Sofa so good....

Are sofas the markers of our life?

I'm changing my sofas (after 8 long years): I'm feeling oddly sentimental.

Sofas are the backdrop to our lives. They reflect our aspirations, the semiotic and social codes that we wish to portray about (and to?) ourselves; they announce who we are to everyone who sits or lies on them, everyone who sees them, everyone who visits our home....

Are you a white crisp Italian leather kinda guy? Or a more flouncy, pillowey type? Are you a stolid, durable brown leather - the kind that sits quietly forever in the corner of a pub, or are you a more assertive, more visual and less kinaesthetic presence? Are you retro, euro-luxe, forgettable English beige, shiny or matt, squidgey or firm, flaccid or stiff? Are you monotone or multi-patterned? Bright or austere? Are you extravagant or prudent? Sensible or outre? Are you Selfridges or Ikea? Are you Harrods or DFS?

Sofas represent memories: My sofas and I have shared shags, curries, breakups, bereavements, quiet nights in, loud parties; I've cuddled, fucked, been fucked, eaten, drunk, slept, cried, laughed, worried and celebrated on my sofas. They've charted my changing musical tastes from early House through World Music and back again through Old School via high camp. They were born in Italy, were adopted in Ireland and now find their home in London. Like me, they've travelled a long way in 8 years.

They've changed.

They are more worn. They've lost some of their bounce. My new sofas are less pillowey, less soft, less forgiving, less comfortable and kind than the old ones. They are more urban. More London. Less me..... ?

I've changed.

Are my new, pristine, sharp-edged and sharp-attitude sofas my Dorian Grey picture in the attic? Are they the facelift I'm afraid to have myself? By ditching the old sofas via e.bay am I selling my memories, my texture, my soul to the highest bidder? In my drive to disguise the softer, more provincial and flouncier me am I in danger of losing myself along with the 'Dijon' loose cushion extravaganza that I've nested in?

Or am I just a sentimental old Queen intimidated to be given a new throne after all these years?

Well here we go: the first posting of the Pudding Diaries.

So what's the idea? Record of my life? A place to rant? A 'space' for the innocent musings of an international brand guru? (I use the word 'guru' loosely). All of these maybe.

The pics? This is ME! I'm the one on the right. My lovely boyfriend is the one on the left. We don't normally look this pretentious - the pic is from my 40th birthday party a few weeks ago.

There's 'yella' and there's 'yella'

Ahh...the life of an international marketing guru....being fabulous on a global scale......

Picture the scene:

We open in a concrete, low-lying building, sandwiched between Wendy's Burgers and the Pay Less Shoe Warehouse, in a light industrial complex just off Junction 14B of the Billy Graham Parkway (peace be upon him); we are 20 miles outside Charlotte, North Carolina.

Puds (for it is he) has just been told by Doretta, the receptionist at the '20/20 Research Center' that he is 'just like Elton John'. This has gone down well.

Our intrepid guru has travelled several thousand miles for this moment: he is here to 'facilitate' the good folk of North Carolina in their deliberations on the relative merits of various yellow label options for a well-known brand of Ice Tea. This, clearly, is VERY IMPORTANT INDEED.

There is an air of anticipation. The stakes are high..... Clients in Paris and Miami are watching the group by live webcast....

Doretta brings in our 'health conscious and articulate' focus group respondents. These consist of

-Jetta (I kid you not) who has recently lost 140 pounds, thereby giving her the right to squeeze into a sleeveless top that would be tight on Victoria Beckham. Jetta needs a full body lift. Urgently.
-A morbidly obese gentleman who has to be helped into the room on two sticks. He is currently 'cutting down' on fried food and sugar, but prefers Ice Tea in the 2 pint size, although these don't fit the cup holder in his car, so he has to balance the bottle 'between his thighs' when driving. This doesn't bear too much detailed consideration.
-Antoine, a very attractive and fit black lad, who goes to the gym every day, but who can't read or write (a difficulty when looking at label designs). Antoine thinks it would be a good idea for our tea client if they were to concentrate their marketing efforts on iced tea in the summer months and hot tea in the winter. (The group agrees that this is an excellent insight).
-A grade school teacher with a monstrous carbunkle on the back of his head which looks as if it could burst at any moment.
-A Forrest Gump look and soundalike with a defect of the jaw, cross-eyes and an odd ability to roll said eyes in opposite directions in his head whilst rocking back and forth in his chair.....

The group begins....
Our hero shows the first design.....

Forrest Gump (for it is he)
"Well......"
(the group waits. And waits. And waits........)

"Well......."
(more waiting, eye rolling, chair rocking....anticipation all round..... People in Paris and Miami are on the edge of their seats.

"Well it seems to me that this here design looks yellow"

Puds: Indeed, you might say that: what do you feel about that?

"Well......it seems to me that there is yella. And then there's yella. And thissy here thang......well it seems yella.....REAL yella.....you know what I'm sayin?"

Puds: I think I see where you are coming from......so how do you feel about that? What do you make of it?"

"Well.....it's yella, aint it?"

Puds: "and so.....?"

"Well it seems to me that when you are talkin yella, there's yella and there's yella. That's all. And this is yella"

Puds: "You mean it's a particular KIND of yellow, that, maybe you have particular feelings about?"

"Lookie here....I'm just sayin it's yella! You get me? Yella! Like all over yella. Right down in there yella. Just yella. Know what I mean?"

Group: in unison....
"Sure is"
"Uh-huh"
"You got a point there"
"Rightly so....this is rightly yella"
"That's a real good point....I was just thinkin that myself. Yella. It sure is"

Puds: And this gives you all what impression, exactly?

Jetta: "Well...... I don't know about impressions. I was just thinkin......that well, if it's yella, there's those people who might think this yella thing......that it's real bright...."

Group: in unison....
"Bright, sure is"
"Bright yella. That's what it is"
"Yeah......real bright yella....that's what it is....."
"Rightly so. Yella. And bright. For sure"

Later, Puds dragged himself away from his 'health conscious and articulate' folks having uncovered some VERY IMPORTANT insights for his glamorous international clients, and returned (at a great and glamorous turn of speed) along the Billy Graham Parkway (may peace be upon him) to the comfort of his 'Heavenly Bed' (Trademark of the Westin Corporation, all rights reserved).

Puds can say "take me to the Westin" in a number of languages and in several dialects of English.

Yellow used to be his favourite colour.