Present Time

I had been ignoring the fact that Christmas is fast approaching – turning down the radio when I heard a sleigh bell-type intro, skipping past festive ads in the newspaper – but hey it’s less than a month away so I may as well as embrace it and turn up the Shakin’ Stevens, prepare the pudding and make my Christmas present list. These are presents that I want; I couldn’t really be bothered making out a boring list of gifts that other people might want. I am, as yet, unsure as to who is going to supply these little pressies. Santa, perhaps.

Luxury PJs
OK first off I need some cashmere pyjamas. I know this seems really ridiculously extravagant but I seriously can’t sleep in anything but cashmere. I have never been a fan of normal pyjamas – why would I want to wear uncomfortable, ill-fitting trousers to bed? Not to mention the silly buttons that dig into you every time you turn over. I can only sleep in a grey cashmere jumper that I got in TK Maxx but it has started to look a little worn so I think that some new, more attractive nighttime attire is called for. Thanks.

Hermes Leica Camera
Since my camera broke I’ve been taking photos on my iPhone, which is very good when there is enough light, but it is not satisfactory in other conditions so I’ve decided that I’m going to need a proper camera. I don’t want just any old thing plucked from the pages of the Argos catalogue; I want a Hermes Leica camera. Behold its beauty.



Erdem for Smythson Notebook
I always judge people by their notebooks. Yes I realise that’s silly but I’m not really mean about it. Like I don’t write off a person just because they’re doodling in a battered old copybook and I’m not immediately drawn to those taking notes in a leather-bound journal. The Erdem for Smythson notebooks scream ‘spoiled brat’ but I still want one because they’re very, very pretty.

Micro Pig
Emine Saner’s piece in the Guardian totally confirmed that I have to get my hands on one or two (they need company) of these. Apparently they smell like digestive biscuits and sleep curled up under your arm. Come on, how could you not want one? My other The Portmanteau half though is totally against the idea of getting a couple of pigs for the flat, claiming that we don’t have a garden (this is actually true but whatevs) and that she doesn’t like animals. Hmm.



A Private Concert from John and Edward
I’m pretty much devastated that Jedward are no longer in the X Factor. Our next phone bill is going to be so depressing – about 50 quid’s worth of late night calls to Jedward. Ugh. But at least there is a silver lining: the boys are now available for personal appearances and I’m hoping some Father Christmas-type figure will send them round to the Holland Park mansion to serenade me. They must “perform” Ghostbusters, Oops and Under Pressure/Ice Ice Baby and I'd really like it if they could recreate the hilarious introduction that preceded all their X Factor performances.



Merci Beaucoup.