Tag Archives: Playmobil

I’m looking hot, in a Playmobil kind of way

I have had most of my hair cut off. I now look like this…

… apart from the fact that my bob has added ‘treacle and caramel slices’ (not Mr Kipling ones, unfortunately) which look suspiciously orange in artificial light. If you were feeling kind, you’d describe my new look as ‘austere’. Never mind, I am taking a sort of grim pleasure in looking like a Plantagenet monarch. My new ’do is the follicular equivalent of a bracing walk across a muddy field, or a newly cleaned-out cutlery drawer, or a particularly taxing A-level Sociology paper. Vanity and frivolity, begone!
By the way, in a telling example of gender stereotypical behaviour, my son didn’t even notice I’d had a haircut, while my daughter burst into tears at the sight of me.
Now it’s time for ‘Philistine’s Corner’, my latest rant about contemporary art. I was browsing se1.co.uk for old times’ sake (used to live there), when I came across a listing for a piece of performance art by Laura Wilson, whose exhibition, ‘Horse of a Different Colour’ features ‘Quite a Stranger Aren’t You’, ‘a duet of identical rotating heaters silently moving from one side to the other in unison, almost appearing to be dancing with each other’.

‘• 5 February, 7-8.30pm: Flaming Fuse at Siobhan Davies Studios. This performance piece involves the striking and extinguishing the contents of an entire box of matches in a darkened room. The sizzle of each match is amplified and the performer illuminated before discarding the match and starting again until all the matches have been used.’

Sadly, there are only 20 tickets available, but for all those who are disappointed, I’m hosting my own installation – ‘The Quantum Marmoset Says “Boo!”’ – tomorrow, here in my kitchen. I will be opening a can of tuna and droning, ‘Your tea’s ready, kids,’ in a monotone, over and over and over, in a statement on how cooking utensils illustrate the symbiotic relationship between motherhood and thwarted ambition. Or something.



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