Tag Archives: housework

Tie dye, bleach and general clothing customisation

Oooooh, what’s this? A new line of business?

I suppose you could be forgiven for thinking that I’d gone into the hippy clothing business since Torbay is so close to Totnes, that Mecca for hippies, artists and musicians but no.

What I’m talking about is an entirely different way of customising clothes. I’m talking about the ‘cleaning a bathroom and accidentally getting bleach everywhere’ approach to dying clothes. It’s reaching ridiculous proportions.

Yesterday I had to go out and buy myself half a dozen new tee shirts and work trousers as I’m starting to look a bit bleached out, and not in a good way. This week alone two tee shirts and a pair of pants have bitten the dust. By pants I mean trousers, not knickers, even I haven’t managed to bleach my knickers yet. Although I did manage to bleach my eyeball this morning. All I can say about that is, BLOODY OW!!! Anyway, I digress.

To be fair I quite enjoyed my little foray into town for some new clothes. It offset the trauma of going to the dentist and having my gums jet washed. Again – BLOODY OW!

Now that most of the tourists have gone home it’s quite nice in town. The beggars have buggered off since they know they aren’t getting anything from the locals who all know that these ‘homeless’ folk climb into a nice car and drive to their homes after a hard days begging. I kid you not. Not only that but the jay walkers who don’t seem to realise they are supposed to stay on the pavements and the foreign drivers who drive round with a look of pure terror on their faces, usually on the right side of the road but not always, have also gone. During the height of the season it’s like a three ring circus on the main road in town I flatly refuse to drive in that part of town during July and August. Anyway, I digress again.

After two and a half years of running a lodging emporium you’d think I’d be quite adept at cleaning the bathrooms without spraying bleach everywhere but no, no matter how careful I am I still manage to get it everywhere. In an attempt to try and look at least a little professional in case any stray guests happen to still be around I popped on a nice new pair of trousers and a new tee shirt before starting to service the rooms this morning and within half an hour I’d sprayed them both with bleach- along with my aforementioned eyeball.

With the benefit of hind sight, my brilliant idea of putting the bleach into a spray bottle was not such a brilliant idea after all. It wasn’t so much a spray as a powerful jet that ricocheted off the tiles and all over me. Sigh.

Maybe I should just embrace the concept of bleach speckled clothing and call it a fashion statement.


Freudian slip?

Was  is a simple slip of the hand on the keyboard  or a far deeper, packed with meaning subconscious comment that revealed my true feelings when I was doing a Google search on things to do  locally this weekend –  bashing away at the keyboard with my usual two fingered style of typing, pen tablet stylus clamped between the fingers of my right hand as normal,   I noticed that I’d typed ‘Lancashite’ instead of ‘Lancashire.’  Freudian slip?

Poor B has had to endure one of the worst half hours of his life. I’ve just made him confront his wardrobe.  Not ‘specially known for his sartorial elegance, I’ve become  sick of seeing him in the same three pairs of keks (not all at the same time) and shirts.  I practically frogmarched him upstairs to try on all the stuff he doesn’t wear. If it didn’t fit or he didn’t like it, or more to the point – if I didn’t like it. It was thrown on the mountain of clothes destined for either the charity shop or the bin.

Now all his clothes have room to breathe in his wardrobe, and actually in mine as I carried out the same exercise in mine  this morning, and hopefully a new, sexy and elegant B will be seen strutting his stuff in the metropolis of Cranberry Bottoms.

Back in the day when I was an image consultant *pauses to reminisce about how elegant and well groomed I always looked in those days* one of the things we used to say to clients was that we tend to wear 20% of our wardrobe 80% of the time. It’s absolutely true,  so every now and then you need to get in there and have a really good old sort out. Get rid of anything that doesn’t fit, anything you haven’t worn for over twelve months, anything looking past it’s best (No, that doesn’t include the husband!!), identify where the gaps are and plug them with lovely new capsule items that work with everything else in the wardrobe.

That valuable piece of  fashion advice was given to you free as a public service by ‘Tripping over Pebbles in the Dark.’ Please feel free to show your appreciation in the usual way. *Holds out hand expectantly*

I am, as they say round these parts, ‘one one’ today. All the beds have been stripped, the washing machine is working overtime, the ironing is being done as the washing dries and I’m quite the little whirlwind. Bloody amazing since I woke up this morning with a thick head and a sniffly cold.  Anything that stands still long enough will be washed, tidied or thrown out so watch yourself or it might be you!