Almerinda
Registered Shopper
Jackie and Ruth are sitting in the QVC canteen having a post TSV lemonade liberally spiked with something stronger which Ruth produced from a lock and lock container hidden in one of the many pockets of her hero tote. ‘Well’ says Ruth ‘that went very well didn’t it? How many thousands of those tank tops did we sell Jackie?’. ‘They are vests Ruth, vests’ Jackie replied curtly ‘tank tops are what your nan knitted for you in the 70’s. BUT, in answer to your question we sold many thousands of them which surprises me as both you and Jilly looked a bit lumpy in them. Didn’t you think that the thin ‘fabrication’ grabbed a bit around the tum tum? I also noticed that the neckline on one of them was a bit waffly and cheap looking’. Jackie loves her celebrity friend but is still a bit peeved about Ruth’s lack of appreciation for her side-splitting jokes. Ruth cringes a bit and says ‘Yeees I noticed that on Sara too but hopefully the star-struck customers will have missed it. What on earth are we going to do about all the spare knitted sleeves we had to lop off though? There must be loads of them hanging around in that factory in China. I might have to design another patchwork jumper to use them up’. ‘Maybe they can be incorporated into the next Danni Minogue petite offering’ muses Jackie, ‘bearing in mind that the sleeves on your original design were all too short. We got away with the cargo trousers by passing them off as ‘ankle length’ she snorts ‘but sleeves are a different matter unless you go for three-quarter length ones.’. Jackie is very well aware that Ms. Minogue is a bit of a sore point with Ruth but Ruth, being a true pro and used to catty co-workers, doesn’t bite. She just grits her teeth and tries to focus on her considerable achievements. She seems to have gotten rid of Brenda Edwards as there are only 33 items of the BE range on the website and they are all in clearance! In fact, there are still a few of those hideous TSV jumpsuits kicking around after nearly 2 years! How foolish she was to have been worried. Still, Danni niggles her, what with her popular denim range and her honey lit dressing room in Australia. Thank goodness she doesn’t make many personal appearances in the studio, that at least is a plus. It’s hard to compete with the pocket size songstress with her flowing locks and pert figure, she is going to be a much harder nut to crack than Bren. Ben di Lisi is also a bit of an issue though she is a little less resentful of him as he is a ‘real’ designer. Apparently. Ruth smiles as she thinks about her successful footwear range; those ankle boots have been a real earner for her whilst the sizing of Ben’s footwear has caused countless issues with the presenters getting more and more confused about how to cover up the mistake without making it look like one. She smiles smugly as she thinks about Ben’s truly hideous pointy toed, block-heeled, suede ankle boots with a bit of rusty motorbike chain randomly attached across the front. Cripes they were beyond awful, and the poor models are still being forced to keep trotting out in them along with those pink, plaited, two-strap sandals from Dune or Moda. She can still hear the various presenters struggling to flog those canvas espadrilles of Ben’s. ‘If you are a size 4 go up a size, if you are a size 6 with bunions and a hammer toe, go up two sizes. If you have more than one hammer toe and are size 9, just choose something else as we don’t have a size 10 and they would look terrible anyway’. Oh my gosh (as Jill Franks would say) it was hilarious. Ben’s dress sense is a bit odd too she thinks, but hey, not everyone has Glen Campbell’s style. Or Mr. Murphy’s for that matter. Dapper personified the pair of them she thinks. She sips her G and T and wonders what she can think up for her next TSV and how she can use up those sleeves. Jackie is also in a reflective frame of mind – where on earth can she find a few more chicken jokes in time for Thursday’s leisure wear show……
Catherine Huntley sits on a table at the other end of the canteen where she can see her recently reduced form reflected in the sliding glass canteen doors. She is very pleased with her figure which has gone from frankly frumpy to effing fabulous. She sits and reads with satisfaction the cheeky comments made by adoring fans on her social media platforms; some of them are bit near to the bone she smirks, but that’s the price one has to pay for being so popular with the chaps. She flips her mermaid hair out of her soup and watches the reflection of her ample bosom bouncing gently in the subdued afternoon light. Thank goodness the weight loss hasn’t affected these puppies she thinks, resisting the temptation to run her hands over them and tweak the nipples. She is a bit sorry that Patrick reprimanded her the other day after presenting an hour of Skechers together. Sadly, she had been unable to help herself when he innocently suggested that customers should go up a size. She had cheekily replied with something like ‘I always welcome a couple of extra inches as long as it’s comfortable’. Patrick, a true professional and not at all smutty, had carried on as if he hadn’t heard her, but had sent a message afterwards saying that he didn’t appreciate quips of that nature. Her ardent followers had heard though and were making all sorts of offers of comfort. Oh well, she thinks as she gets up and leaves the canteen to go and prepare for a gardening hour; she’ll have to remember not to say anything if there is a bush trimmer on offer.
Jill Franks is in her dressing room thinking about what she might wear for this evening’s TSV. The one-armed acid yellow organza top, the one-armed sequin encrusted baby pink top or the taupe, off the shoulder satin bustier with exaggerated feather trim……..any of them will be perfect with skinny leggings and clumpy boots. 'I am such a fashion icon, the envy of all', she thinks to herself with a self-satisfied sigh. 'Everyone says so'. She carefully arranges her fabulous hair and is thankful that she didn’t have to present the TSV for Ruth’s vest. 'Poor Jilly', Jill thinks, 'she does get lumbered with some howlers. Thank goodness for her and Debbie Flint; neither of them seems to mind what they wear or what they look like. It is a strain having to pretend that you like everything though; that Kipling hour the other day was pure torture. She wouldn’t be seen dead carrying a Kipling bag, even if it was pink, and they do insist on pairing her with guest presenters who have difficult names that she can’t say or even remember. What sort of a name is Alexandria for example? Surely Alexandra is good enough? And Marie Franswaaars, I mean really. Mind you', Jill smiles, 'both of them would forgive her anything because Jill is such fun to work with. I wonder if AlexANDRIA saw me getting my finger stuck in a Kipling pen slot the other day?' Jill muses, 'That would have made her laugh, and no doubt Catherine Huntley would have had a comment to make. What on earth would the customers think if they knew she, Jill I don’t cook Fun Franks was actually a cordon bleu chef, and that her well used, state-of-the-art kitchen was actually sage green. They wouldn’t be surprised to hear that she did a bit of stand-up on the side as they are all aware that she is hilarious and great fun to be with. Isn’t she? Surely that rumor about her being the least requested presenter to be with isn’t true…surely, it’s got to be Chloe Everton. Chloe isn't remotely amusing and definitely isn’t a style icon'. Jills pulls on her leggings and chooses the feather top in taupe. 'Perfection.'
Glen is sitting with Dale and they are both enjoying a Negroni; stirred not shaken as Glen is a purist. Dale runs his sausage fingers through his grey hair and asks, ‘Tell me Glen, it’s been bothering me and Charlie for a while now, why do you say trouser when surely it’s trousers?’ ‘Ah’, Glen says with a rather patronizing sigh ‘when you are a fashionista like me and Ms. Hardy you refer to them as a trouser; being a pleb you just wouldn’t understand.’ Dale nods sagely 'I see what you mean, but why do you say a 'little pump' when referring to footwear, surely it’s a pair and therefore should be ‘little pumps’. Catherine Huntley, who happens to be passing by on her way to the garden set, sniggers into her hand and moves on. ‘Like I said Dale’ says Glen glowing with pride at his recent appearance in a promo for men’s fashion, ‘unless you are a fashion icon like me and Jill ‘Fun’ Franks’ he says with a smirk ’you just wouldn’t get it.’ They both snigger and Dale dabs at the red liquid he has managed to splutter over his shirt.
‘Leg warmers!!’ shouts Ruth (we are back to Ruth and Jackie). ‘What?’ replies Jackie who is still thinking about chicken jokes. ‘We can use the cut off sleeves as leg warmers next winter’, Ruth splutters, ‘I am truly a fashion genius with hair extensions!!’ ‘Good idea’ says Jackie ‘and you can present them with Jill Franks, she loves a leg warmer’. There is a pause. ‘Just joking’ Shouts Jackie laughing heartily ‘about co-presenting with Jill I mean, not the leg warmers’ . ‘Now hold tight and listen to my chicken joke!’
What do you call a chicken who is a prankster?
I don’t know Jacqueline what do you call a chicken who is a prankster?
A practical yolker!
Catherine Huntley sits on a table at the other end of the canteen where she can see her recently reduced form reflected in the sliding glass canteen doors. She is very pleased with her figure which has gone from frankly frumpy to effing fabulous. She sits and reads with satisfaction the cheeky comments made by adoring fans on her social media platforms; some of them are bit near to the bone she smirks, but that’s the price one has to pay for being so popular with the chaps. She flips her mermaid hair out of her soup and watches the reflection of her ample bosom bouncing gently in the subdued afternoon light. Thank goodness the weight loss hasn’t affected these puppies she thinks, resisting the temptation to run her hands over them and tweak the nipples. She is a bit sorry that Patrick reprimanded her the other day after presenting an hour of Skechers together. Sadly, she had been unable to help herself when he innocently suggested that customers should go up a size. She had cheekily replied with something like ‘I always welcome a couple of extra inches as long as it’s comfortable’. Patrick, a true professional and not at all smutty, had carried on as if he hadn’t heard her, but had sent a message afterwards saying that he didn’t appreciate quips of that nature. Her ardent followers had heard though and were making all sorts of offers of comfort. Oh well, she thinks as she gets up and leaves the canteen to go and prepare for a gardening hour; she’ll have to remember not to say anything if there is a bush trimmer on offer.
Jill Franks is in her dressing room thinking about what she might wear for this evening’s TSV. The one-armed acid yellow organza top, the one-armed sequin encrusted baby pink top or the taupe, off the shoulder satin bustier with exaggerated feather trim……..any of them will be perfect with skinny leggings and clumpy boots. 'I am such a fashion icon, the envy of all', she thinks to herself with a self-satisfied sigh. 'Everyone says so'. She carefully arranges her fabulous hair and is thankful that she didn’t have to present the TSV for Ruth’s vest. 'Poor Jilly', Jill thinks, 'she does get lumbered with some howlers. Thank goodness for her and Debbie Flint; neither of them seems to mind what they wear or what they look like. It is a strain having to pretend that you like everything though; that Kipling hour the other day was pure torture. She wouldn’t be seen dead carrying a Kipling bag, even if it was pink, and they do insist on pairing her with guest presenters who have difficult names that she can’t say or even remember. What sort of a name is Alexandria for example? Surely Alexandra is good enough? And Marie Franswaaars, I mean really. Mind you', Jill smiles, 'both of them would forgive her anything because Jill is such fun to work with. I wonder if AlexANDRIA saw me getting my finger stuck in a Kipling pen slot the other day?' Jill muses, 'That would have made her laugh, and no doubt Catherine Huntley would have had a comment to make. What on earth would the customers think if they knew she, Jill I don’t cook Fun Franks was actually a cordon bleu chef, and that her well used, state-of-the-art kitchen was actually sage green. They wouldn’t be surprised to hear that she did a bit of stand-up on the side as they are all aware that she is hilarious and great fun to be with. Isn’t she? Surely that rumor about her being the least requested presenter to be with isn’t true…surely, it’s got to be Chloe Everton. Chloe isn't remotely amusing and definitely isn’t a style icon'. Jills pulls on her leggings and chooses the feather top in taupe. 'Perfection.'
Glen is sitting with Dale and they are both enjoying a Negroni; stirred not shaken as Glen is a purist. Dale runs his sausage fingers through his grey hair and asks, ‘Tell me Glen, it’s been bothering me and Charlie for a while now, why do you say trouser when surely it’s trousers?’ ‘Ah’, Glen says with a rather patronizing sigh ‘when you are a fashionista like me and Ms. Hardy you refer to them as a trouser; being a pleb you just wouldn’t understand.’ Dale nods sagely 'I see what you mean, but why do you say a 'little pump' when referring to footwear, surely it’s a pair and therefore should be ‘little pumps’. Catherine Huntley, who happens to be passing by on her way to the garden set, sniggers into her hand and moves on. ‘Like I said Dale’ says Glen glowing with pride at his recent appearance in a promo for men’s fashion, ‘unless you are a fashion icon like me and Jill ‘Fun’ Franks’ he says with a smirk ’you just wouldn’t get it.’ They both snigger and Dale dabs at the red liquid he has managed to splutter over his shirt.
‘Leg warmers!!’ shouts Ruth (we are back to Ruth and Jackie). ‘What?’ replies Jackie who is still thinking about chicken jokes. ‘We can use the cut off sleeves as leg warmers next winter’, Ruth splutters, ‘I am truly a fashion genius with hair extensions!!’ ‘Good idea’ says Jackie ‘and you can present them with Jill Franks, she loves a leg warmer’. There is a pause. ‘Just joking’ Shouts Jackie laughing heartily ‘about co-presenting with Jill I mean, not the leg warmers’ . ‘Now hold tight and listen to my chicken joke!’
What do you call a chicken who is a prankster?
I don’t know Jacqueline what do you call a chicken who is a prankster?
A practical yolker!
