ALEXANDRA SHULMAN: There’s never an excuse for bottom-slapping, but spare a thought for the many – both men and women – who are naturally and harmlessly tactile
There’s never an excuse for bottom-slapping and unfortunately Stanley Johnson, if he’s guilty as charged, is scarcely the only man on the block who’s indulged in it.
I am not sure what the pleasure is for these guys. Nor does the cute term ‘handsy’ do anything to mitigate the unpleasantness of this habit or unwanted groping of any kind.
But spare a thought for the many – both men and women – who are naturally and harmlessly tactile.
In fact, I am blessed to live with him. He is comfortable with the gestures of his elbow lingering or the arm linking companionably to a friend as he walks down the street. Or did. Now he’s acutely aware of the possibility that such things could be misinterpreted.
Octopus tendencies used to be brushed off – usually literally – by women of my age and older.
We didn’t even think to mention that somebody had put their hand on our thigh – we would just move away as soon as we could. If we did tell a friend about it, most of the time it would be in a kind of ‘what a tragic creep’ way.
I can’t pretend we felt victimised. But times change and it’s no bad thing that the message is now being relayed loud and clear that women don’t love being manhandled.
Yet touch is one of our vital senses – the earliest we experience the moment we are born – and as well as physical attraction, it’s used to show affection and concern. A connection between two people. So there’s something a little scary about how touch is becoming quasi outlawed.
Pictured: Stanley Johnson (father of British Prime Minister Boris Johnson), seen last month in London. Two women have accused Mr Johnson of groping
At a conference the other day, bowls of traffic-light-coloured wristbands greeted delegates with the options of green for ‘OK with hugs and handshakes’, yellow for ‘OK with talking but not touching’ and red for ‘Hi, I am keeping my distance’.
These Covid precautions were, of course, necessary. Interestingly though no one seemed to have been wearing any.
But the combination of so much tactile behaviour being ruled out by this pandemic, alongside the spectre of a casual stroke or pat being misinterpreted, stands us in danger of losing a defining element of our nature – appreciating the touch of another human hand.
My ebike down a steep slope
As I was riding the bright orange Estarli, I felt proud that I chose this method of transportation over my car for picking up groceries from an Italian deli just a few miles away.
Forget post-Covid, it’s a post-COP world now. No good blaming the Chinese for their polluting fossil fuel emissions if we don’t do our own bit. So I thought.
But I realized I had filled my parachute shopping bag with salami, prosciutto, and spicy sausages.
Quick mental analysis to determine if pigs could be as dangerous for the environment as methane producing cows. Is it possible that they are just a high risk for bowel cancer? The new green landscape can be very confusing.
It’s tempting to regard our kettle- boiling habits as small beer in the global scheme of things, but nonetheless there’s an eco elf on the shelf now, sitting there nagging insistently and hard to ignore.
Everyday life is now a game between ladders and snakes. So, using the tumble dryer fewer times a week lands you on a ladder – although when I attempt this our kitchen resembles an old scullery with damp clothes hanging all over the place.
But swapping the electric bike for my car later in the afternoon, because I don’t like cycling in the dark, immediately whizzed me back down the slithery slope.
It is horrible to come home to a dark house, so I make sure that there are energy-saving but warm lights. There are countless other gadgets that are constantly on standby.
Can I get back points by having a quick bath instead of taking my long-standing deep-soak? Someone should create a list listing daily good and bad things so we can all do our own offsets. To justify returning to Rome, how many radiators will I need to shut off and for what duration?
Covid may offer up a holiday feast of fools
Germany has entered a fourth wave in Covid. Austria will soon impose a lockdown, and the Netherlands is now imposing an 8pm curfew in bars and restaurants.
Central London contrasts with this. It is jammed with Christmas shoppers. You can’t get into well-known restaurants for lunch or dinner for many weeks.
I trust that the highly publicized vaccination programme worked. If not, we’re indulging in a feast of fools and I’m one of the chief gluttons.
Abba’s thank you for the tax break
In the 70s Abba was formed. I wasn’t a big fan of either their music nor their bizarre appearance. Now, though, I’m kind of loving their joyful new album and curious to see their avatar performance planned for next year.
It was a surprise to me that the original, over-the-top look they adopted was not an attempt to be different from folky singer-songwriters at the time. They were told that they could get tax relief if they chose to wear zany clothes instead of normal clothing.
So the famous Abba Look was born from parsimony, practicality.
ALEXANDRA SHULMAN: Last week I was intrigued to learn that their original over-the-top style was not a calculated attempt to stand out from the folky singer songwriters of the time: they were advised that if they wore zany costumes (pictured in Brussels, 1974), rather than normal clothes, they could claim them all against tax
Lagerfeld’s lustre has died with him
What a sad sight it is to find the remains of a deceased person’s possessions. As the contents of the five homes of Karl Lagerfeld (who died in 2019) are being readied for auction next month, there’s something about them that is the opposite of the glamorous life he spent so much money on.
An alligator Chanel tote bag, starting price £1,600; a binder scrapbook of press cuttings and invitations, starter price £1,685; a sequin Saint Laurent jacket at £1,700? No one possesses the same level of lustre that they had when he lived.
And including the cardboard cat-scratcher used by his pampered and adored pet Choupette – starting price £8.40 – just seems rather pathetic.