Needs no further explanation 🙂
Needs no further explanation 🙂
Two years ago, when my friends emigrated to from the UK to the US, Princess Pugsy made her way across the choppy Atlantic on the Queen Mary, because no aircraft carrier would allow her to travel in the only manner befitting her status, namely unsedated and as
hand lap luggage.
She was well-received, not just on her new island home, but also when she cropped up in a couple of my blog posts before, so I thought I’d share these:
Key West is just crazy about dogs. See those übercool doggies I uploaded last month, in case you missed them.
Key West is a dog lover’s paradise. Pooches of all breeds and sizes are being paraded around, often in hilarious outfits. We were sitting outside a cafe at lunchtime yesterday when these two rolled up:
Several of you (no need to mention names, we all know who you are!) have been bugging me about Portuguese men since my trip to Lisbon.
I’ve not been giving the “homens” nearly as much attention as The Cakes, but one can’t be too selfish with a raucous audience to please. So, I’ve rifled through my photos and picked out those featuring male specimens. Though I can’t vouch for their representativeness…
Surely, this is what every girl dreams about:
…but maybe dreamy boys are more your thing…?
Now here’s one who’s made an effort! Ready for your date??
Now that’s more like it!
Brides-to-be… oh, how they agonise for months, years, even decades(!) over THE PERFECT DRESS! Then the big day finally arrives… and their ensemble may not be every inch the epitome of elegance in the way they had intended. At least not from every angle…
There’s some serious hat envy going on here:
What is it with garishly coloured hair, I wonder? I had a school friend once who dyed her long mane blue. She was 16, very beautiful, and it looked great. But why is it that middle-aged women are going for red? And I don’t mean the natural redhead look in an effort to hide the grey, oh no, it’s an all-out ****LOOK AT ME I’M HERE!!!**** tabasco sauce red.
Leopard Print – The Sordid Sequel
Do you remember this lady from my leopard print rant a couple of weeks ago?
Well, this week, I spotted her doppelgänger:
I ruminated over this last one for ages, only to draw a complete and utter blank. So, I thought, I’d leave it to my very witty and inventive readers to think of a catchy caption. The guy sitting behind the bench, in case you can’t quite make it out, is actually dressed as a monk. I’ve no idea what he’s planning to do there.
That’s it for this week, peeps. If you’re a new reader and you want to catch up on the rest of the Street Snaps series, just click here.
Saturday afternoon, when I was out on my weekly Street Snaps mission, was beautifully warm and sunny. People got into position…
Anyway, let’s get to the meat of it. Ahem. Over there past few months of stalking about the streets of Toledo, one “fashion” phenomenon was particularly hard to miss: The prevalence of ghastly patterned tops, primarily (but not exclusively) worn by middle aged and older women.
I’m neither an advocate of dull clothes nor of sombre solid colours, but surely, there is a line between cheerful and garish…? Evidently not.
Some of the pics are a bit blurry, but you’ll get the idea…
You’ve probably had enough of this by now. And I don’t blame you!
As usual, I’m finishing off with cute dogs. Of course, they are also decked out in tops for the occasion 😉
…and even pants!
[To view the Street Snaps series, click here.]
Another week, another round of frightfully frumpy tourists. I don’t even have words for this:
And now, let’s turn to a favourite topic of mine: The merits (or NOT!) of animal print. There’s no escaping it this season, it’s absolutely everywhere. I guess I am a tad biased here, because I grew up with the firmly engrained dogma that leopard print garments were the sole domain of desperate women ‘of a certain age’ who were hell-bent on fighting the unbearable phenomenon of middle-aged invisibility with a sledge hammer.
For the Brits among you, the best known personification of sa(i)d strategy is probably publican Bet Lynch. (Bet Lynch, see left, was a much-beloved character on the long-running British soap Coronation Street).
OK, I will concede that an animal print accessory or item of clothing can, on occasions, look quite stylish, and pretty young women would get away with wearing a crown of dead squirrels on their head. On a mature lady, a nice zebra-striped scarf or snake skin bag can complete an outfit. But there are limits. And we’ll be looking at some pics now where those limits have been transgressed.
To counteract the awfulness of all of the above, how about a teensy dog in human clothes:
To view the rest of the Street Snaps series, click here.
No, it’s neither of those queer looking girls, heaven forbid! The one on the right I fell out with when we were 11, and we haven’t spoken since (sounds pathetic, which it is, and were we still living in the same country, we’d have fixed this by now). Her cousin, the one in the middle, who looks a bit like a mole, was totally insufferable. She always had to be the leader in every game, regardless of whether one was required or not. Even my mother only ever referred to her as “The Boss”. I’m by no means a natural-born leader, but equally untalented as a follower, so the three of us were doomed from the start.
But I digress. My bestest friend of all time, as you’ll probably have guessed by now, was the dog. My dad acquired him from a US airbase nearby. The owner was returning to the States and could not take him. His original name was Snoopy (yes, very original…!), but as this is awkward for Germans to pronounce, it was approximated to Schnuppi. My mum, terrified of all dogs, turned the poor animal’s arrival into a huge drama, and Schnuppi had to be tied up to the railings outside the front door.
This state of affairs didn’t last long – three hours at the most – before my mum was won over by his heartbreakingly sad eyes and rabbitty back legs. Schnuppi was as stubborn as dachshunds come, and just as loyal. He was not a yapper, but when he did decide to voice his excitement, his bark was sonorous, low pitched and slightly husky.
A pampered family pet, he lived to the ripe old age of 15 and was buried in the very centre of his kingdom that was my grandparents’ garden, beneath a voluptuous spruce.
Do you have any fond memories of a beloved childhood pet?
[I have posted a bunch of embarrassing childhood pictures before, here they are, if you want to see them]
On Monday’s family outing to Landsberg, we spotted this two month old pug.
There was another funny animal-related incident in Landsberg, involving a family of ducks. You can just about make them out in the river, on the bottom right:
Mother duck was trying to teach her offspring to scale up the cascading water. The four almost grown ones managed to remain steadfast the current, but the smallest one couldn’t even keep his feet in contact with the slippery ground. He was paddling on all cylinders just to remain in the same spot, and he kept drifting back down the river again and again.
The mother eventually leapt up the first shelf, but none of the others followed, despite her best efforts to entice them. My mum, my brother and I kept cheering them on from the sidelines… to no avail. In the end, mother duck had to abort the exercise and return to less troubled waters.
After a loooong day’s travelling, involving a train, a bus and two flights, I woke up on a boat this morning. Or rather, a floating house. And if I crane my neck just a little bit more, I think I might be able to spot Cuba in the distance…
For the next two weeks, I’ll be posting from Key West, Florida. I’m staying with my dear friends Vicky and Ian, who moved to the sunny little isle from cold and drizzly London a year ago.