The only designer piece I’ve ever owned came into my life today. Yes ladies and gentlemen, I managed to get my hands on an original, straight off the rack, one of only half a billion ever produced, special edition JPG soft drink cans.
I didn’t quite know what to do with him. I mean it’s designer, it’s high fashion, it’s probably had lunch with Madonna. I wanted it to feel relaxed, comfortable, in familiar surrounds you know? So I chucked Jean Paul in the closet. Stupid idea. Just awkward.
If I’d thought about it properly I would have realised how silly it was, I mean Jean Paul’s probably not been in a closet since the 70’s. So after some wrangling with the door people, I managed to get him a spot on the biggest shelf in the fridge. It wasn’t easy. The damn Feta nearly ruined it all by refusing to be parted from the Halloumi.It said it was degrading for the Halloumi to be put back on the shelf once it had reached door status. Bloody elitist salty cheeses!
But it all went wrong there too. The half finished cream confided in me that no matter how nice he tries to be, Jean Paul is just intimidating. He somehow makes the other fridge lodgers feel like supermarket trash, except maybe the cucumber, which is after all the food equivalent of a super model; long, thin and only a couple of calories.
I don’t know what I was thinking… me… designer labels?? Pfffft, no, even my food revolts from being fashionable. Pity though. I can see designer food really taking off and some Prada popcorn would have gone really well with that coke. Then again that would be too easy. If you slapped some poo in a pretty tin and put a designer label on it, millions would buy it and lather it on themselves without a second thought. Faeces for your facies???
But I must give Jean Paul his due. Even if he didn’t cut it in my frigidaire, he did once say “it’s always the badly dressed people who are the most interesting.” You’re alright in my book JPG. You’re alllllll right.