Hello,
After missing the turning twice already, Mr. Warehouse and I pulled into the driveway of the photographers studio once more and the gates opened, I wondered as to where that ponsy family went and how their wonderful Swarovski encrusted lives had got to. Nevertheless as Mr. Warehouse anxiously waffled on about what our budget was for photos was and if we needed a safe word for when we were in the viewing room (Anyone would have thought we were arranging some sort of BDSM relationship with our slightly-camp photographer) I parked my little Vivienne and took the short gravel path to the studio's.
Sitting down in the viewing room I got ready for the hard sell and eye-watering prices. Watching the initial video of our little pooch and us. Music with an upbeat tempo and the seventy or so images that were taken during our shoot. Settling into the comfy sofa's with our lattes and cappuccino's the video ended and Mr. Warehouse and I were left to whittle down the photo's into the yes, no and maybe piles. Nearly forty-minutes in and we had binned more than half and were left with sixteen images we were struggling to pick off. With Mr. Warehouse looking to me for my advice I simply didn't know what to say and maybe a safe word at this point would have been a good thing.
Silence breaking we listened to the photographer as he asked us what our budget was. We had not even really planned to be asked such a question and as silly as that sounds we really hadn't thought about how much we had or wanted to spend. I responded with a polite but reasonable offer of up to £400.00 since it was on the run up to Christmas and all that it brings we wouldn't be able to stretch much farther than that. In all fairness if I could get a package for half of that then I would be walking out of those doors a happy lady, but I had to remember that for me it was just flicking through pictures of Golden Labrador Retrievers but for Mr. Warehouse that was his baby. His furry, excitable, traffic-detesting, tennis-ball loving, scratch-my-bum-please and constantly hungry baby.
Since the moment the bundle of fur arrived they were inseparable, firstly being bought by his brother but being unable to keep her in his rented accommodation he palmed the pup off to his mom and teenage brother, the pre-teen Mr. Warehouse. Plonking this little Andrex-puppy-lookalike down into his lap, Mr. Warehouse raised her through puppy-hood to an adult and what I can only describe as the most happy-go-lucky dog I think I have ever met and that not to mention her perfect temperament and ability to respond brilliantly to any situation be it children, fireworks, loud noise's, different transportation and new places. She is the best step-pooch I could have ever asked for and for the majority of the time she is very well behaved apart from maybe that time she stole my pizza slice. Oh and that time she got tangled up in the doggy-boot protector whilst I'm hitting seventy on the motorway when I look in my rear-view mirror only to see her swaddled like a newborn. Or that time she tried to steal the KFC from the builders in York. Yes. Other than these moments she was a very good dog.
So now was crunch time. Money. I feel that its a dirty subject to talk about and in all fairness I think rather vulgar in any situation to discuss finances or wealth or money. Now its not like I own a yacht in the South of France, but equally I and not rummaging thought the bins to find something remotely edible to have for dinner. I am a JAM - Just About Managing. I have enough money to spend it on nice things for me and other people, but also enough to go out to dinner once a week or just go for a drive because I'm bored. I think sometimes money is a subject left to those in jobs whereby it is necessary and for me that is not the case.
Anyways, there we were in the photographer viewing room looking at sixteen beautifully remastered images of Mr. Warehouse, the dog and I, with some of the snaps just her by herself. Looking at one another again in a hope some money might just fall out of the sky at this point in time, the photographer broke the ice by stating that he could do us a deal with the sixteen images on screen and the full feature-length video included for £300.00. Totting it up in my headed it worked out to be a good deal, and so it should be - We had to be mucked about for some wanky posho's to have their snotty brats photographed. I mean in all fairness there wasn't much cheaper we could get it for with the video being £100.00 alone and the photo's including copyright laws were working out to be about £12.50 each I thought it was a cracking deal.
Shaking on it, Mr. Warehouse pulled out his card and we paid in full, leaving very happy customers and even more anxious and buzzing to see the results. I felt like new parents and that we had all this news and photos to show off to everyone and I just couldn't wait. Late last week they arrived and I am overjoyed with the prints and images. The video is just as good as Mr. Warehouse and I remember it and I am pleased we will soon have some wonderful prints and canvases to adorn our walls with. I don't have any reason to use the photographer any time soon unfortunately but certainly when life's big events conclude I will think of no-where else but his studios and lens. Maybe now I can have my own photogenic pup!?
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Showing posts with label Fur. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Fur. Show all posts
Monday, 28 November 2016
Monday, 5 January 2015
Fiery Frumps, Fabulous Furs and Festivities Galore!
Evening All,
And a very Happy New Year to everyone. Hope 2015 has been treating you well and that you are all now mid-binge, scoffing chocolate and downing wine from all your Christmas/New Years Resolution-Detox. I love a good binge! But alas I have set myself some New Years Resolutions for myself for the coming year. Loosing weight never works and actually I think I am happy being a wobbly but normal looking lady. I am in no need to slim down because the man I am with finds me sexy just as I am. What a darling?! I am however cutting down on take-out and am sticking to once or twice a month at most. Secondly I plan to improve my time-keeping and not be late which will no end make my nearest and dearest happy, especially long suffering BFF's - Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb. Other than that though I have not much planned although I would like to travel more and maybe even learn to drive? No doubt I shall keep you informed on my going-on's as today I celebrate over two-years of writing for you all.
One thing that New Years also does is encourage people to get out there and drink to oblivion, partying into the wee small hours and kissing strangers at the stroke of Midnight. No this is not Cinderella, it is I ... Abbey-Lou. Despite being quite pissed by the time I left my work colleagues on Christmas Eve last week and continuing the festivities well into Christmas Day and Boxing Day (Clocking up into the double figures on bottles of Rose I might add), I still felt the need to completely obliterate myself on New Years Eve. Spending the last few hours of 2014 with Mr. Warehouse and a few friends including Mr. Creepy-Warehouse-Guy himself. Starting on the Prosecco with four-hours to go I started slow but bubbles always get me wasted and very, very quickly too. Nevertheless I was slightly sozzled by the time we reached the local pub in Marston Mortaine in Bedford.
As the evening continued I danced the night away to hits including the Macarena, The Cha Cha Slide and even catching the end of Mambo Number Five after being so drunk I couldn't get off the toilet. With about half hour left before the New Year Kicked in Mr. CWG suggested that beyond the children's Slide in the beer garden there were some swings. Now I love swings (Although I must stress I am no swinger although a consider-er) and upon hearing this fantastic and magical news I proceeded in platforms to discover such wonder and merriment. It was not to be found though as I soon discovered that not only was the ground soft and wet from the rain, but the grass was boggy and that it would only be a matter of time before I fell over. No sooner had I thought this I misplaced my footing and was plunged head first into a freezing cold mud pit. Tenacious through and through I stood and found my way to the swings. Cold and wet I realised that this was not one of the better ideas I had ever had and so went back to find the others and Mr. Warehouse. His face was not best pleased as I walked back through the packed public house with mud and dirt dripping from my chin to my toes.
After cleaning myself up in the toilets, finding more booze at the bar and throwing some shapes on the dance-floor I realised people were chanting. "...5...4...3...2...1..." I could hear them counting away. Realising it was finally New Year I grabbed my man and holding onto for dear life we kissed passionately before we joined a bunch of people I don't know and will never know to sing 'Auld Lang Syne'. The night concluded by me somehow getting home after falling over several more times and then being sick in Mr. Warehouse's dog's bowl. Nice! And with some recovering in the form of good food, great company and some well needed time to sober up the past few days, Mr. Warehouse and I decided to take a trip to London.
Waking early on Sunday morning Mr. Warehouse and I struggled to not to have sex with each other as normal in the mornings let alone prise ourselves from the warmth of the bed sheets. Stepping out into the icy air I thought that it would soon warm up and after postponing for a day because of the weather already I personally was determined to do something other than lounge around and waste yet another day in front of the box. But it didn't get any warmer. In fact it only got worse. Minus-two-degrees-Celsius it got yesterday. Minus-two. Now I know to some of you in other parts of the world must have thought that this kind of temperature was normal, maybe even mild, but here in Blighty it was more than just a bit nippy. Frosty fingers and thawed thighs began to melt as Starbucks trickled down our throats, easing the missing of the first train.
Soon enough though we were in the Big Smoke and strange as it were I was more anxious and dubious about going. It had been almost a year to the day that I had left London and my on/off relationship with Mr. Cheese and to be back was just odd. Constantly in a rush I kept feeling myself slip into the mode of Londoner whereby you want to get from 'A' to 'B' as quickly as possible. Nevertheless I really enjoyed my time with Mr. Warehouse, wandering around the sites of the City and major landmarks before heading to the Natural History Museum for some culture and to see stuffed animals, rather like a dead zoo. Now if you have not gone then I strongly suggest you do. Not only will you be walking around the Mammal section making up voices and tag lines for the lifeless soles but you will also be enthralled in the beauty of these creatures and just how spectacular life can be.
After a few selfies with Hippopotamuses and Porpoises alike Mr. Warehouse and I headed to the luxury that is the Royal Borough of Kensington and Chelsea to visit one of the world's most prestigious stores ... Harrods of London! Immediately stepping out onto the Winter Knightsbridge pavement, Mr. Warehouse became alarmingly aware of his surroundings and just by looking at him you could tell he was completely out of his comfort zone. Trying to make him feel at ease I thought I would start with the Pet Shop. Asking the footman on the door as to where we were in the direction of he explained that this had been closed for more than a year. Instead I marched Mr. Warehouse and I to the womenswear department. Lift doors opening my eyes nearly exploded. All I could see was fur. Mink, Rabbit, Fox, Chinchilla and Alpaca, All of it real as life itself once was for these animals. I was in fur heaven! And the best thing about all of this was not only were the clothing and accessories made with real and bonafide, quality fur; But there was a sale on! All of the top designers were there: Gucci, Prada, Dior and my favourite Valentino were all hosting their coats and jackets. Dolce and Gabbana was one of the only boutiques I actually had a proper nose around and whilst Mr. Warehouse felt like a fish out of water I needed this. I couldn't go home to a fluffy dog and I certainly didn't have the money for the four and five figure price-tags on some of these outerwear so I had to indulge myself whenever I could.
Revelling in the luxury and hungrily running my hands over the garments made me feel happy. But my boyfriends face did not. And so sensing the shop assistant clocking that we were not here to buy and the fact that Mr. Warehouse was now tired and grumping we headed for the tube home. Unfortunately my dear lover's attention was captured by a lady at the till. Not for her stunning good looks or celebrity status, oh no! It was because she had just bought the red-dyed Mink fur cropped jacket and with a price tag more than what Mr. Warehouse earns in a year he took it completely to heart. Storming off and in a foul mood for the rest of the day until we got into bed he ranted on about this women and where her money came from, how she got it, where she spent it and what on. Nothing I did appeased him and as he ranted on about how that one item of clothing could have written off his debts more than five-times-over and how there were more deserving people of the money spent - Mainly him I figured?! He still wouldn't pipe down as we were sitting down to dinner, my treat, at Honest Burger in Kings Cross - Genuinely one of the best burgers I think you will ever have in your entire existence. If you haven't been there then go and if you have well what are you waiting for ... GO AGAIN! I think if I ever had to choose my favourite-est (yes that is a word) restaurant in the world then that would be it. With only five across the whole capital I am glad that I splurged but I just wished my boyfriend wasn't so hung up about money, especially since it wasn't even his.
Nevertheless we had a good day out and exhausted as we were we still managed to find time to fuck at the end of the day. Falling asleep in each others I whispered about how hard it is going to be not having him next to me as most if not all of the past few weeks over the Christmas and New Years break from work we have spent together, drifting off as one. I am so used to being spooned and only having to reach out for Mr. Warehouse at night, it is going to be strange not sleeping together. But alas I must oblige as the alternative of moving in with each other is far, far too soon. And besides, I like my own space and time away from him. I think it makes us stronger and better as a couple.
Looking into 2015, I don't know what the world will bring me, but one thing is for sure, this year blogging-wise I plan to continue with my life as a twenty-something and enjoy life to its fullest keeping you all in the loop and giving you the scoop on what's hot and what's not in the world of moi! I will however be trying to shorten my tales of fun and frolics as I feel they are too long sometimes. How I do love to witter on. If however you would like me to continue writing big long essay's that fill up your coffee breaks at work and evenings in bed then feel free to message me, I would love to hear your thoughts and opinions as well as any ideas for making my life a little more interesting or what you would like me to do in 2015! Serious suggestions please I do not want to be bummed by Barack Obama nor do I want to give a hand-job to a slightly aggressive Yak.
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
And a very Happy New Year to everyone. Hope 2015 has been treating you well and that you are all now mid-binge, scoffing chocolate and downing wine from all your Christmas/New Years Resolution-Detox. I love a good binge! But alas I have set myself some New Years Resolutions for myself for the coming year. Loosing weight never works and actually I think I am happy being a wobbly but normal looking lady. I am in no need to slim down because the man I am with finds me sexy just as I am. What a darling?! I am however cutting down on take-out and am sticking to once or twice a month at most. Secondly I plan to improve my time-keeping and not be late which will no end make my nearest and dearest happy, especially long suffering BFF's - Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb. Other than that though I have not much planned although I would like to travel more and maybe even learn to drive? No doubt I shall keep you informed on my going-on's as today I celebrate over two-years of writing for you all.
One thing that New Years also does is encourage people to get out there and drink to oblivion, partying into the wee small hours and kissing strangers at the stroke of Midnight. No this is not Cinderella, it is I ... Abbey-Lou. Despite being quite pissed by the time I left my work colleagues on Christmas Eve last week and continuing the festivities well into Christmas Day and Boxing Day (Clocking up into the double figures on bottles of Rose I might add), I still felt the need to completely obliterate myself on New Years Eve. Spending the last few hours of 2014 with Mr. Warehouse and a few friends including Mr. Creepy-Warehouse-Guy himself. Starting on the Prosecco with four-hours to go I started slow but bubbles always get me wasted and very, very quickly too. Nevertheless I was slightly sozzled by the time we reached the local pub in Marston Mortaine in Bedford.
As the evening continued I danced the night away to hits including the Macarena, The Cha Cha Slide and even catching the end of Mambo Number Five after being so drunk I couldn't get off the toilet. With about half hour left before the New Year Kicked in Mr. CWG suggested that beyond the children's Slide in the beer garden there were some swings. Now I love swings (Although I must stress I am no swinger although a consider-er) and upon hearing this fantastic and magical news I proceeded in platforms to discover such wonder and merriment. It was not to be found though as I soon discovered that not only was the ground soft and wet from the rain, but the grass was boggy and that it would only be a matter of time before I fell over. No sooner had I thought this I misplaced my footing and was plunged head first into a freezing cold mud pit. Tenacious through and through I stood and found my way to the swings. Cold and wet I realised that this was not one of the better ideas I had ever had and so went back to find the others and Mr. Warehouse. His face was not best pleased as I walked back through the packed public house with mud and dirt dripping from my chin to my toes.
After cleaning myself up in the toilets, finding more booze at the bar and throwing some shapes on the dance-floor I realised people were chanting. "...5...4...3...2...1..." I could hear them counting away. Realising it was finally New Year I grabbed my man and holding onto for dear life we kissed passionately before we joined a bunch of people I don't know and will never know to sing 'Auld Lang Syne'. The night concluded by me somehow getting home after falling over several more times and then being sick in Mr. Warehouse's dog's bowl. Nice! And with some recovering in the form of good food, great company and some well needed time to sober up the past few days, Mr. Warehouse and I decided to take a trip to London.
Waking early on Sunday morning Mr. Warehouse and I struggled to not to have sex with each other as normal in the mornings let alone prise ourselves from the warmth of the bed sheets. Stepping out into the icy air I thought that it would soon warm up and after postponing for a day because of the weather already I personally was determined to do something other than lounge around and waste yet another day in front of the box. But it didn't get any warmer. In fact it only got worse. Minus-two-degrees-Celsius it got yesterday. Minus-two. Now I know to some of you in other parts of the world must have thought that this kind of temperature was normal, maybe even mild, but here in Blighty it was more than just a bit nippy. Frosty fingers and thawed thighs began to melt as Starbucks trickled down our throats, easing the missing of the first train.
Soon enough though we were in the Big Smoke and strange as it were I was more anxious and dubious about going. It had been almost a year to the day that I had left London and my on/off relationship with Mr. Cheese and to be back was just odd. Constantly in a rush I kept feeling myself slip into the mode of Londoner whereby you want to get from 'A' to 'B' as quickly as possible. Nevertheless I really enjoyed my time with Mr. Warehouse, wandering around the sites of the City and major landmarks before heading to the Natural History Museum for some culture and to see stuffed animals, rather like a dead zoo. Now if you have not gone then I strongly suggest you do. Not only will you be walking around the Mammal section making up voices and tag lines for the lifeless soles but you will also be enthralled in the beauty of these creatures and just how spectacular life can be.
After a few selfies with Hippopotamuses and Porpoises alike Mr. Warehouse and I headed to the luxury that is the Royal Borough of Kensington and Chelsea to visit one of the world's most prestigious stores ... Harrods of London! Immediately stepping out onto the Winter Knightsbridge pavement, Mr. Warehouse became alarmingly aware of his surroundings and just by looking at him you could tell he was completely out of his comfort zone. Trying to make him feel at ease I thought I would start with the Pet Shop. Asking the footman on the door as to where we were in the direction of he explained that this had been closed for more than a year. Instead I marched Mr. Warehouse and I to the womenswear department. Lift doors opening my eyes nearly exploded. All I could see was fur. Mink, Rabbit, Fox, Chinchilla and Alpaca, All of it real as life itself once was for these animals. I was in fur heaven! And the best thing about all of this was not only were the clothing and accessories made with real and bonafide, quality fur; But there was a sale on! All of the top designers were there: Gucci, Prada, Dior and my favourite Valentino were all hosting their coats and jackets. Dolce and Gabbana was one of the only boutiques I actually had a proper nose around and whilst Mr. Warehouse felt like a fish out of water I needed this. I couldn't go home to a fluffy dog and I certainly didn't have the money for the four and five figure price-tags on some of these outerwear so I had to indulge myself whenever I could.
Revelling in the luxury and hungrily running my hands over the garments made me feel happy. But my boyfriends face did not. And so sensing the shop assistant clocking that we were not here to buy and the fact that Mr. Warehouse was now tired and grumping we headed for the tube home. Unfortunately my dear lover's attention was captured by a lady at the till. Not for her stunning good looks or celebrity status, oh no! It was because she had just bought the red-dyed Mink fur cropped jacket and with a price tag more than what Mr. Warehouse earns in a year he took it completely to heart. Storming off and in a foul mood for the rest of the day until we got into bed he ranted on about this women and where her money came from, how she got it, where she spent it and what on. Nothing I did appeased him and as he ranted on about how that one item of clothing could have written off his debts more than five-times-over and how there were more deserving people of the money spent - Mainly him I figured?! He still wouldn't pipe down as we were sitting down to dinner, my treat, at Honest Burger in Kings Cross - Genuinely one of the best burgers I think you will ever have in your entire existence. If you haven't been there then go and if you have well what are you waiting for ... GO AGAIN! I think if I ever had to choose my favourite-est (yes that is a word) restaurant in the world then that would be it. With only five across the whole capital I am glad that I splurged but I just wished my boyfriend wasn't so hung up about money, especially since it wasn't even his.
Nevertheless we had a good day out and exhausted as we were we still managed to find time to fuck at the end of the day. Falling asleep in each others I whispered about how hard it is going to be not having him next to me as most if not all of the past few weeks over the Christmas and New Years break from work we have spent together, drifting off as one. I am so used to being spooned and only having to reach out for Mr. Warehouse at night, it is going to be strange not sleeping together. But alas I must oblige as the alternative of moving in with each other is far, far too soon. And besides, I like my own space and time away from him. I think it makes us stronger and better as a couple.
Looking into 2015, I don't know what the world will bring me, but one thing is for sure, this year blogging-wise I plan to continue with my life as a twenty-something and enjoy life to its fullest keeping you all in the loop and giving you the scoop on what's hot and what's not in the world of moi! I will however be trying to shorten my tales of fun and frolics as I feel they are too long sometimes. How I do love to witter on. If however you would like me to continue writing big long essay's that fill up your coffee breaks at work and evenings in bed then feel free to message me, I would love to hear your thoughts and opinions as well as any ideas for making my life a little more interesting or what you would like me to do in 2015! Serious suggestions please I do not want to be bummed by Barack Obama nor do I want to give a hand-job to a slightly aggressive Yak.
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)