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The collected opinions of an august and aristocratic personage who, despite her body having succumbed to the ravages of time, yet retains the keen intellect, mordant wit and utter want of tact for which she was so universally lauded in her younger days. Being of a generation unequal to the mysterious demands of the computing device, Lady Bracknell relies on the good offices of her Editor for assistance with the technological aspects of her journal.

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Location: Bracknell Towers

Wednesday, February 08, 2006

I myself am the pedestal for this ugly hump at which you stare*

The editor has complained to Lady Bracknell that she can tolerate the unpleasant visual assault from the photograph in the previous post no longer. Out of concern for both the editor and this blog's potential readers, therefore, Lady Bracknell has determined to write about the phenomenon of the Bracknell Hump.

(She feels it would be wise at this juncture to pre-empt the disingenuous questions which Marmite Boy and Boogaloo Dude would undoubtedly be tempted to submit via the comments facility. No, the Bracknell Hump is not a description of her ladyship in wrathful mode. Nor - let us be clear from the outset - would it be A Good Idea to subvert the term to serve to describe that state. Punishments for infractions of this rule will be swift and devastating. They might, in the case of the Dude, extend as far as withdrawal of soup privileges.)

The Bracknell Hump is an inherited minor deformity at the top of the spine. Lady Bracknell's esteemed father is similarly afflicted. (Close followers of social mores will have realised immediately that, as the deformity is inherited from the paternal line, and Lady Bracknell is a widow, the term "Bracknell Hump" must be a misnomer. That is certainly very clever of them, but they are mistaken if they expect to be able to use that perspicacity to trick Lady Bracknell into revealing the true identity of her esteemed parents. For the purposes of this blog entry, the Hump will take her ladyship's married name.)

The Bracknell Hump is not particularly disfiguring. It does not cause pain. It is probably not even immediately apparent to the casual observer. Lady Bracknell has no great objection to having inherited distinguishing physical characteristics from either side of the family: it would not do if we all looked alike.

However, the Hump creates one specific irritation which is that the necklines of garments absolutely will not adhere to its delineaments. Thus, not only do hemlines refuse to hang in the nice straight line which their designers intended, but all who bear the Hump run the constant risk of being strangled by their own clothes. Garments initially displaying an enticing hint of d├ęcolletage demonstrate a most deplorable tendency to convert themselves into polo-necked sweaters as the day progresses. Bearers of the Bracknell Hump spend their entire lives rearranging their clothing in a battle to alleviate the sensation of choking.


*Although nothing in this entry is untrue, Lady Bracknell would be hard pressed indeed to refute any suggestions that she composed it for the sole purpose of justifying using a quotation from the inimitable Leonard Cohen in the title.

3 Comments:

Anonymous Dude said...

May I assure Her Ladyship that I have no intention of interpreting "Bracknell Hump" as having anything to do with a (very seldom witnessed) state of high dudgeon. Nor indeed will I seek to extract any sexual innuendo from this obviously innocently meant phrase - although the temptation is almost overwhelming.

I will however confirm, for the benefit of readers who have never met Lady Bracknell, that the small deformity of which she writes is almost indiscernible and, I feel, has been "bigged up" for comedic effect in this context. I was in Her Ladyship's employ for several years before I even noticed it, and even then only because it was brought to my attention by the Lady herself.

And I must say that, even when observed, it in no way detracts from Her Ladyship's appearance or her inner beauty.

Now may I have some soup please - it's really cold out here this morning!

8:26 am  
Anonymous Chris Mac said...

My lady. I will now endeavour to avoid like the plague your blog at work. Whilst reading your latest entry in busy office, and sipping gently on a luke warm mug of Twinings, I took to an uncontrollable guffaw of laughter and almost choked to death. I recovered to find myself surrounded by concerned members of staff running back and forth with plastic cups of water, and your latest blog entry on full display. Thankfully the boss was indisposed.

2:41 pm  
Blogger Lady Bracknell said...

Lady Bracknell recommends that her readers abstain from liquid refreshment whilst reading her racier blog entries.

She would not wish to be the unwitting author of anyone's tragic demise.

7:28 pm  

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