It's Been One Of Those Days.....

Teaching Nicole Kidman How To Dance...

Who can forget when our national treasure ( statement only applies if you are an Orstraylian') Nicole Kidman  in that Chanel No. 5 Moulin Rouge-esque commercial from a few years back when she uttered that (pointless) line..." I'm a daaarncer! I love to dance" which she delivered in a  breathy, slightly unhinged way...
And the premise was that  she was  the most famous actress in the world having a nervous breakdown (!?) and then hid out on some poor guys roof!

Mind you, there were many pointless elements and lines to that commercial that bordered on ridiculous...there she was trying to play the ingénue ( with all that botox?) but just ended up looking deranged and  contorted...Nickers! What have you done!!

*Before I go on...here is a little reminder of this commercial, I've paraphrased the commercial in the form of video stills to save time ....( for a closer look; just click on the pic!)

Ok I digress...what was my point? ...Oh yes, that ad and what was noted was that she struck a pose as if about break into a dance. 

My friends and I oftem mused over this particular point and in my quieter moments I mused some more..." What style of dance would be appropriate at that particular juncture...come on love! you can't just 'strike a pose! It ain't vogue   y'know, you need to work the room!


But finally an answer to this conumdrum in the form of Boys Town Gang...( no connection to the charity...and when you see the clip you will see why....ahem!)...yes, Boys Town Gang to the rescue...watch and learn Nickers...watch and learn...
Take it away BTG....


CLICK ON THE LINK FOR A LESSON IN COOL MOVES >     Boys Town Gang


 ! Forgotton the 'real commercial and all it's 'memorable' lines? ( "Drive"; "It's Beautiful up here"; " I love to dance /darrnce...") then follow the link...Nicole Kidman Mambo No.5

Pause For ( Random and Pointless ) Thought... 2#

Greetings BOBH!

So the other night, as I was walking home, a question, of deep profoundness, struck me...
If television is the drug of the nation,  is Persian the rug of the nation?

I think this is going to give me a few sleepless nights until I work out the answer...




**Acknowledgment: The Disposable Heroes Of Hiphoprisy for writing such an awesome song in the first place!!

One For The Road...

BEHOLD!

The man with a beard... that looks like a dog!

Outstanding!!!


Ok, that's all for today...Adios Buddies of Bighair ©™

Pause For ( Random ) Thought... 1#

Blogs and Twitters must be the only time any of us...ever, want a complete stranger to 'follow' us......

Stop Press! Bighair gets the chop! Buddies of Bighair in state of confusion

Well the title and URL does anyway....so Buddies of Bighair ©™ please note that Stella Bighair's Blog-a-bananaram..plakarma....whatever the heck it was called, has now become...
Stella Bighair's Blah Blah Blah ©™ and can be found at http://stellabighair.blogspot.com

But this is not the only change a foot, as right here, on these very pages, the dawning of a new Bighair blog-era is about to rise..like freshly baked bread or Stella's hair on a humid day...look out for future blog updates..

Stella! The children are waiting!! Please tell them the story about the bald frog with the wig...

The follically challenged frog lived in a land where all other frogs were blessed with a full head of hair.

Freddy was so embarrassed by his condition that he purchased a wig which was so beautiful that it looked like spun gold upon his head. And all the frogs loved him with this hair and made him king of the hairy frogs even though he really didn't have any hair.

The End

STREET MEAT AND STRAY CATS: 3 DAYS IN MARRAKECH

Ok so this little about Marrakech and......travel guides!



Yes, that’s right, the travel guide; what most of us have our noses stuck in for at least 1 week before we go somewhere new… You have to love the travel guides – especially those city itinerary suggestion or ‘things to see and do’ they have at the beginning ….well I love them. I feel the same way about those city itinerary suggestions as I do recipe books , with those recipes I’ll never make. But in particular it's  those elaborate  descriptions! A tangle of adjectives with lots of flowery sentences ... oh boy…they do capture the imagination;

In fact one of my favourite relaxation activities is to read recipe books whilst eating my dinner…to my friends who have never seen me cook this is really true. I secretly love cooking but I mainly prepare all my best meals in my head…I love to imagine myself cooking it; serving it …looks so amazing seems so easy when written on the page…ok I digress, but it’s for similar reasons that I love those travel itinerary's.



I love they way they write them, they make a place sound so beautiful, even better than you imagined. Itinerary’s that are so easy to achieve, this wondrous itinerary…you feel a pang of fear at the thought of NOT seeing the Marrakech they are describing…especially as it’s just so easy (!?)… “I’ll be the biggest loser in the world if I don’t see this!!! What was the point of coming? Quick, quick everyone, let’s get going!”




“Start your day at the action-packed Djemaa el-Fna, and if you can tear yourself away from the castanet-clanging water-sellers and turbaned potion-sellers, head into Marrakesh’s maze of covered market streets. Marrakesh’s souqs are like a cold riad plunge pool on a scorching July day….."




See what I mean…that is an excerpt from a well known and reputable travel guide...and here is another..



“Lose yourself in the fairy-tale souq scenes: potion sellers trading concoctions straight out of Harry Potter, old tins being hammered into Aladdin-esque lamps, cupboard-sized shops packed with spangled slippers worthy of Cinderella… Dive in headfirst at any street headed north off the Djemaa el-Fna, and you’ll emerge exhilarated and triumphant some hours later, carpet in tow… While you’re in the heart of the Medina, you may come upon a palace museum, stay in a riad guest-house, and venture a dish of piping-hot snails. But its worth leaving the charms of the old city occasionally for dinner, drinks, art galleries and fixed-price boutique shopping in the ville nouvelle (the new town)”




Don’t get me wrong this is true and an apt description in many ways but is it me or does that all sound just a tad easy to execute such an experience?

Especially the ‘things to do with 2 days in wherever the place’ it’s all just all bit too … ‘Oh just skip over to the market on blah-blah street, then visit the ancient ruins of la-la-la, followed by a quick bite of  snail tangine at the something-something café, then take a donkey over to the so and so gardens, then sip cocktails with the Marrakech cool crowd at sunset on the roof top of the hippest bar in town…’ and I just know that the ‘cool crowd’ are simply dying to have drink with me and I’d feel right at home there with my rolled up trousers splattered with today’s  lunch, dusty walking shoes, backpack and dog eared travel guide. Yes just like that, you’ve lived it, experienced it…easy peasy!

But that’s not all, it’s those full and descriptive prose used to describe a particular place; when they say ‘get lost’ in the souqs’ you might think they are just waxing lyrical …’oh yes lose oneself in the colour, the smells, the noise…"

No…wrong! They actually mean it’s lose yourself...literally…lose your bearings, lose your way…lose your patience…lose your mind?

It is certainly an experience to be stood at the noisy mouth of a 3 way road full of cars, bikes, people and cats, in the middle of the souqs after sunset with only the flickering candles in the few shops that were still open to ‘light’ the way... But we are intrepid…we can find our way home with our map (which is essentially just a maze of lines that have no names)… ..WE ARE RESOURCEFUL!  WE ARE TRAVELLERS ..DARN IT…"Oooh look a street sign.. (I think)…what does it say…hmmm can’t read it as there are no street lamps! ….…bah! Street lamps! Who needs them....now who amongst the group has a spotlight in their pocket or has eaten a lot of carrots and can now see in the dark ...please raise your hand...."





So as you have gathered, when wandering this city, mainly the souqs, you’ll find yourself walking ..alot. You'll walk this way... then that way...back to this way.. You will also have many men calling out to you ( no, not like that!) ‘closed! closed’... they are trying to tell you is that the direction you are walking is a dead end - even though it isn't at all- so turn around and go their way ...and then you give them some money because they stopped you from getting lost!…hmmmm, well it’s a living I suppose.
But by day two we were getting wise to it, so on this particular day we were on our way to the main square ( Djemaa el-Fna ) and we took the directions we had been given earlier, believing to have been following them we turned and walked down a road. As we walked by a hotel a man who was standing in the doorway called out to us “closed closed”…We looked at each other smugly, we weren't  falling for that old chestnut! “Thanks we are ok” we called back and off we padded off along the dusty path for a minute or two with purpose...with confidence..only to find …a dead end!!


But that is part of the fun...that’s why ( I can only assume) I keep buying those travel books, so I can try to not be a ‘tourist’ (which I clearly am) ..yes, that is why I love it!!...and as for Marrakech? Well I can’t wait to go back and get lost all over again!



Oh by the way, if you are wondering what the significance of the title is then you should get yourself over to Marrakech to find out…..Don’t forget your travel guide....

Reddy and Sweaty-The Early Years. Vol. 1

Once upon a time,

In a far away Kingdom known as 'Brisvegas' , there lived a boy and girl.

The girl lived in this land for 16 years unaware of the boys’ existence until one day; the hand of fate brought them together.

It was yet another scorching hot summers day which in turn forced them both to take refuge in a cool room reserved for people of who possessed similar constitutions,  preferring to stay out of the sun, and  ‘appreciating'  films instead...
 And there they both sat…her reddy…he sweaty….both chatty….

And this life long obsession with talking to and at each other, carried on well into their adult lives when one summers day, 11 years after they first met, they once again found themselves sheltered from the sun in an air conditioned room, talking to each other…but this time they were on the air….

Follow this link below  (it will take you to Stella's podcast) and press play…
Reddy and Sweaty - The Early Years- Vol 1.

Open your ears...but keep an open mind....
It’s Reddy and Sweaty – The Early Years – Vol. 1 first broadcast in March 2002.
This program is (very) rough, but 'reddy'...it's sometimes cool…but mostly sweaty...however it does have one redeeming feature and that's the music... give it a whirl...we dare you...

Are you 'reddy' ???

Hello Bloggers and Bloggettes! It's been a while since we chewed the fat...and it's going to be a little bit longer...but STAY TUNED.....the next installment is going to be....well lets just say ya better be 'reddy' ( and maybe even a little bit sweaty)..see you soon.

When taxi chat goes wrong!

Personally I love the term ‘battle of the sexes’ to me it conjures up images akin to ‘Clash of the Titans’ or ‘Spartacus’ etc…it just seems a little dramatic because it ain’t no battle, just more of a little scuffle…the scuffle of the sexes? A little rough-housing of the sexes? I mean it’s so typical of society to over do it with terminology…I think the battle only started after the phrase was coined…the power of suggestion perhaps?

But all that aside, I do enjoy the observing the real differences between the sexes, and they are just differences…no one need raise a weapon and declare war once differences have been noted. I know this is probably a massive generalisation and I do not meant to offend any of my 6 blog followers ha-ha…in fact I know you all so you can just call me if you have a problem with it.

Take for example the taxi ride and the way it differs between the sexes…

Men: Will hop into a taxi and after telling the driver where he would like to go, settles into a conversation with the taxi driver about oh lets see…anything! And before you know Sir Chat-a-lot appears which is funny considering you can barely get these guys to say more then ‘uh-uh’ at home.



Women: Will hop onto taxi, tell driver where they’d like to go and then she settles in to either make a call, send a text, apply lipstick, go through handbag, adjust tights, fix hair…we don’t just start talking to the driver. The only time you can’t shut us up is when we are in the taxi with friends etc, then Lady Chat-a-lot emerges.

Of course there are occasional exceptions to this rule (there has to be as I could be deemed as being sexists and then consequently sued for defamation of the sexes) but generally I gotta say, this is how it goes, and before you ask, I have spoken to more than one bloke about this and asked why and they all say the same thing “well wouldn’t you want someone to talk to when you’ve been driving around by yourself all day?” Hmmmm interesting comment considering my above point...funny how they don’t quite offer the same consideration to their partners who may have spoken to noone all day and would like a chat?

Now this leads me nicely into a friends experience of what can happen when taxi chat goes wrong? So she and her fella jump into a taxi to take them to a restaurant she’s been dying to try for ages. The ‘fella’ does what he always does, strikes up a conversation with the taxi driver, after many minutes of bonding chat, the driver pipes up and says that he’s always wanted to go to that restaurant too… …you see where this is going can’t you?
The problem now is that the taxi driver and the ‘fella’ have a rapport! oh yes indeed they have really bonded, at which point the ‘fella’ leans over and whispers into her ear “…it would be rude not to invite him to dinner too, don’t you think?” before she can say anything the invitation is out there, the driver ‘graciously’ accepts the invitation and then she finds the words that got stuck in her throat just seconds earlier…”you w***er! This is why I tell you not to talk to the taxi drivers”!!

And what a jolly evening they had (!?)…
I have always meant to ask them  if they got a ‘lift’ home after dinner or did he still put the meter on? ...

...."you talkin' to me????????"   ( This is definately not the type of taxi driver you want to invite to dinner)

Good things to get into ...again

Greetings my little blogtastic buddies!

The Perfect Cup for Coffee!

To say that the mug from which you drink your coffee (or alternative hot beverage of choice) is not important, is like saying that oxygen is overrated....it is important. Let me tell you the saddest tale of them all, the tale of my quest for the perfect cup for coffee ….

So over the course of my time spent in NYC, I had asked a couple of people about the cup that I was seeking…they just looked at me funny (was it my stupid accent putting people off again??..."please sir/ ma'am, don't ask me to say "that's not a knoife...this is a knooife…anymore”)
So, anyhoo, it was my last day in NY, I had until 11pm that night until I jumped on that midnight bus up to Montreal; it was sunny and 31 degrees with 100% humidity so I decided to go for a walk in Central Park..

I nipped into the MOMA (Museum of Modern Art) on route...air conditioning-yes!! And thought I might squeeze in a bit of culture but alas the queue was mahoooosive, so I browsed the shop instead and 'badda bing badda bam'…there’s the mug! “So cool” I thought, “It really is the best NYC souvenir I’ve seen and just look at that shape...the size...the gentle curve of the lip… I’m definitely going to get one”
"Hmmm, ceramic eh" I thought, “I’d rather not carry it around the park with me; I shall collect it on my way back".
I checked the store closing time, "9pm, ripper! Loads of time…" So I walked out of the store and said to the girl behind the counter, in my best Arnie Schwarzenegger voice… "I’ll be back” (actually that part didn’t really happen)...

So after a lovely afternoon in the park, the heat starts to subside I start to walk around the city, here, there, everywhere, it’s awesome, I have to agree with those T-shirts...I love NY! It’s about 7pm by this time, so I reckon I’ll start to head back to the MOMA shop….I rock up to the door and it is CLOSED!!! What! It was meant to be open till 9pm…I’m confused, upset, hot and sweaty, how can this be? Then I checked the opening times… Noooooooo!! I’d read the opening times for wrong bloody day!!!! Friday till 9pm …Mon-Thu till 6.30pm….and it was Tuesday...and I was leaving the city in 2 ½ hours. To say I was peeved is putting it politely. I really, really wanted one, my happy dreams of drinking coffee from it dashed to the ground, like cheap porcelain...
Why can life be so unkind...?

Gimme Shelter ( and gimme a bus!!! )

Some days I just think I'm some sort of sucker for punishment, and if I'm not then explain this...
I'm waiting for a bus under a bus shelter... shelter being a term I use loosely because a shelter seems to imply some sort of protection from the elements... which this 'shelter' was certainly not providing. Anyway, I digress, so I'm waiting for a bus..I'm feeling decidedly unwell as the early signs of a sore throat start to kick in, it edges closer and closer to 21.30, which means I've been standing here like a stunned mullet for almost 30 minutes now.
The rain gets heavier, my throat gets sorer and I feel sicker and sicker with each passing minute; but here is the thing, I keep telling myself ( like I did 15 minutes ago) just wait... it will be here any minute, another minute will be here any minute ...any minute now that old 228 is going to round the corner...


Meanwhile, across the road I can see the bus stop for the other bus I could possibly get home. I watch helplessly as three ( yes Three) potential 'lifts' outta here sail on by! Why oh why, and you know that if I leave my post now and defect to the other stop then you just know that the bus I've been waiting for will show and the other bus at the other stop will suddenly cease!!
So I stay put, after all I've wasted, I mean, invested 40 minutes of my life in just waiting for the bus, well hey lets make it worth my while and call it an hour, nice round figure...one hour, in the rain, cold and sick hooray!!!


What situations like this also tend to do, and I don't want to but I start to seethe with hate for this city as the most annoying people in my vacinity are suddenly highlighted and their annoying actions are amplified by 100%, it brings out the worst in me when I observe the women who finishes her M&S sandwich and just throws the cardboard packaging on the ground, just like that, blatantly littering in front of me and others. And then there is the man who sits there sniffing and spitting with gay abandon , "oh how lovely you are sir...is that seat next to you free? may sit beside you and listen as you gurgle up in prep for another big ol spit? and madame, next time you throw away your litter make it worth your while don't just toss it at your feet toss it at the feet of the man spitting see if you can throw as far as he can spit"


So at the end of it all, the 228 never shows, I jump on another bus which takes me to another bus stop where I have to wait for another bus...all in all it takes close to 1 hour and 20 minutes to get home and this fact is only made worse by the fact that had I walked it would have taken 35 minutes....


Aaaaaarrgghh!

The walk home..... #1

So blame the walk home tonight... that being my daily walk home from the office which gives me approximately 40-45 min to think about this, that and the other. Tonight it hit me out of the blue...write a blog , yeah, that’s never been done before...




ok so cutting right to the chase, I figure that a 'post work-walk home' blog means that some (un) lucky person can share in my walking home thoughts..




In this first edition of 'the walk home' we will cover a small selection of the topics that 'walked' home with me tonight:


1. Fearne Cotton spotted in the Coffee Plant




2. Rider Lists




3.Shutter Island




4. Keane




1) I was ambling through Portobello on Sunday and dropped into the Coffee Plant for...errrr, well coffee and who should be sitting at the first table as you walked in but Fearne Cotton; Howzat!?! Anyhoo happen to know that Fearne or FC as I'll refer to her as from here on in, is a mahoosive fan of a certain brand handbag, whom of which I also work for and the first thing I did was look for her handbag and see if she happened to be sporting something from the ' brand that feeds me' ...and hey hey indeed she did, it was the very cute smudgy, spotty, pink clutch-esque style...Due to copy write laws I'm afraid I cannot use the bags real street name or real description so just use your imagination and trust me...it's a nice bag! FC looked well and this new hair colour suits her. Coincidently I had stayed up till 2am Sat morning just gone watching her and the others do that bike ride for Sports Relief, amazing...and yes I showed my appreciation with a donation. So back to her bag, I also happened to have my bag of the same brand, with me too, in fact you could say that mine is the grand daddy, actually grandmother is more apt, of her style. I wondered for a split second if I should interrupt her coffee break and ask for an exclusive interview for the company newsletter I write...and then I got real...decided to leave her in peace and walked on by with my coffee in my clutches as she drank coffee with her clutch....




2) Rider Lists, you know, that list of items that should be provided for the performer/band/super star/diva, before and after the show..Q Mag used to have a little segment and print one from some band each month ( hilarious) so I was walking home with a couple of bags of shopping, picked up a few essentials on way home, and I thought about how my shopping would look as a rider list ( actually it will probably look like a shopping list) BUT lets just suspend reality for a second and pretend that the following list of items is what I, Stella Big Hair, demands before each 'performance'..




STELLA BIGHAIR’S RIDER:


6 x ready to eat, ripe plums.




1 x ready to eat classic salad with all onion removed.




Johnson & Johnson Moisture Care Baby Wash (for that unmistakable baby-fresh scent)




Pack of 6 Babybel 'light' cheeses




1 Block of feta cheese




2 boxes of feminine related products




1 pack of oatcakes




3 small packs of salt and vinegar mini rice cakes




1 large pack of salt and vinegar rice cakes




3 sachets of ovaltine instant hot chocolate




... And if those items aren't in my dressing room when I arrive then someone will be fired!








3) Shutter Island (or Shuttle Island as I keep mispronouncing it) is the new Scorsese film that sees him getting old Leonardo D-Cap in front of the lens acting up a storm...the reason I was thinking of this film is because I went to see it on Saturday. Beautifully shot I thought, has that 1940's film noir feel...it hasn't been getting rave reviews but people expect a lot from Marty S and perhaps this lacks his usual panache, however it's entertaining ...it's not great, not a masterpiece, but it's good. Better than the soloist which I know isn't an MS film but man I was just thinking that was OVER hyped and boooooring. Go see Shutter Island or wait for me to make my follow up 'Shuttle Island' story of a high speed ferry service that runs from island to island and is always on time until one day when it arrives 10 minutes late at its first stop of the day...why? Find out in 'Shuttle Island' due for release in summer 2000 and never :)




4) Keane, as in the band, were my 'soundtrack' for my think-walk home tonight. Bad Dream was the main song...and I was thinking how the lead singer ( cherub cheeks) went into rehab a year or two ago and I wondered if that song was about his inner turmoil...then I stopped thinking about that and wondered if that song could be covered successfully by a women? There is a line in that song that says 'baby I'm a man, I was born to hate'. You couldn't change that to women it wouldn't rhyme, so could a woman singing that line just be referring to man as a whole, brotherhood of man-as in people-humans?






...and that brings my first blog to a close, feel free to let me know what your 'rider list' is, or if you think a women could sing that Keane song with the same lyrics or if you would like to invest in my movie "Shuttle Island"?




Until then Bye Bye from this Blog-a-rama-banana!