Riches beyond the dreams of avarice...
Lady Bracknell would be lying if she claimed that, should she suddenly find herself in possession of considerable wealth, she would change nothing about her current domestic circumstances.
She has reached the decision just this afternoon that the ultimate in sybaritism and luxury would be to be able to afford to put on a brand new pair of pyjamas every day, fresh from the packet, and complete with those creases down the sleeves which can never be replicated when dashing away with a smoothing iron at a later date. Nothing can compare with the tactile pleasure of fresh, new cotton jersey against the skin.
Of course, it would be ethically unacceptable to throw away a pair of pyjamas which had been worn for only one night (or, in the case of Lady Bracknell, for only one twenty-four-hour period). But she plans to have the pyjamas laundered and donated to the deserving poor of the parish.
Mr Larkin is of the opinion that the poor may have little interest in nearly-new pyjamas, worn only once by an elderly and philanthropic aristocrat.
How times change. And not always for the better. In Lady Bracknell's salad days, the poor were grateful for what they were given. They could not afford to concern themselves with matters pertaining to fashion preferences.
What is the world coming to when one's fondest imaginings of a luxurious lifestyle are thwarted by the increased uppitiness of the lower orders?
She has reached the decision just this afternoon that the ultimate in sybaritism and luxury would be to be able to afford to put on a brand new pair of pyjamas every day, fresh from the packet, and complete with those creases down the sleeves which can never be replicated when dashing away with a smoothing iron at a later date. Nothing can compare with the tactile pleasure of fresh, new cotton jersey against the skin.
Of course, it would be ethically unacceptable to throw away a pair of pyjamas which had been worn for only one night (or, in the case of Lady Bracknell, for only one twenty-four-hour period). But she plans to have the pyjamas laundered and donated to the deserving poor of the parish.
Mr Larkin is of the opinion that the poor may have little interest in nearly-new pyjamas, worn only once by an elderly and philanthropic aristocrat.
How times change. And not always for the better. In Lady Bracknell's salad days, the poor were grateful for what they were given. They could not afford to concern themselves with matters pertaining to fashion preferences.
What is the world coming to when one's fondest imaginings of a luxurious lifestyle are thwarted by the increased uppitiness of the lower orders?
posted by
Lady Bracknell | Wednesday, April 11, 2007
7 Comments:
I would love to share Lady Bracknell's dream but sadly cannot wear new cotton clothes that have not been previously washed. At best I find them itchy; at worse you could be excused for thinking I must have been rolling in nettles. I have no idea why this should be.
To wear only-once-worn pyjamas such as Her Ladyship describes would therefore be the next best thing, but I would of course prefer the cast-offs of a male aristocrat.
Your ladyship demonstrates her surprising kinship with the late WC Fields.
The great man once recorded that, due to his seriously undeprivileged youth (he slept in barns with an old door for a bed and an old curtain for a mattress - and that was a step up the comfort scale for him - he had bent most of his energies to earning enough money to afford a set of completely freshly laundered bedclothes for every night of the week.
"To climb into those sweet-smelling sheets and sink into the soft pillows - that's luxury!" he said.
I agree with Ben, I prefer things to have been washed before I wear them. Otherwise, even if you are fortunate enough to not be affected by The Itchiness, there's still the risk of the colour coming off onto one's skin, bedlinen, pale soft furnishings, etc. Possibly also the cat, although I have no extensive cat experience to draw on here.
My dream of luxury would be to (a) have a regular laundry service that would, once or twice a week, come to my door and take away the "used" laundry and hand me a few packets of properly washed and pressed garments and linen... and (b) have enough clothes so that no matter what the occasion, from a day in bed to a summer barbecue to a wintry evening out, I would never feel the need to cry "I have nothing to wear!" although I am aware this may be a physical impossibility.
Sorry for being such a wet blanket, spoiling your idea of true luxury, but pyamas fresh from the packet are full of chemistry used to bleach the cotton, get colour into it and maybe even full of pesticides.
I can understand her Ladyship's bemoaning of the good old times, when the poor used to be grateful for what they were given and I do not know how many poor peole are living around Bracknell Towers, but maybe 364 pyjamas a year (3640 in ten years time) would simply be a bit too much of an otherwise good thing.
Ma'am
Personally I find that a simple smile and a couple of dabs of YSL comprise adequate sleepwear for most occasions. However, in deference to the neighbours' sensibilities, I do tend towards a little more modesty and cover up when pottering around the hovel. A leopard-print thong normally does the trick.
Now there's a mental picture you really didn't need ;<)
Dude
Lady Bracknell's admiration for the courage and fortitude of Mrs Dude knows no bounds.
Surely, Mr Dude, you mean YCL (Young Chauffeur Lotion)!
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