Wednesday, 28 December 2011

Gentle progress

Hmm. I am musing about resolutions. I like this process, so shut up about it being a disaster from the word go.

I am thinking 2012 should be my year of dressing adventurously. I have improved a little from 2010, which ended on a disappointing note of a black winding sheet two sizes too large, held on by a safety pin.

But I cannot decide whether to go for the bizarre-adventurous or the conservative-classy.

At the moment I am erring on the former; this morning I discover grey socks and pink plastic flip flops is a stylish combo, probably worn by all the top models.

For the true fashion brigade I know the idea needs development. The socks match, for a start.


After a self-indulgent hour considering my options, I take to Hong Kong Island with Shark. We trawl Sheung Wan to SoHo, looking for Morn Creations.

I cannot remember where the flagship store is, forgot to research the address before we left home, and anyway, didn't bring a map.

Maybe to lose myself was a secret intent. It is no hardship to wander these streets, and I recommend them to all visitors: backstreets are left-over places for single-room printers, machinists, boot stitchers, junk shops. Older buildings are filling with one-off artisans, designers, galleries. Bistro-style cafes, street foodsellers with noodles and market stalls congregate in alleys where the road traffic does not go.

We find the shop, perhaps a bit too soon, and Daughter Number One decides which backpack she'd like, Shark or Blue Whale.


After some deliberation, she chose Blue Whale.

The evening is similarly gentle: I lay my healing hands on a wooden jigsaw puzzle of the skeleton. I imagine this will be a simple way of passing the time. I enthusiastically set about it, hopefully discovering how many vertebrae we need to stand upright.

After two hours I proudly show my results to Tiger, Queen of Jigsaws. She observes the leaning Mrs Bones whose legs keep dropping off and whose ribs I cannot make stay put. (I also cannot figure out where some of her bones fit, so have hidden them discreetly under a table mat.)

After brief consideration, Tiger curls one lip, lifts up the sellotape I have used to stick on the clavicle, and contemptuously declares it a mess. She takes over and completes the job, so there is triumph of a child's learning plucked from the jaws of the mother disaster.

But I remain proud of my evening's work, and take a picture of my accomplishment.


On closer inspection, I seem to have managed a photograph where Mrs Bones actually looks in pain.

Still, not a bad day.

7 comments:

peapod said...

Are there thrift/charity shops in Hong Kong?

Big mamma frog said...

Ah yes. We have a dinosaur version of Mrs Bones. It's arms repeatedly fall off and it has been known to lose ribs, or occasionally its head.

Perhaps this is why the dinosaurs died out? Bad design all round methinks.

Grit said...

yes peapod! in fact i have been doing a bit of a street scour today! we have plenty of ten dollar bin clothing shops, and places like mee and gee which is a thrift/vintage store. ...my theory is, you can buy anything in hong kong. you just got to find it.

it is all part of my smart-arsed attempt at bringing the little grits round to some human biology, big mamma frog. they have been horrified by it all so far, preferring plant torture to kidney function. i reasoned that mrs bones couldn't possibly set them back, but the way she routinely drops to bits, i'm not so sure.

Nora said...

Please tell me you didn't go out in public in those socks and slippers. I half know that your joking, but I never know. Did you ever get those skeletons of dinosaurs you put together? My son had a whole collection of them. They were a pain in the neck to dust.

Rachel M. said...

also looks like she's sticking her tongue out at you!

sharon said...

I expect her bones drop off because of the lack of muscles, ligaments and skin!

Grit said...

hi nora, no i didn't walk out in them, although it was tempting for a moment. and that thing about dusting. dusting? once a season i wave the vacuum cleaner nozzle about, does that qualify?

that's it rachel, i am mocked by a wooden skeleton with a sellotaped clavicle. is there nowhere with dignity left to me?

i never thought of that, sharon. i shall point that out to the gritlets.