Sock Dreams, which has a huge range of OTKs.

• Lace-up boots. All the boots should have laces on them in my opinion, but they are ideal for our purposes because they can be adjusted to fit over however many pairs of socks you need to wear under them. The very funkiest boots for wheelchair-users are New Rock Boots, as worn by Mik Scarlett and many a cybergoth wheelie.
  

One great advantage of not walking very far is that, unless you have interesting feet, you can buy cheap shoes which last forever. I've had my lovely boots for years, and every now and again I give myself a totally new look by replacing the laces with different coloured rattail, which is about 25p a metre. People hardly recognise me after such a transformation.

• Remember old-fashioned underwear. Long-johns, petticoats, pantaloons and so on; people used to keep perfectly warm without synthetic fleece or waterproof fabrics. Personally, I mostly wear long skirts, so it is a matter of wearing another skirt underneath. You can buy such items at great expense from historical costume shops, but underskirts especially aren't that tricky to put together yourself (make a bit tube, sew elastic round one end, basically).

Uh... that's all I can think of just now. I'm sure someone else will have some suggestions.

Essential Winter Style Tip #1

My Mum and I went shopping on Monday, which was quite an adventure. She complimented me on my incredible fashion sense, "You always wear things that go together," she said, "except sometimes when they don't."

So since my brain is in such a state at the moment and because I am in a funny kind of mood, I thought I would post the occasional brief style tip so that you too can benefit from my remarkable aesthetic taste and so that you too can look fabulous this winter!

First, this seasons most style essential tip. Metallic fabrics are all the rage this winter; all shades of lamé, spandex and other fabric I don't know the names of with glitter and sequins. And not just on shoes and handbags; sparkly is most definitely the new beige.

Topshop have a number of different pairs of foil leggings, including this magnificent pair for £18. Now, given that they have been placed on a ideally-proportioned mannequin and photographed in the best possible conditions, one does wonder how anyone who isn't a professional dancer or indeed, a magpie might possibly be attracted to such an item.

That's right; this season's most essential style tip is

Pink metallic leggings: Just Say "No!"

Especially if you have external genitalia.

My trip to Newmarket

Today is the 40 year anniversary of the Sexual Offences Act 1967, which decriminalised male homosexuality (at least, in strict privacy, between no more than two people, over the age of 21). I haven't seen anything about this anywhere, so I thought I would mention this here.

In other news, my Mum and I went on an adventure to Newmarket. This was great as it was the first time I'd been out of the house in almost a month and it just happened to be one of the best days of weather in weeks as well.

Newmarket is a curious town full of horses and the rather small people who ride them. We had lunch at the National Horseracing Museum (I admit we didn't really look at the museum as... well, frankly, because it was all about horseracing). The restaurant there was nice though; we sat in the garden next to a passionflower bush and it was very pleasant.

In the shops I bought a garlic press and some shoes. I was extraordinarily lucky; I don't much like shoe shopping as I struggle to find shoes I both like and can afford. We went into the Scope charity shop to dump some old clothes on them and there they were. No size label, but I slipped them on my feet and they were a perfect fit. And they had a purse to match. £3.50 for the shoes, £2 for the purse. Are they not rather lovely?

I'm now going to have a rest and tomorrow I will hopefully continue rabbitting on about marriage (you can't wait, I know).

Better Living Through Chemistry

Today is World Environment Day. Time to go shopping!

In fact, of course, reducing the amount of stuff we buy is probably the most important thing that a consumer can do to save the planet. Currently, we purchase unsustainable amounts of stuff; shopping is regarded as a leisure pursuit, even though every item we buy which we're not actually going to use (need, of course, is impossible to measure) has involved a manufacturing process, packaging and has been transported to us - sometimes from the other side of the world.

However, since life has to be worth living if it's going to be worth saving, a good place to start reducing one's impact on the environment is by looking at the really boring activities we can't avoid. Who takes pleasure in buying wash powder or stand around waiting for an inefficient kettle to boil? Exactly; no sacrifice involved. And in the long term, all of these things save money.

Most of these things I've mentioned before, but I thought I'd put them all in the same place.


1. Eco-Balls

You stick the Eco-Balls into the washing machine instead of using powder. The balls contain thingies which ionised the oxygen particles in the water and bash the clothes clean on a molecular level. It really works. It works as well as biological powder and these are supposed to last for 1000 washes - which would use a lot of washing powder.

This is also great from my point of view because there's no heavy box of powder to lift and nothing to spill. Also my gruesome skin itches a great deal less.

Downside: We have been programmed to associated a synthetic floral fragrance with cleanliness, whereas the Eco-Balls don't smell of anything. Despite being convinced of their effecacy, I couldn't persuade my Mum to buy some as she felt things didn't smell clean.

Price: Other than eBay, the cheapest price currently appears to be £27.50 at Cap Carbon where there is a money-back guarantee and you can get £10 is you also buy...


2. Dryer-Balls

When you can't dry things outside for whatever reason, the dryer-balls reduce the time things take to dry in the tumble dryer and soften your clothes while there at it. My experience suggests a drying time-reduction of about a third, although this must vary. So you save time and money on electricity.

Downside: They can be rather noisy.

Price: See above for the offer at Cap Carbon, otherwise £7.99 at ecoTime. I've seen them for three or four quids on eBay as well.


3. Bicarbonate of Soda / Sodium Bicarbonate / Baking Soda

Bicarbonate of Soda is a main ingredient in lots and lots of cleaning products but can be effective without the additional chemicals and packaging of shop-bought stuff It is really effective at shifting miscellaneous muck and quite fun to play Mad Scientists with, on account of the fizz it makes when coming into contact with anything acidic.

I use the stuff for everything from stopping strong foods smells contaminating the milk in the fridge through to washing my hair. However, a far more comprehensive list than I could ever manage can be found here: Sixty-One Uses for Baking Soda.

Downside: Bicarbonate of Soda can leave a powdery residue anywhere you failed to rinse properly.

Price: Because it's also a main ingredient in Bath Bombs, you can buy Bicarbonate of Soda in large quantities from shops that supplier folks who hand-make cosmetics. Just a Soap seems the cheapest for amounts you don't need an extra cupboard for storage (although note the prices exclude VAT).


4. The Eco-Kettle

The Eco-Kettle is so cool! It consisters of two cyclinders; you fill the inner one with water and the push the exact quantity of water you wish to boil into the outer cyclinder. It then boils extremely quickly. You don't have to worry about exposed elements or anything like that. It is great and is purported to save about 30% electricity - a significant saving for a tea junkie like myself.

Downside:
Measurement is in cups, as in tiny wee tea cups, so you have to work out how many cups of water fit into a grown-up mug. It is a bit heavier than an ordinary kettle. I also think it requires more strength in one's hands to work than your average kettle. Therefore, not one for people with signifcant weakness in their hands.

Price: These come up relatively cheap on eBay as unwanted presents, but the postage is usually steep. I got mine for £29.50 at the Ethical Superstore, where you get free teabags, you get a free gift anyway and you might find that you've accidentally bought a shedload of Fair Trade Chocolate at the same time (Actually, the Ethical Superstore is also great for your Teabags, which you can buy relatively cheaply in bulk.)

It is expensive for a kettle but you can go a lot dearer - here is a £60 kettle and it doesn't even look as cool. You can buy a kettle for a fiver, but those things only last about six months.


5. Vinegar

Vinegar is a super all-purpose cleaner. It cleans. Everything. It is antiseptic and antibacterial, it'll eat through grease, rust and all manner of crud. However, a far more comprehensive list than I could ever manage can be found here: Wise Bread's 242 uses for Vinegar. And Counting.

Downside: I don't like the smell of vinegar, even though it doesn't linger at all. Lemon juice is a good additive or even an alternative when this is important. Also, because of the acidity, you have to be careful about certain surfaces (I can't use it to clean the vast marble surfaces of our bungalow, for example).

Price: Uh, I don't know, we buy it with my groceries. We get the clear distilled stuff which probably tastes foul on your chips.


6. The Mooncup/ Keeper/ Menstrual Cup

I wrote an entire post about this last year, which covers the advantages and disadvantages of this method of sanitary protection.

Price: Just now, the cheapest would appear to be £17.99 at the Ethical Superstore, although I got mine cheaper than that. Look out for special offers. Also while we're on the distasteful subject of bodily functions...


7. Weenee Pouch Pants (sorry; that's what they're called)

This is my nephew Alexander's recommendation. It's a compromise between the convenience of disposable nappies and the ecological advantages of Terry Towels. What you have is a washable brief with a waterproof gusset, as it were. In this gusset fits a liner which is disposable and biodegradable. So Alexander's nappy doesn't need changing completely every time he goes to the toilet; the liner can just be thrown away. And when the nappy is changed, it can be washed and worn again.

Downside: Not as convenient as disposable nappies when on the move. When Alex stays away from home he prefers nappies you can just throw away. Or at least, his Mummy and Daddy do. Also, I imagine there is more of an issue with the growing size of a baby than with Terry Towels which you can adjust as you go along - I forgot to ask.

Price: These are bloody expensive; apparently at £11.99 a pair everywhere - although I can recommend Spirit of Nature having bought stuff from there myself. A good source for condoms which are suitable for vegans and biodegradeable.


You know, I'm sure there are other things, but that's all I can think of today.

Are you sitting comfortably?

Could use some advice, please. We've decided that we ought to start eating at the table. Our kitchen has enough room for a table and there's nowhere else for more than three people to sit, let alone eat comfortably, so we need to have a dining table when people come round - my parents are coming for breakfast on Mother's Day and we currently have a picnic bench in the kitchen for this purpose. We didn't have a dining table at the old place, as we didn't have room for one and anyway, people don't really do that sort of thing oop North.

The trouble is that we need comfortable chairs, chairs that I would be okay to sit on for moor than a few minutes. And dining chairs are not really designed for comfort. This chair, for example, is perfectly nice to look at, but actually makes me feel queasy just thinking about sitting on it long enough to eat a meal - I'd rather sit at the picnic bench with no support at all. My back hurts a lot today, but that's kind of the point.

Last time we did have a dining table, we sat in wicker chairs something like this one on the right. Indeed, they may have even been the same chairs, although we made cushions for them. They got a lot of use and after a period of literally being held together with string, they eventually fell apart.

With shallow cushions, this is a pretty comfortable chair which it is difficult to fall off, but alas, it takes too much room.

Space is an issue (okay, so I got somewhat distracted, didn't I?), but if I'm going to be able to sit in a chair for some time, then I need something so that I'm not spending half my energy trying to balance on the thing and not keel over to the side. Not necessarily, arms, but something.

The support I need to the back is more difficult to explain, as folks with different back issues are likely to have different criteria. My issue is muscles; I need to be able to sit upright whilst using as few muscles, to as little extent, as possible.

I keep finding very comfortable looking chairs which are simply impractical, and many practical chairs which look a little like torture equipment to me.

Anyone got any ideas? There is a budget of course, but right now I'm looking for an idea of what we need; having established that, we can then try and find the cheapest way of getting it.

"Can't we perceive beauty without comparison?"

asked Sage in the comments to Friday's post.

I think we do perceive beauty without comparison. We do not attempt to compare the beauty of a tropical seashore and the beauty of a mountain range. And we don’t attempt to compare the beauty of Marilyn Monroe and the beauty of Audrey Hepburn. Unfortunately, we are pretty rubbish at perceiving our own beauty without comparison to other women or cultural standards of beauty.

Excuse the gender bias chaps, but this remains primarily an issue for women at this time. Fortunately, you are vindicated; out of all the manifestations of sexism, the baggage we carry surrounding women's appearance has far more do with money than anything else. Not a sinister conspiracy to hold us down, but an unintentional consequence of good old capitalism: if one is in the business of selling things, one does what is necessary in order to sell them.

There are really three branches to this. One is in uniformity. Representing beauty in the same way over and over makes good commercial sense simply because it avoids unnecessary risk. So for example, if you are selling a movie with a heroine in it, it will be far safer if this heroine looks rather like the last heroine who sold the last successful movie. People watched that movie, that look worked. Doesn’t have to be the same lady, but it is significant financial risk to have a woman with a markedly different appearance – for example, a beautiful woman of colour instead of a beautiful white woman. Never in this day and age, of course...

Although few would argue that the only examples of beauty are as restrictive as Hollywood might present, commerical interest doesn't like to test this or indeed any of the flexibility in our aesthetic judgement. It is far easier, far safer to do the thing that worked before.

So you have uniformity, you have this comparison to a very rigid concept of a beautiful person which can be really quite demoralising to those of us who deviate from it, because of ethnicity, age, weight, impairment and so on, let alone the subtleties of skin, hair, muscle and bone-structure. Like I say, any fool ought to be able see beyond this stuff; otherwise very few of us ordinary folk would ever receive any positive comment on our appearance. But, I think something else comes into play when we are asked to look at our own beauty.

Let's say I make and sell Magic Wonder Potion. It is a moisturiser – add moisture to the skin and in the short term, it will appear slightly smoother for a short while (another trick is to immerse your face in ice cold water for half a minute). So anyway, I may legitimately claim it makes your skin look younger.

For younger-looking skin, try Magic Wonder Potion!

I sell a few bottles, but naturally I wish my business to develop to its maximum potential. There are a few things I can do to draw custom from my competition. I can change the directions so that my customers are applying twice a day as opposed to just the once, thus needing to restock more often – I can even develop a night-time formula and sell two bottles to every customer instead of one. But the most obvious, most effective way of increasing my sales is to increase my number of customers. I do this by adjusting my wording…

Suffering from unsightly wrinkles? For beautiful younger-looking skin, try Magic Wonder Potion!

Do you, dear reader, suffer from unsightly wrinkles? Put it another way, have you got any wrinkles? – I have already implied that all wrinkles are unsightly and result in an experience of suffering. Not sure? Okay, well let me show you a picture of a model who might possibly be your age, who is dressed nicely with immaculate make-up, a photograph taken in fantastic flattering light with every flaw subsequently airbrushed out.

Now, how does your mirror image, in the yellow light of your bathroom, compare to that? One or two unsightly wrinkles, aren’t there? Are you suffering? You don’t just need Magic Wonder Potion if you want to look beautiful – you need Magic Wonder Potion before you dare show your hideous face in public!

Advertising for anti-aging skin products has always struck me as particularly blatant bullshit because they have to make their customers feel a little bit ugly the way they are in order to sell a single tub. Unless of course, they’re selling it as a preventative measure to younger adults – and yes, they have done this – in which case they have to install fear of future ugliness.

However, the same mechanism takes place in very much of the marketing for beauty products, toiletries, cosmetic surgeries, diet regimes etc.. The worse you make someone feel about some aspect of their person, the more they are likely to buy your product. And whilst I wouldn't like to believe that it is ever thought about it in these terms, a woman with a rock-bottom self-image and a wad of cash in her purse is an ideal customer.

And this means that we look at and judge ourselves very differently to the way we look at other people. For example, to find actual disgust in Patti Smith's hairy armpit would be quite irrational (not saying you have to find it attractive - that's a matter of taste). I don’t believe there are many people out there who feel that way – it is such a tiny pocket of history during which anyone has even considered removing that hair. However, there are very many women who have been programmed to feel total disgust about their own body hair, as well as their natural fragrance, the texture of their skin etc., without ever looking with so much as distaste at other women.

The messages themself are usually far more subtle than my Magic Wonder Potion campaign, but any woman who watches television, read magazines and go shopping is receiving these derogatory messages all the time. I did a brief recce for some of the concepts cosmetic companies implore me to be concerned about. One has to remember that none of these are medicated products; they do not propose to treat actual skin conditions like dandruff, acne, eczema etc., so all this has to be in the perception of the consumer. We are being asked to identify our own

Heat-traumatised hair / fragile flyaway hair / limp, greasy locks / extremely coarse, extra thick, frizzy, chemically-damaged hair [at that point, I think I'd shave it off]
Unsightly facial hair / unsightly body hair / unsightly nails / unsightly veins / unsightly feet and toenails
Orange peel skin / worn out skin / congested, oily skin / spongy skin
Enlarged pores [pretty gruesome for anyone examining your face under magnifying glass]
Prudish [sic.] lips and unattractive, dry flakes
Tell-tale dark circles / wrinkle furrows / colour imperfections / pesky imperfections [which can be disposed of for just £13.50 for a 6ml tube!]

And I can't help it; I find myself considering each of those concepts and whether they might apply to me. Deodourant is advertised in a different way. They won't spell out that you must use the stuff or stink, but they want you to know that you have something to be very much afraid of. So they offer that added security / extra reassurance / all day protection / 48-hour protection / maximum protection.

On top of these two factors, we also have a third branch, this strange but very powerful idea that it should matter terribly to women, the reasons why we spend so much time, energy and money on our appearance, when it's impact on our health and happiness is relatively very small. But that's another issue for another day and you'll be pleased to know I have now run out of steam.

Shopping for wheels

We're going to need to arrange some mode of personal transport once we move. This would be my current favourite...

String and Sealing Wax and Other Fancy stuff.

Back home, I am rediscovering the utter tedium that is Christmas Shopping. Last year I made most of my presents so I didn't have to face this. And of course, it wasn't at all tedious earlier in the autumn when I was dealing with my good ideas presents; seeking out things which I was confident that my donees would like and appreciate. But now we're down to those people who possess very few passions or interests in life, but for whom a novelty tie would be an admission of defeat.

There is so much useless tat about. There are now two dozen on-line shops dedicated to gadgets and novelties which are amusing in concept but which you know would be lost at the back of a draw before New Year. Most of it is so dear. And yet, we really haven't sorted the ettiquette of getting charitible gifts; planting trees, buying goats, wheelchairs etc. on other people's behalfs. It is quite different if that is something someone has asked for, but if not, is it really on?

I have had at least some luck. The present I am most chuffed with is a custom-made stamp for making wax seals and a load of coloured wax for one donee who doesn't do e-mail. If you're going to live in the seventeenth century, you might as well as do it with style. And purple wax.

I must also recommend the National Gallery Shop. I think I mentioned the Create Your Own Calendar facility last year, which I think is great. They also have a collection of Hieronymous Bosch figurines - all the surreal characters from Hell. Some of their art-inspired items are less convincing. Take for example, the iconic Whistlejacket by Stubbs; not my cup of tea, but it is a pretty amazing painting.

And here is the specially commissioned soft toy which claims to represent it. Can you see the likeness? Can you any connection between that painting and this item apart from the fact that the painting features a brown four-limbed creature and this toy apparently has four limbs and is brown?

Perhaps almost as bad is the "Pop-Up Sunflowers", after Van Gogh...

The Tate has a shop too, but it's very much dearer on account of the fact that many of the artists in their collection are still living.

And then of course Amazon is great for most people - unless they don't read books or listen to music. Or if they do, but they can never muster enough passion about books or music to make it worth me finding something for them. Which is the case with some of my donees.


Important tip to men buying gifts for women; if you look in a shop on-line and it says Gifts for Her, don't get anything from there. Gifts for Her consist of anything which is shiny, smelly, slimey, pink or made out of chocolate - and often a combination of the above. Many women do like gifts with these attributes, but there are generally better sources, places where the packaging is worth significantly less than the item; try to buy shiny things from a shiny shop, smelly and slimey things from a smelly and slimey shop and chocolates from a chocolate shop. Pink things for the over-14s? Use your own discretion.

You were dressed in pink and blue just like a child

We received our first Christmas Card last week. Admittedly, it was from the National Trust, so it doesn’t really count but it’s quite pretty and I’ve put it on the shelf. And I must confess, I have started Christmas Shopping. As I have to draw it out like this or else it won't get done.

The first person I shopped for was Alex, my unworthy nephew. He is unworthy because, whilst on the phone to my sister, I asked if he had any messages for me.

"Do you have any messages for auntie Goldfish?" Rosie asked him and the child simultaneously and very loudly passed wind from both ends on cue.

So it's clothes for him this Christmas. Here he is wearing his zebra outfit that I chose for him (no, he is a zebra, not an escaped convict). So I guess you're all wondering what is hot and what is not in the world of miniture fashion? Well, never mind, but just in case...

Well, as with adult fashion, animal-prints are the new polka-dots this autumn. To get Alexander's look, buy the precise same sleepsuit which came in a zebra-themed three pack for £10 from Mothercare. Or for the baby with a conscience and £40 to spend on something he will grow out of within a few months, there are these outfits at Cheekaboo, which sells fair trade baby clothes.

For just £11.99 Toerag Clothing sell such essentials of youth as Che Guevara baby-grows and t-shirts up to four years old. Up market at 12.99 Nappyhead sell t-shirts for baby with various amusing slogans such as Sleep is for the weak and I only cry when ugly people hold me.

However, by far the best place to buy shop for the discerning baby-about-town is both fair trade and not painfully expensive; Su Su Ma Ma Worldwear. Take this picture on the right. With such an outfit, the little gentleman would still look as good whatever milk-fuelled mayhem he got up to in it. They even have a section for the Goth baby. My personal favorite is their batik Starchild range, and I am keen to get Alexander one of their pixie hats - the child can't grow up without any embarrassing photographs taken of him.

When discussing such things with my sister, Rosie challenged my assertion that a hundred years ago, boys would be dressed in pink and girls would be dressed in blue. This is actually true; I thought everyone knew this.

Blue was considered a feminine colour on account of the fact that the Virgin Mary was traditionally depicted wearing blue. Why was she wearing blue? Well the best way of making blue (or more accurately ultramarine) tempera back in the Middle Ages was to use Lapis Lazuli, the semi precious stone. Naturally, crushing this up to make paint was a very expensive business, so blue paint was used very sparingly. As such, when the nativity and other scenes with Mary in them were painted, they would save the blue for her cloak, since she was the most important character.

The qualities associated with Mary; modesty, compassion, maternal love etc., were those qualities little girls were expected to aspire to and blue was considered the colour representative of such qualities. Meanwhile, pink was considered a toned-down red and red, through it's association with blood, military uniforms and so on, was associated with energy and vitality and all things masculine.

For some reason, this all turned around in the twentieth century. I'm not really sure why. And this wasn't the case in all cultures either, of course. I understand in some Asian cultures, little boys have long been dressed in blue to protect them from evil spirits, although little girls (the evil spirits being welcome to them?) have not had any particular colour associated with them. Other cultures, I daresay, don't colour-code their babies at all.

There have been some studies which appear to suggest that men and women, boys and girls are someone naturally more receptive to different sorts of colours. Nobody can escape the way that pink is used in marketing to grown women. These two incredible shops are pretty extreme, but it's all around us.

But as I said to Rosie, take young Alex. He doesn't own anything pink. He has been surrounded by blue things and dressed in blue from the word go (this isn't anyone's choice; there aren't too many choices besides pink and blue). Thus even at this young age, where he still has no concept of sex or gender, Alex would probably exhibit a preference towards blue objects as opposed to pink or red ones. At just six weeks old, he will already associate the colour blue with something about himself.

And yes, I'm sure this is all entirely superficial and nothing to be concerned about. But given that we do this with colour, it is easy to see the way that step by step, drip by drip, gender is constructed.

Window Shopping

Tinker has obviously inherited the family’s sense of punctuality, anyway. The world remains in suspense, but I'm taking a break from the heavy stuff anyhoo to do some shopping.

First off, our friends who run the soap shop in Whitby are now on-line. Honeyz sell handmade soaps, bath-bombs, massage bars, 'soap cakes' (like this one on the left) and so on. It's all suitable for vegetarians, none tested on animals and so on. It all sounds absolutaely delicious with Patchouli and Lime bathbombs and Cinnamon and Orange soap.

Yes, this is an unashamed plug, but as well as orders, they would be very interested in feedback about how it is all looking.

I had been meaning to make a puppet to help me communicate with my niece or nephew when he or she finally emerges into the world. However, since the birth is imminent, I decided I must buy one instead.

I love glove puppets. And my very limited childcare experience suggests that children are captivated by them – just sew two buttons on an old sock and make it speak with a lisp (because, you know, snakes lisp). We’re sorting a webcam out so that I can speak to Tinker through Skype and I figure that, not having the kind of face which is naturally entertaining to small children, I may need a puppet sidekick to keep those conversations going.

The best puppet shop I found on-line, and the one I finally bought from was Puppets By Post. You can get almost any animal you could think of in puppet form. They even have seagull puppets and the bizarre biblical camel (which is wearing sunglasses, as all the camels did in the Bible). They have a troll puppet which comes with a hedgehog finger puppet, so one could recreate the sinister dialogue that might take place between these two. They also have a range of what they describe as signing puppets although I don't know whether that means what it sounds like.

After much deliberation I bought a rather plain but cute bear puppet. It cost £8.50, is supposed to cover your entire lower arm and has a working mouth, which I thought was important. It is sweet, isn't it? But not too silly. It doesn't have a name yet, if anyone has any ideas.

And whilst on the subject of shopping and stuff, when I was really bored and looking at jumpers at Dorothy Perkins, I noticed that some of the jumpers were described as boyfriend jumpers. What the heck is a boyfriend jumper?

Is it supposed to attract a boyfriend? Replace a boyfriend? Resemble a boyfriend? Although they are all quite long jumpers, they do vary rather in shape and colour. I quite like this shape jumper but they have such dull colours. Apparently this autumn's colours will be red, grey and black and white. Well there's a surprise...

Every girl knows about the punctual blues

This may be considered a LADIES ONLY post which I am consciously tucking out of the way. This is going to be a bit explicit and gory in places, so also unsuitable for those who have just eaten or are just about to.

I am not in the habit of blogging about menstruation and the like, but I am really rather enthused about this and if it can make a difference to other women and the environment, it is worth grossing out anyone who didn't heed my warning.

All environmentally-conscious women of child-bearing age should be made aware of the Mooncup. It can also be bought as the Keeper (here's a US site). However, it was the Mooncup I have tried so the Mooncup I am talking about.

The Mooncup is a sort of sanitary device for dealing with your period. It is soft silicone cup that you fold up and insert. It opens out and fully blocks off the canal – a bit like a diaphragm (I imagine, never used one), but not nearly so far up. Blood then collects in the cup. Every now and again you remove it, rinse it out and pop it back in. In between periods you sterilise the thing by boiling it for five minutes.

Advantages:

• The major advantage of the mooncup is that it is extremely effective. I tried it because of the environmental issue, but I have heavy periods which have always been difficult to deal with and this really works. It doesn't leak at all even overnight.

• It is of course, completely environmentally friendly. No waste whatsoever.

• Greatly reduced expense. £17.99 is a lot to pay for a bit of silicone, but that’s about six months of Tampax and it is supposed to last for several years. You don’t need to worry about keep tampons or towels in stock or carrying them around with you.

• It is healthy. The cup is non-absorbent so it doesn’t do you any harm when your period is light. It hasn't been bleached. It is also a much more hostile environment for things like thrush than a blood-soaked tampon or towel.

• It is comfortable and discrete. You could prance around naked if you so chose and nobody would know that you had the painters in. And whilst you’re not usually conscious of tampons or towels, there’s nothing involved with the mooncup with even the potential to irritate.

• The whole thing seems more hygienic to me. The only blood that gets on the outside is a dot or two that escapes in the process of removing the cup (which you do sat on the loo anyway). All the blood goes straight down the drain, but not accompanied by anything that’s going to block it up.

Disadvantages:

• The major disadvantage of the mooncup is the necessity for hands-on application. Apparently menstrual cups became available at the same time tampons did, only tampons were produced with cardboard applicators (yet more waste). When I told a close friend about the Mooncup, she thought the idea disgusting because of the amount of contact one would have to have with one’s own genital area. All sorts of things can be said about this, but the Mooncup is probably not the place to start to try and change such a point of view. If you were so revolted, you’d never get it inside you.

• In fairness, it is a little trickier than using tampons, especially to begin with. There’s a bit of a knack and it can take a few moments to remove and re-insert.
  

• It does require some co-ordination, the ability to reach down there, etc.. Long fingernails are not recommended.

• If you had to use it in a crowded public bathroom, you’d probably need to carry a bottle of water and rinse the thing out down the loo. So perhaps not altogether practical in all circumstances.

• Some people may find it more gruesome to see their partially coagulated blood as liquid in a cup than to see it absorbed into bleached white wadding. Personally, I found the opposite.

Strikes me that the only reason we're not all using these things is that this method of sanitary protection does not make great commercial sense; why encourage women to buy something as a one-off purchase when you can persuade them to buy stuff every month?

And if you think I'm a bit odd for enthusing so much about such a product, check out the Testimonials Page on the Mooncup website which includes the suggestion, "the actual moncup itself looks kind of scary and medical and we think they should come in different colours and maybe with sparkles." Hmm...