Why on earth do we need bloody cake hoops?
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Hi I'm Nev. The husband of Kate, the mastermind behind all that is BrambleSky - and this is my journey as she embarks on her journey. Or whatever the hell this is...
I wander downstairs in all innocence, I don’t mean to forget that the house I go to work each day to pay for - is actually the ‘workshop' and sometimes even a friggin ‘canvas'... The dining room table I look forward to eating my breakfast / lunch / dinner upon is now caked in wood, metal ,wine glasses, nails, screws, paint, gin goblets, glitter, abandoned ice trays and varnish . The dishcloths are strewn with obscure smears of glue and pasta, the glasses are occasional paint pots and the plates take on the colour palette of the very last order.
Then there’s this new bloody thing called a Cake Hoop - I ask you - what the ruddy flip nonsense is that. I mean, I’ve just got my head around the idea of ‘Door Furniture' and matching socks . Hoola Hoops, even loop the bloody loops but what type of cake needs a buggering Hoop. I mentioned this, just the once , and when I woke up with mid concussion I was dragged through the ‘on trend bible ‘ by my ear to a place where something called ‘Wedding Decor' in all its Gold, Silver and Magenta glory. It appears that I’m some type of moron for not knowing this but its perfectly acceptable, apparently for me to ingest that much of the by product of BrambleSky orders that my wee glows glitter in the dark.
A life in admiration of one so close to you is not easy .
It’s hard to step far enough away to get any perspective. One thing that brings that perspective closer to the unsuspecting retina is something called a ‘Cake Hoop' (who knew?) . Cake Hoops like Wedding Decor are a new entry in the Wikipedia of my life. They’ve never existed in my narrative even though they might exist in my living room, spare room, study, garage and every-bloody-where else .
Cake Hoops in all their guises adorn the table I’m perched on now (once known as a dining table) now a work surface for wood and metal work, paints in every hue known and unknown to this unsuspecting man, the occasional glitter, varnish and wood dust. It makes for an interesting garnish to actual ‘dinner' (I’m convinced that wasn’t actual Parmesan on my Pappardelle last night , more probable was some glitter based sawdust). This little slice of life is but one of the small sunlight fingers that creep into the late afternoon shadows of my life with my wife - she of BrambleSky , at the cutting edge of an actual ‘edge’ and buzzing about like a smorgasbord of Jo Malone fragrances , a blur of muttering chroma zones spluttering a demented volley of dimensions, colours, "where’s my bloody ( delete as appropriate) Phone , Brush , Keys , Scissors, Wine , Tape Measure , Wine , Packing tape and Wine". On the rare occasion I've dared to offer a ‘pardon’ she’s told me to ‘ do one ‘ and leans down and snogs one of the dogs (just so I know my place).
The life of a silent ( if he knows what’s good for him ) investor aka ‘The Husband ‘is quite simple . Be good at what I’m supposedly good at i.e. earning enough to keep the ‘Love Boat of us ‘and all we posses afloat whilst Madam (a perfectly illustrative word in this case ) does what she does best - create. So , whilst you may hear the occasional murmur from me please know that I’m like the catering at a wedding - necessary but not the main show...
Written by Neville Irani and curated by Worsley Creative Services Ltd