Almerinda
Registered Shopper
Wednesday the 21st of February - two weeks before the Brenda Edwards TSV.
The TSV fashion coordinator and team are in a conference room at QVC towers to discuss Brenda Edwards’ first TSV. Order is called and, amidst much scraping of chair legs and slopping of hot beverages from QVC mugs onto the table top, a sort of silence ensues. Biscuits, left over from Christmas stock and well past their sell by dates, are passed around.
‘Okay everyone, let’s get started’ says the TSV fashion coordinator clapping her hands and raising her voice to blot out the munching. ‘I’d like to draw your attention to the mannequin wearing Brenda Edwards’ very first TSV.’ Heads turn to look at the tatty headless mannequin in the corner sporting a rather lurid jumpsuit complete with tie belt. ‘Who is Brenda Edwards anyway?’ someone mutters sotto voce, ‘I think she’s a friend of Ruth Langsford’s.’ is the whispered reply, ‘but more importantly, who dressed that poor mannequin? If it had eyes, they’d be watering’. There are sniggers. As well as proving that you don’t have to be human to have a camel toe, the polyester and elastane garment was all rucked up and twisted with the belt tied tightly around the mannequin’s ‘neck’ in a lop sided but apparently very on trend pussy-bow. ‘Did one of the models dress it then?’ More sniggers. ‘Or Catherine Huntley’ says someone else ‘remember when she put both of her legs into one leg of that Ongenu jumpsuit!!’
The coordinator tries again. ‘The jumpsuit is available in five options with the bottom half in a solid colour for the less adventurous customers who don’t really want to look like an upholstered chair but who do like to have their cellulite admired by all and sundry. My question is, which of the presenters is going to be given the honour of wearing the garment at the launch?’
Heads are scratched and cheeks puffed out. ‘Well’ says someone, ‘it can’t be Jackie because she and Ruth are joined at the hip so we need someone else, preferably as un-Jacky as possible.’ ‘We have to rule out a few people from the get-go’ says the coordinator. ‘There are some presenters who can’t do the midnight shift either because they have babies or because they just nod off that late at night’. ‘That rules out Katherine and Eilidh cos they have babies’ someone says. ‘And Chloe’ says another voice. ‘Anne has a bit of difficulty keeping awake these days so it can’t be her’. ‘How about Charlie Brooks?’ pipes up a voice. ‘He won’t really want to wear the jumpsuit will he?’ says someone. ‘I didn’t mean that he’d have to wear it you numpty, he’d just co-present with Bren.’ ‘Pity. He’s nice and tall so he could carry it off and perhaps do one of his slow reveals!!’ is the reply.
‘Well’ says the coordinator attempting to get the situation under control ‘it looks like it’s going to be one of the usual midnight suspects then; Jill Franks, Jilly Halliday or Debbie Flint.’ There are groans then someone pipes up ‘Can’t be Jill!.’ ‘Why not? There isn’t a green option is there?’ ‘No, but there is a clause in her contract stating that over a 28-day period she doesn’t have to wear more than one tasteless polyester garment and she did the Bendy Lisi TSV not long ago.’ ‘Pity, as she is slim and it’s always fun to see her in something she has to pretend to like’. ‘Yeah, but the jumpsuit has two sleeves and can’t be worn with leggings, so she’s out.’ ‘Debs Flint then, she’ll wear anything and she’ll get on with Brenda’. ‘Naw, Debbie is down at Sheep-Dip doing a writing course so she’s not an option.’ There is a longish silence and then someone says ‘How about Ophelia, or Ali K - they look good in anything.’ ‘No, Ali’s not around at the mo and didn’t you know that Ophelia is going on holiday to Egypt?’ ‘That leaves poor Jilly then…… who’s going to ask her?’ More silence. ‘She’s going to be upset..... she did that dreadful Frank Usher monstrosity a few days ago and then that Finery dress which she actually didn’t look too bad in’. ‘Jilly it is then, I’ll go and speak to her now’ sighs the coordinator and slopes off unwilling leaving the others to pack up their stuff and go.
In one of the rooms flanking the conference room Julia Roberts and Alex Kramer are listening in with QVC tumblers pressed against their respective ears and the wall. ‘Great!’ says Julia triumphantly as they leave the room and walk away, ‘we got away with it, they didn’t even mention us!’ ‘No’ says Alex as they exchange a high-five and follow the coordinator towards the dressing rooms, ‘they didn’t did they!’ Their footsteps slow down and they glance at each other with worried expressions. ‘They didn’t even mention us…….’ They say in hushed union.
In the room on the other side of the conference room Miceal Murphy slowly removes his QVC tumbler from the wall and turns sadly away. ‘They are never going to ask me are they Glenn?’ he says to Mr. Campbell who is sitting at a table studying Men’s Vogue. ‘I’ve told them I’d be happy to wear the TSV’s and I love a jumpsuit’ Miceal says on the verge of tears. Glenn stands up, adjusts his trouser legs so that they sit exactly an inch about his ankle bone and pats Miceal on the shoulder in a comforting manner, ‘Give it time Miceal’ he says kindly, ‘just give it time.’
‘Okay everyone, let’s get started’ says the TSV fashion coordinator clapping her hands and raising her voice to blot out the munching. ‘I’d like to draw your attention to the mannequin wearing Brenda Edwards’ very first TSV.’ Heads turn to look at the tatty headless mannequin in the corner sporting a rather lurid jumpsuit complete with tie belt. ‘Who is Brenda Edwards anyway?’ someone mutters sotto voce, ‘I think she’s a friend of Ruth Langsford’s.’ is the whispered reply, ‘but more importantly, who dressed that poor mannequin? If it had eyes, they’d be watering’. There are sniggers. As well as proving that you don’t have to be human to have a camel toe, the polyester and elastane garment was all rucked up and twisted with the belt tied tightly around the mannequin’s ‘neck’ in a lop sided but apparently very on trend pussy-bow. ‘Did one of the models dress it then?’ More sniggers. ‘Or Catherine Huntley’ says someone else ‘remember when she put both of her legs into one leg of that Ongenu jumpsuit!!’
The coordinator tries again. ‘The jumpsuit is available in five options with the bottom half in a solid colour for the less adventurous customers who don’t really want to look like an upholstered chair but who do like to have their cellulite admired by all and sundry. My question is, which of the presenters is going to be given the honour of wearing the garment at the launch?’
Heads are scratched and cheeks puffed out. ‘Well’ says someone, ‘it can’t be Jackie because she and Ruth are joined at the hip so we need someone else, preferably as un-Jacky as possible.’ ‘We have to rule out a few people from the get-go’ says the coordinator. ‘There are some presenters who can’t do the midnight shift either because they have babies or because they just nod off that late at night’. ‘That rules out Katherine and Eilidh cos they have babies’ someone says. ‘And Chloe’ says another voice. ‘Anne has a bit of difficulty keeping awake these days so it can’t be her’. ‘How about Charlie Brooks?’ pipes up a voice. ‘He won’t really want to wear the jumpsuit will he?’ says someone. ‘I didn’t mean that he’d have to wear it you numpty, he’d just co-present with Bren.’ ‘Pity. He’s nice and tall so he could carry it off and perhaps do one of his slow reveals!!’ is the reply.
‘Well’ says the coordinator attempting to get the situation under control ‘it looks like it’s going to be one of the usual midnight suspects then; Jill Franks, Jilly Halliday or Debbie Flint.’ There are groans then someone pipes up ‘Can’t be Jill!.’ ‘Why not? There isn’t a green option is there?’ ‘No, but there is a clause in her contract stating that over a 28-day period she doesn’t have to wear more than one tasteless polyester garment and she did the Bendy Lisi TSV not long ago.’ ‘Pity, as she is slim and it’s always fun to see her in something she has to pretend to like’. ‘Yeah, but the jumpsuit has two sleeves and can’t be worn with leggings, so she’s out.’ ‘Debs Flint then, she’ll wear anything and she’ll get on with Brenda’. ‘Naw, Debbie is down at Sheep-Dip doing a writing course so she’s not an option.’ There is a longish silence and then someone says ‘How about Ophelia, or Ali K - they look good in anything.’ ‘No, Ali’s not around at the mo and didn’t you know that Ophelia is going on holiday to Egypt?’ ‘That leaves poor Jilly then…… who’s going to ask her?’ More silence. ‘She’s going to be upset..... she did that dreadful Frank Usher monstrosity a few days ago and then that Finery dress which she actually didn’t look too bad in’. ‘Jilly it is then, I’ll go and speak to her now’ sighs the coordinator and slopes off unwilling leaving the others to pack up their stuff and go.
In one of the rooms flanking the conference room Julia Roberts and Alex Kramer are listening in with QVC tumblers pressed against their respective ears and the wall. ‘Great!’ says Julia triumphantly as they leave the room and walk away, ‘we got away with it, they didn’t even mention us!’ ‘No’ says Alex as they exchange a high-five and follow the coordinator towards the dressing rooms, ‘they didn’t did they!’ Their footsteps slow down and they glance at each other with worried expressions. ‘They didn’t even mention us…….’ They say in hushed union.
In the room on the other side of the conference room Miceal Murphy slowly removes his QVC tumbler from the wall and turns sadly away. ‘They are never going to ask me are they Glenn?’ he says to Mr. Campbell who is sitting at a table studying Men’s Vogue. ‘I’ve told them I’d be happy to wear the TSV’s and I love a jumpsuit’ Miceal says on the verge of tears. Glenn stands up, adjusts his trouser legs so that they sit exactly an inch about his ankle bone and pats Miceal on the shoulder in a comforting manner, ‘Give it time Miceal’ he says kindly, ‘just give it time.’
Ruth’ hoodie. ‘You are tapping the app aren’t you?’ Ruth explodes ‘You have ordered that travesty of a garment for a loved one haven’t you? Admit it!!! Admit it Brad! (snuffly pause) Oh how could you?’ she quietly sobs. Brad nods his head and looks ashamed of himself. ‘Get out!!? says Ruth ‘Get out and go and join Eamon and Maggie in my spacious reception room and watch the re-runs of 'Das Boot' in German with sub-titles. I can’t even bear to look at you!’ There are gasps and sympathetic sounds all round as Brad slopes off to watch the Teutonic telly with husband and dog.
