Saturday, 3 April 2010

Much more about cushions than I wanted to know

Wee exchange of emails with a friend to show what can happen when you give too much encouragement to your feminine side - or someone else's:

Me: I know how you feel. Been getting texts from 6 different family members all day, each with different probs needing shared or solved. Pure coincidence that they're all women no doubt.

Friend: Its not a coincidence but it says more about you, that you know a lot of women. You make it so those women like texting you, perhaps they see you as an honorary woman?

Me: Just as long as I don't have to talk about cushions. I can't do cushions.

Friend: I can do cushions. I don't choose to do cushions, or ever encourage cushions, but if everyone else is doing cushions, I can do them. Its friendly and painless. I like large ones made by nomads best, or ones I have made for myself and giant bean bags. The big ones you can sit on on the floor by the fire (with a whisky) and sort of snuggle into. My mum gave me a standard sized cushion last year for the Oxfam bag, when I took the outer cover off there was a beautiful older cushion cover inside. It was a sixties geometric print and really lovely colours - those dyes you only see in original sixties fabric. I kept it in the lavendar loft and you can admire it when you next stay. You never know it might persuade you that cushions can be lovely and merit a little chat. The thing is 99.99% of the worlds cushions don't merit any chat as they are ugly and mass produced. The world would be nicer if cushions were more individual and if they were used instead of supposedly decorative. Comfort, good posture, insulating and individual. I think you could carry a cushion around with you to protect your arse from the cold, maybe I will make you one (I, of course, dont need a cushion).

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