Friday, August 14, 2009

the fish abroad, part two: London







There are quite a lot of people in London. 
There are more people in London that there are in my entire continent.



They funnel themselves from one place to another via the London Underground. I sometimes ask directions to places. I say, is that a blue station, or a red one, and people look at me funny. 
For example, Victoria is blue. Central is red. There are lots of colours, pink, green yellow, and more, all laid out in a handy abstract diagram, so you dont really have any clue where you are going or actually how FAR.


The notion of how far one has to go when one climbs out of a tube station, and in what direction, is a persistent mystery to me. this is of great importance when ones feet have swollen to the size of airships. (Due to spending two days flying right after a week's skiing. Not ideal)




Everyone on the Underground reads these free newspapers that people give out at the entrances. I never take them, because I usually have my hands full and I hate the idea of throwing the paper away when I get off. But that doesnt stop me reading them, over peoples shoulders. Thats how I found out about The Magic Underpants.











The headlines screamed "Emergency supplies of Fat-Busting Knickers Rushed to John Lewis from Brazil"
How could I not read on?I leaned closer to the man holding the paper.
It seemed that there was such a demand for a kind of miracle underwear that actually burned the fat right off your big fat arse as you just WORE them and nothing else, that John Lewis had sold out, and had a new shipment flown in. I leaned even closer...the date was today!




The man shook his paper closed, and without quite looking at me, managed to convey that i had committed some form of social gaffe by leaning on him with my mouth open and reading his paper.   Some people!





Naturally, I had to have some of these magic knickers. Bugger going to the National Gallery, I wanted pants!
 Closing my eyes I concentrated: John Lewis=Oxford Street=YELLOW! 
I found my way to yellow, and emerged into a swollen river of people on Oxford Street. In the distance I saw the John Lewis sign, calling me, over the tide of heads.





You know how those Canadian Salmon have to jump upstream?
They have an easy task compared to walking along Oxford Street. I put my head down and ingored the howling of my feet as I forged a path through the tide. It rained on me suddenly. I bought an umbrella from Boots and felt very English.




It was a wonderful moment to arrive in John Lewis. I promptly made friends with two chaps in the mens hat department, who directed me to the magic pants section. I was worried I might miss out, so they walked me over and pointed. Such good service!





The shipment had arrived from Brazil, and the John Lewis staff had adopted a military style procedure to cope with the traffic. Two marvellous women were on hand to assess you for size and hand you a sample pair, which you then took to another woman waiting further down the human chain to whisk you into a specially set up area for trying. As I stood, finger to chin, pondering which size and colour, a Sloany woman rushed out of the dressing room in regal panic, demanding some other kinds to try. The saleswomen pacified her, and gave her what she wanted. I decided I didnt like the idea of struggling to squeeze myself into magic knickers on front of scary women, and besides, I had a plane to catch. To Italy. We made an educated guess, and I seized my prize, making my way to the sales counter.




Do you think they really work? I asked the lady behind the counter.
Oh yes, she said, it says so on the label!
Back on the tube, making my way to the airport, I read te packet. Apparently they operate by heating up your bottom with chrystals, after which the fat molecules are carried to the surface of your skin and whizzed away. Fabulous! A hot bottom, skinnier by the minute!


It was 32 degree Celsius in Venice when I arrived, and the wearing of my hot underpants almost made me pass out. I checked the mirror that night to see any difference...then read the label.
"Must be worn every day for 30 days."
 I decided I could not cope with a roasted bottom in that type of heat. I decided I would defer the wearing of my marvellous underpants until it was cooler.






The London Underground can be such a useful place, can it not?



Tottenham Court Mosaics by Edouardo Paolozzi, 1980's











22 comments:

lmrb said...

Ah, John Lewis, demanding Sloanes, and a (post) colonial gal introducing new newspaper reading rules. Wonderful, as were the photos of London's bottomless pit. So colourful, could this be London or a dream? Another smile and knowingness via your words & images. Thank you.

Ulrike said...

delicious photos. the colours ... at london underground stations, of all places!

the quest for the m.u. and the m.u. themselves cracked me up.

funny

Suse said...

Possibly best post ever.

Who doesn't want a hot, skinny arse?

the projectivist said...

oh lovely LOVELY Fifi!
what beautiful pictures - all those blurring, moving, busy-bodies
and the colour fusion!
marvellous stuff!

i bet we get those pants here in Australia in approx. the year 2012.
it takes a little while for it to filter down to Aus.

you'll be the envy of us all!
of course you'll have to flash them, so that we might marvel at the wondrousness.

Mary said...

I cannot for the life of me remember those mosaics at Tottenham Court.

I wish I had psychically known you were going to be buying hot pants from Brazil 'cause I would have asked you to get me a pair!

Pam said...

Intruiging. Everything! The colourful underground- the pants.Yes cyrstalized, fat-burning knickers in London have upped the ante in the intruiging stakes!!

Meggie said...

The mind is dazzled by the colourful mosaics, while contemplating a hot shrinking bottom!

Jellyhead said...

fifi you are a joy to read!

Did you happen to buy a second pair of those undies for MOI?

XX

Ampersand Duck said...

Wow, they would be PERFECT for a Canberra winter. You should be the Ass-tralian importer :)

fifi said...

lmrb, you are very welcome. Yes it is such a bottomless pit, but so filled with riches!

suse, I reckon you HAVE a hot skinny arse.

U;rike, I have always found the underground, despite its horrid gritty airlessness, such an intrigue and a marvel Oh that we had one here.

Proj, I am not sure the sight of me IN the undies would be a very nice sight..but i should have bought LOTS.

Mary , as if you need them. They'd burn what little of your bum there is right into oblivion. I have never forgotten the sight of those mosaics from when I first saw them, oh how I marvelled.


Pam, I'll keep you posted. I ve just got to remember to put the stupid things on.

Jelly, I am well acquainted with your behind and it needs no shrinking at ALL. Otherwise I'd have bought you some, of course!

Hello &duck, yes they would be absolutely perfect for Canberra. I'll look into marketing them....asstralian, verrry goood ;-)

Meggie, hot and shrinking is what I want . Oh yes.

Leenie said...

They must work. It says so on the lable! If only that were all that was necessary to make something a success. A hot skinny lable. Love the photos with their sense of motion and energy. Sooo jealous of your opportunity to see the great art and arsses of Europe.

rhubarbwhine said...

I am so loving the pictorials, a part of the world I have never seen brought to life wth words and pictures like only you can do. thankyou!

Kirti said...

living vicariously through your travels Fifi. Enjoy lovely one! xxxx

Isabelle said...

Fifi (she said sternly). You're making this up. I live in Edinburgh. We have a John Lewis. We have fat bottoms. (We're too refined to call them... what you called them.) Our need of shrinking pants is as great as Londoners'. I have never heard of such pants.

Mind you, if they work...

fifi said...

its true Isabelle!


see here:
http://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-1202610/Demand-anti-cellulite-knickers-means-women-rationed-tills.html


or here!

http://underwearqueen.wordpress.com/2009/07/22/cellulite-knickers-selling-like-hot-cakes/

I would be speaking to the John Lewis Underwear department if I were you, clearly they consider at Sots women to be svelte already.

I have managed to remember to put them on three days in a row. At least the make me LOOK slimmer.

little red hen said...

You are very funny! And I too want some of those pants but I wonder do they do a whole body suit???

Anonymous said...
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
little red hen said...

P.S. Happy birthday!

Linda Sue said...

I now wnat burn your bumm panties- Must get to London before they run out of them...Love the shots of the tube! Love your blog!

Luhlahh said...

Secret August Birthday Girl! What day of the month betowed you with the honour of having lived one more year on this earth?
Lou X

Molly said...

Fifi! You had me howling! All the way from the stuffy gentleman who begrudged your perusing skinny-hot pants info in his newspaper to visions of Isabelle, once again galumphing for her bus, frame under her arm, with the added joy of butt-burning magic hot pants working their magic under her demure [I'm sure] outer clothing! Priceless piece of writing!

Pam said...
This comment has been removed by the author.