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Blue Dog Jewellery - The perils of online dating

Make a date

Sick of being alone on Valentine's Day, Will Cureton booked a cosy table for two one month before the big day. Now all he has to do is find the perfect woman to accompany him ...

Comments (37)

• Will Cureton
• guardian.co.uk, Thursday 12 February 2009 11.06 GMT
• Article history

The food of love ... a romantic dinner date. Photograph: Philip Gould/Corbis

I am 32 and single. Many of my friends are now married with kids. If I get drunk and venture out I dance like a baboon on hot coals.

"I might be a genetic cul-de-sac", I warned my mother.

'Don't be silly", she reassured me. "You're perfectly normal, darling."

So why did she have that look in her eyes? It was the kind of look she might have had on inspecting the last Christmas tree at the market - all wonky and bare, passed over by so many before ...

I considered internet dating. My friends told me that it is only for insomniacs, alcoholics and those with that sinister 'something of the night' about them.

But surely, in an era when people publish instant relationship status updates on Facebook, it must finally be okay to look for love on the web? I threw down the gauntlet, joined a dating site, and booked a table for two at a south London restaurant for Valentine's Day. Either I will eat there with the lady of my dreams or, goddammit, I will eat there alone.

Give a hair-challenged guy a break

I wrote my profile. This turned out to be a good thing to do on a Monday morning as, in a dry and despairing mood, what I turned out proved to be surprisingly popular. When I later checked in online, I found I had been propelled to the dizzy heights of virtual notoriety. Despite my photo - plaintively tagged 'Can someone please Photoshop my hair?' - I was number eight on the list of the 'Top 20 Most Popular' lonely blokes.

I scrutinised photos and profiles, waiting impatiently to see if the women I'd marked as 'favourites' would reciprocate the interest. Amid the flattering array of fans - 193! - I had amassed, most seemed reassuringly normal. I say most, because one girl was asking for a man to bring her bleeding meat as she lounged about in a red satin negligee.

I plucked up the courage to arrange a few dates with some potential soulmates (optimism can't hurt, right?).

Date 1: MI5 agent

It suddenly struck me that I wasn't going to recognise my date. I found myself grinning inanely at all unaccompanied women emerging from the tube station. People thought I was weird and I started to feel uncomfortable. To distract myself, I imagined that I was a character in Spooks meeting Lady X - some beautiful undercover Russian double agent.

This daydream was brought up short by an unfamiliar female saying: 'Are you Will?'

In fairness, I'm about as photogenic as the dark side of the moon. As such, even my 80th profile photo looked little like me. But at least I looked worse than I do in real life. Date one, I discovered, had sneakily taken all five of her profile photos from the same unusual angle. There was a split second when, neck craned, peering up at me from the corner of her eyes, she did look a little like her photos. But I just didn't fancy her and later it was more than a little uncomfortable to say goodbye without arranging another date.

Date 2: Horrifically awkward

She turned up twenty minutes late, made no reference to this at all, and registered visible disappointment on seeing me. She then picked the nearest bar to the station, presumably prior to making a swift exit. The place was utterly rammed and so deafening that our first words had to be positively roared into each other's faces. I bought drinks and tried to make the best of it but after a while she was making no eye contact at all and then actually leaned across the bar away from me. I could only assume she was ordering another drink, so I waited quietly for some minutes. "Are you buying a drink?" I eventually asked. "No", she said bluntly. It seemed the date was over.

Date 3: Double header

She didn't fancy me and I didn't fancy her. She did look like her photograph, though this was a bit unfortunate as she billed herself as highly un-photogenic and vastly better looking in real life. Perhaps she's more of a speed-dater: we sped through the obligatory two drinks and she was off. I couldn't exactly blame her for this. There was about as much complex chemistry in the room as in a primary school science lesson. It's weird to discover that some people are searching only for that elusive 'spark'; if it's not there immediately they have no qualms about heading for the exit.

Date 4: Better

This one lasted longer and we had a fairly good chat. She works with children, though, and spoke to everyone in the park - myself, her dog, other people's dogs, their owners - as if they were children too. Unusual. We called time simultaneously, but I was left with a faint glimmer of hope that there may be someone out there for me.

Date 5: Better still

We talked for hours about the Ukrainian diaspora and folk print dresses. I would have liked to see her again. The next morning a text arrived: 'You're a really special guy but I am still crazily looking for that special spark.' I was invited to get in touch if I'm ever in east London. I resolved to do so, if only so she can buy all the drinks this time.

Perhaps I'm not an 'immediate spark' type of bloke, but better enjoyed over a three-course meal with wine. Nevertheless, I met several new women, and even if at times it was a little awkward, it was still better than staying home and watching 'Come Dine with Me' with just a takeaway korma for company.

I have one more date planned before the big day, and I've not given up hope - this is the season of romance, after all. And besides, how bad can it be eating out on Valentine's Day at a table for one?

Posted by Shona Lockhart, 14th February 2009

www.bluedogjewellery.com

Blue Dog Jewellery - Somebody loves you, or do they?

The heart will go on. And on

If being single feels bleak, pity the couples who go through the Valentine's motions year after year

Comments (49)

• 
• • Ariane Sherine
  • The Guardian, Saturday 14 February 2009
  • Article history

For single people, today isn't Valentine's Day: it's Nobody Loves You Day. Over this 24 hours, every couple in the entire world will slurp at each other, limbs entwined like tagliatelle, as all singles lurk around a dusty, unmolested letterbox, poised to pounce on any bill that looks even vaguely red or card-like, before trampling it to shreds in a fit of disappointment.

While Sinatra sang Saturday Night (Is the Loneliest Night of the Week), the fact that this year it coincides with Valentine's renders it potentially the loneliest night in five years, and certainly the most housebound: to step outside would be to encounter proof that even the 87-year-old man down the road is enjoying more romantic action than you. Far better to stay in and pretend other people don't exist, even if the ardent noises permeating the walls of your home would suggest otherwise.

Of course, there are consolations: today, if you're single, you won't feel obliged to feign interest in flowers limper than a dead monkey's handshake. Nor will you have to smile approvingly at hearts shaped like pointy upside-down arses; and you won't have trawled through racks of pastel, dog-eared cards, desperately hoping one will adequately encapsulate your ardour without seeming cloying, indifferent or sinister.

By far the greatest consolation, though, for those of us unencumbered by besotted lovers, is the realisation that Valentine's Day isn't necessarily any less lonely or miserable when you're attached. For every enamoured couple ensconced in a duvet talking in faintly preposterous voices and every pragmatic pair staunchly eschewing today's associations altogether, there are a dozen others whose relationships are buckling under the weight of imposed romantic expectation - and no stage of love is immune.

For fledgling couples, the territory is unknown and the pitfalls apparent: one overly grandiose gesture, premature declaration or hideous stuffed toy could precipitate a cooling period longer than the siege of Troy. However, making no effort whatsoever is potentially worse; your new partner may infer that you're starting as you mean to go on. A greeting card seems a fair compromise, but most say or suggest "I love you", when there's clearly a large gap in the market for "I like you a lot" cards.

Couples who have survived years of February 14ths may be more sanguine, but receiving merely a garden centre voucher and a kiss on the forehead could prompt them to hark back wistfully to those days when they received half the Interflora warehouse on their doorstep, before engaging in such labyrinthine lovemaking that they had to be disentangled by the fire brigade.

And there are those unfortunates for whom Valentine's Day is a gaping pothole on the highway of denial. To do nothing today when they've celebrated joyously in the past would be to acknowledge that the relationship is now deficient, and yet there's no room for ambivalence or the phrase, "I love you, but not in that way". Instead, most feel duty-bound to sit silently in a local restaurant picking at their "Romantic Valentine's Menu - For Lovers!" and glancing over bleakly at luminous couples in the first throes of infatuation.

Compared to these, the straightforward misery of being single today seems almost desirable. It's very possible that the only person who is truly happy on Valentine's Day is the chief executive of Hallmark. But if you still feel bereft, you can perhaps draw a little solace from remembering that there's always somebody worse off: the Saint Valentine of legend (at least in one version) ended his days by being pelted with rocks, clubbed and beheaded. Still, that surely can't hurt more than feeling unloved tonight, and would have been over much faster.

Posted by Shona Lockhart, 14th February 2009

www.bluedogjewellery.com

Blue Dog Jewellery - Is love on the menu?

Please, no love on the menu

Saturday is Valentine's night - the peak time for very public marriage proposals in restaurants. But, as Emine Saner reports, things don't always go according to plan ...

Comments (21)

• 
• • Emine Saner
  • The Guardian, Wednesday 11 February 2009
  • Article history

It sounds like one of those nightmares you might have had. You know the one, where you suddenly find yourself with no clothes on, in a public place with everyone staring at you. A couple of years ago, David Thorneycroft was managing a restaurant in Liverpool's city centre when Valentine's night came around. "A woman was going to propose to her boyfriend and she had arranged everything in advance with us," he says. This wasn't going to be a subtle bended knee approach - she was planning to jump out of a giant cake, wearing nothing but lingerie. "She had made sure there was somewhere to hide the cake, we had discussed the layout of the restaurant and made sure we sat him with his back to where she was going to come from."

During the meal, she went off to get changed - or rather, undressed - and Thorneycroft and a waiter wheeled the huge (fake) cake out to his table. In front of 120 diners, to the tune of "their song", she burst out of it as confetti flew everywhere, and asked him to marry her. "He didn't say a word," recalls Thorneycroft. "There was not a speck of emotion on his face. He just got up and walked out. She was standing there, in her underwear, in this giant cake with confetti all around her. It was just awful. For a few seconds, nobody knew what to do." They got her out of the room so she could get dressed. "The atmosphere in the restaurant was quite subdued after that," says Thorneycroft. "You should only propose somewhere so public if you're 100% positive the person is going to say yes," he says, adding, "though she was sure he'd say yes."

Valentine's night is the busiest shift of the year for restaurants and some people clearly love the attention of a very public proposal in front of a packed restaurant, says Josie Stead, manager of the Gallery restaurant at Sketch in London. Others, she says, "do it quietly and privately at their table." Either way, she is always surprised at how people go about it. "One man came in during the day and gave us the ring to look after until he brought his partner in that night. Later, we found out it was worth £80,000. Thankfully nothing happened to it but it was very trusting of him. We have also been asked to put rings in desserts or glasses of champagne. That always makes me nervous."

James Robson, managing director of Mews of Mayfair, has witnessed several marriage proposals that have gone wrong over the years, including one when a City banker wanted to put a large diamond in his girlfriend's glass of champagne, before he asked her to marry him. "The maitre d' and I warned him this wasn't a very good idea, but he was determined," says Robson. "Unfortunately, the woman had already had a few cocktails and she didn't notice the diamond in her glass and swallowed it. The man went bright red, grabbed his girlfriend, and made a swift exit, knocking over the table as he went. He didn't even pay his bill." He adds, "I don't know if they ever retrieved the diamond."

The restaurant at Stoke Park country club in Buckinghamshire is another popular spot for proposals. The executive chef Chris Wheeler remembers one heart-stopping (in a bad way) episode a couple of years ago. A man had given his girlfriend two dozen red roses and she had asked the restaurant to put them in the fridge to keep them fresh while they had dinner. "We had other flowers in the fridge to give out to customers as part of our Valentine's night package," says Wheeler. The doorman mistook the woman's flowers for the restaurant's flowers he was supposed to be giving out, and gave a rose to 24 other couples as they were leaving. "When we realised, we wrapped up some more flowers really nicely, apologised profusely and gave them to the woman," says Wheeler. The man went "ballistic." "He had hooped a diamond ring on one of the roses and we had given it away to another customer." They had to phone everyone who had been given a rose and, luckily, one of them brought the ring back. While the proposal had gone horribly wrong, there is a happy ending. "The couple had their wedding here and they're regular customers," says Wheeler.

Most of the marriage proposals at the OXO restaurant in London have been successful - one man had a huge banner unfurled from the top of the building on the opposite side of the river Thames reading 'Will you marry me?' - but it's the ones which weren't which lodge in the mind for longer, says the brasserie manager Sian Cox. On one Valentine's night, a woman turned down a proposal and her boyfriend stormed out; another man in the restaurant, whose girlfriend had suddenly left him too, went to sit with her to commiserate. Which made things awkward when her boyfriend returned 10 minutes later to apologise.

"We often get people asking for 'Will you marry me?' to be written in chocolate on dessert plates," says Cox. "One woman who received one panicked and ran off to the loo. On her way she stopped a waiter and asked us to send her boyfriend one back reading 'Not a hope in hell'." Remarkably accommodating, the restaurant agreed to do it, though they said it might be better - and safer for the poor waiter, perhaps - if she delivered it herself. "Luckily, he thought it was very funny," says Cox. "She just said she wasn't ready to get married. I think they stayed together."

Posted by Shona Lockhart, 14th February 2009

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Blue Dog Jewellery - Valentine's Day Loulou investigates how famous power couples met

It must be love

A friend of Carla Bruni and Nicolas Sarkozy has published an account of their first meeting, as Tim Dowling explains below. And, he imagines the moment some other famous power couples met ...

• 
• • Tim Dowling
  • The Guardian, Friday 13 February 2009
  • Article history

French President Nicolas Sarkozy goes in for a snog with his wife Carla Bruni. Photograph: Eric Feferberg/AFP/Getty Images

When Nicolas Sarkozy met Carla Bruni for the first time at a dinner party in November 2007, their host, Jacques Séguéla, described the encounter as an "unexpected game of seduction between two wild beasts". He also, apparently, took notes, which is how we know that when Bruni told the recently divorced French president that she knew about his reputation for womanising, Sarkozy replied: "My reputation is no worse than yours. I know you well without ever meeting you. I understand everything about you . . . You make love because no one makes love to you. I know everything about you because I am so much you."

For some unexplained reason Bruni missed the opportunity to switch seats at that point, but everyone else at the table stopped talking. Sarkozy went on: "We will announce our engagement. You will see, we will do better than Marilyn and Kennedy," he said, citing a relationship not often used as a benchmark for success. How hard do you have to try to do better than Marilyn and Kennedy?

"Engagement? Never!" replied Bruni. "From now on, I will only live with a man who gives me a child."

To this, Sarkozy said: "I have already brought up five. Why not six?"

At some point in the conversation, Sarkozy raised a few potential difficulties, including the effect of the paparazzi on their relationship. "When it comes to the celebrity press, you are an amateur," said Bruni. "My encounter with Mick [Jagger] stayed secret for eight years. We passed through all the capitals of the world and no photographer ever caught us."

"How could you have stayed eight years with a man who has such ridiculous calves?" said Sarkozy. Who thinks the most ridiculous thing about Mick Jagger is his calves?

So far, so excruciating. But then Sarkozy apparently leaned over and whispered in her ear: "Bet you don't have the nerve right now in front of everyone to kiss me on the mouth." Perhaps this sounds better in French. Bruni made no reply. He asked her to spend Christmas with him. She said no. Then, for reasons that are not at all clear from this exchange, they got married seven weeks later. Go figure.

Tony and Cherie Blair (The library, Lincoln's Inn, c1976)

Tony and Cherie Blair in an emotional embrace while celebrating the 2001 general election victory. Photograph: Simon Walker/ Rex Features

Enter Tony Blair, carrying guitar, humming Dreamer by Supertramp.

TB: Hi there.

Cherie Booth (glancing up from her book): Hmm.

TB: Whatcha reading?

CB: The Law Relating to Estoppel by Representation.

TB: Representation, yeah. I've read all his stuff.

CB: I should really be ...

TB: Hey, check this out (plays guitar riff from Lido Shuffle by Boz Scaggs).

CB: I don't think you're allowed to do that in here.

TB: Who cares? Doing what's not allowed is what I'm all about.

CB: It's just that I'm right in the middle of ...

TB: Hey listen, Cherie. I'm a pretty straight kind of a guy, ask anyone. Actually, don't ask just anyone - I'll give you a list of people to ask. What I'm trying to say is, when my gut tells me something is right, then I know it's pretty right, and I'm thinking that you and me are pretty right for each other. So what do you say? You wanna come over to my place later, maybe listen to some Hall & Oates?

CB: Sorry, but who are you? Do you work here or something?

Bill and Hillary Clinton (A crowded cafeteria at Yale Law School, Spring 1971)

The Clintons share a loving look. Photograph: Robyn Beck/AFP/Getty Images

Hillary Rodham, carrying a bowl of cottage cheese, passes a table where Bill Clinton is seated.

BC: Hey, I like your glasses.

HR: (flustered, but quickly regaining her composure) Thank you. Nice boots.

BC: Why don't you join me? What's your name?

HR: (taking an empty seat across from him) Hillary.

BC: I'm Bill.

HR: And who is she?

BC: Who?

HR: The girl sitting in your lap.

BC: Oh! Sorry. This is Mindy. Mindy is ... Mindy, what is it you're studying again? Remind me.

Mindy: I work at the dry cleaner's.

BC: That's right.

HC: How long have you two known each other?

Mindy: I'm not sure. What time is it now?

BC: So what is it that you do, Hillary?

HC: Researching childhood brain development, volunteering legal services to the poor, working on the Senate subcommittee on migratory labour. You?

BC: Oh, I've just been to Oxford - organising anti-war demonstrations, playing rugby, pretending to smoke pot. Stuff.

HC: Let me be frank with you, Bill. I find you strangely sexually alluring, but also boring and a little bit irritating.

BC: Oh my God! I was gonna say the same thing! Do you believe in fate, Hillary?

HR: I don't ... I don't know

BC: Let me tell you what I think. I think something very special is happening right here. I think you and I were destined to be together, for all time.

Mindy: I gotta go, my break is almost up. Your shirts will be ready at five.

BC: See you then, darlin' (winks).

Gordon and Sarah Brown (A plane travelling to Scotland in 1994)

Gordon and Sarah Brown pucker up on their wedding day. Photograph: Dan Chung/Reuters

Gordon Brown, the shadow chancellor, sits beside Sarah Macaulay, a partner in a PR firm.

GB: ... but the endogenous growth theory overcomes this by building macroeconomic models from macroeconomic foundations ...

SM: That's a very nice tie. It brings out the red in your eyes.

GB: ... even if we assume a constant marginal product of capital at the aggregate level, or let's say that the limit of that marginal product does not tend toward zero. It is possible, therefore, to construct an endogenous growth model in which a relaxed assumption of competition ...

SM: It's funny how we've known so many of the same people for years, but we've never really talked before.

GB: ... the benefits over the Solow or neo-classical model - the exogenous model, if you will - are obvious, in that we are able to explain both the savings rate and the rate of technological progress, thereby affording us ...

SM: I guess you don't really know anybody until you sit next to them on a plane!

GB: ... a way to account for spillover effects, for increases in the quality and quantity of goods, for emerging technologies, the vagaries of human capital, all within ...

SM: Oh, look! The sun is setting. Isn't it beautiful?

GB: ... and if I might posit an example here featuring two sectors, R&D, and the producers of final output, we see how any monopoly profits are dissipated by spending.

SM: Huh. Are you going to eat your bread roll?

GB: Almost certainly.

Barack and Michelle Obama (A table for two in a Chicago restaurant. The year is 1989)

Barack and Michelle Obama smooch on election night. Photograph: Jae C. Hong/AP

Michelle Robinson, a lawyer, is sitting with Barack Obama, a first-year law student and summer intern at her law firm, whom she is mentoring.

MR: I wouldn't worry about it. My middle name is LeVaughn, for chrissakes.

BO: That's a very beautiful name.

MR: Yeah, so anyway, we've gone through your duties, the hours, the ID badge. Anything else?

BO: No, that's great (lights fag).

MR: I don't think we can smoke in here.

BO: Yes we can.

MR: Whatever. Can we just order?

BO: Yes we can.

MR: Fine.

BO: Can I have the lobster?

MR: No you can't.

Posted by Shona Lockhart, 14th February 2009

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Blue Dog Jewellery - Loulou's Valentine's Day Tip - have an ethical Valentine's Day

Pure ethical gold

Want to please your green warrior girlfriend on Valentine's Day? There may be an answer: responsibly sourced gold

Comments (5)

• 
• • Timothy Sowula
  • guardian.co.uk, Saturday 14 February 2009 09.00 GMT
  • Article history

Why is it that however "latest-minute" your lady-friend professes to be, when Valentine's trudges round again, she still wants the kind of romantic gift that would have been more suited to the last century? It's all flowers, chocolates and candlelight, and because she's a daughter of Greenham Common or an ascetic climate change warrior, you'll be pulling your hair out to find organic roses lovingly grown in the allotment round the corner. Or carbon-neutral fairtrade chocolates or locally produced champagne full of "friendly" bacteria.

Christmas is fine, but 10 weeks later an African goat or offsetting sapling suddenly won't do.

But at least, if I make the effort, just about everything I need to please on Valentine's Day can be fairtrade, organic, and if you're really lucky, made just down the road.

Everything, that is, except gold.

Suffice it to say that it's not often I turn to bling to prove my affection, but now that Woolworths has closed, I'm stuck for options. Although none of us are feeling flush at present, there is something reassuring about spending money on something that will last – something solid and significant.

But the problem is that at the moment, it is impossible to know whether gold jewellery in the UK has been produced through terrible treatment of people and the environment in the developing world. I happen to work for the aid agency Cafod and we support local organisations and communities who are calling for responsible mining practices.

Last year Cafod toured England and Wales with a photo exhibition of gold mining and its effects on communities in countries like the Democratic Republic of the Congo, the Philippines and Honduras as part of our Unearth Justice campaign. While gold is so obviously a vital resource for many countries, so few of those in the developing world seem to reap financial or social benefits. For example, the exhibition showed how parts of east Congo, despite the country having one of the richest goldfields in the world, have shockingly poor medical and education facilities for the local community.

Some of the exhibition's pictures of small-scale mining in Congo look like scenes from Hieronymus Bosch, with adults and children scouring the darkened, scarred land for tiny nuggets. And in Honduras and the Philippines people who live above rich gold seams tell horrendous stories of how they have been affected by mining: families forced from their homes, protestors beaten by mine security guards and domestic water sources polluted with toxic heavy metals.

They say that the best Valentine's gifts come in small packages, but with this trail of destruction, a piece of gold jewellery can be weighed down by its hefty negative impact on both humans and the planet.

So what is a boyfriend to do? Well, all is not lost. The gold industry says the gold supply chain is impossible to police. With raw, unprocessed gold from different countries travelling to one of only a handful of melting plants, there is no way anyone can tell where gold from a well-regulated mine stops and bad gold starts. But there are a few companies in the UK who are trying their hardest to create and maintain an ethical and traceable supply chain.

Greg Valerio of Cred Jewellery is a champion and pioneer of ethical gold. By teaming up with the Alliance for Responsible Mining, which works directly with small-scale miners in Latin America, certified miners collect batches of raw gold which are then transported and melted at the plant separately from any other gold. Although expensive, no mixing ensures a fully traceable supply chain where only gold from mines with good human and environmental rights records end up in the jewellery you buy.

So now the UK can offer ethical gold, there are no excuses this Saturday. With a guiltless set of "vintage" gifts I shall sweep my girlfriend off her feet, knowing the gold jewellery I have bought is not tarnished by suffering or environmental damage.

Unless of course Woolies gets saved and I can buy the electric coffee whisk she [I've] always wanted...

Posted by Shona Lockhart, 14th February 2009

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Blue Dog Jewellery - Loulou's Valentine's Day tips - great places to eat in Venice

Ten top budget eats in Venice

One of the biggest challenges of the Venice carnival is finding somewhere reasonable to eat. Luckily, John Brunton knows his way around the city's osterie, tavernas and trattorias

Comments (13)

• John Brunton
• guardian.co.uk, Wednesday 21 January 2009 11.25 GMT
• Article history

Da Luca e Fred ... just 80 cents for a glass of house wine and tasty food to suit tight budgets. Photograph: John Brunton

Finding good, reasonably-priced restaurants in the Serenisssima is never easy at any time of the year, and prices tend to soar during carnival (13-24 February). But believe it or not, there are still locales where you can have a meal for less than €15 (£14) - as long as you follow a few golden rules. Have your main meal at lunchtime when prices are much lower, then bar hop at night eating snacks. Arrive for lunch at midday sharp, as this is when the day's pasta is served and portions never last long. Ask if "coperto" (cover), and "servizio", service charge are included, and be sure to know how much everything costs if you decide to order extras like bottled water, coffee and a carafe of wine.

1. Arte della Pizza

There are a host of takeaway pizza joints around Venice, but at most the food is average, if not lousy. Arte della Pizza is the big exception - an immensely popular hole-in-the-wall address hidden away off the Strada Nova, the main drag that runs from the train station to Rialto. There are half a dozen stools and the place is always packed to bursting, not surprising when a whopping pizza costs around €6 and a big slice only €1.50. Remember though that they close early at 9pm.

• Calle dell'Aseo, 1896 Cannaregio,                +39 (0)41 524 6520        , closed Monday

2. Taverna del Campiello Remer

This rustic taverna has a fantastic courtyard looking over the Grand Canal, and is absolutely the real deal for cheap eats, as long as you time your visit to perfection. The happy hour aperitivo runs from 5.30pm to 7.30pm, and although drinks seem expensive at €4, you have to see the mega buffet that is served at the same time - huge plates of smoked ham, salami, salads and either a steaming risotto or pasta. At lunch you have to shell out €20, but be prepared for an all-you-can-eat feast - soup, choice of pastas, vegetables, two or three main dishes, desserts and wine, all included.

• Campiello del Remer, 5701 Cannaregio,                +3...       , closed Wednesday

3. Al Muro

Definitely the place to come at Saturday lunchtime. The Rialto fish market is where all of Venice comes to do its weekend shopping, and although there are dozens of bars to choose from for a drink, the favourite spot to eat is the trendy Muro. The chef sets up a stall in the middle of the Campo and the genial Carlo and Davide serve up heaped plates of the dish of the day, which could be a delicious fritto misto, wild mushroom risotto or tasty goulash, priced at €7-10 with a glass of wine included.

• Campo Bella Vienna, 222 San Polo, closed Sunday lunchtime

4. Bacaro Lounge

The biggest challenge of Venice's carnival has to be finding somewhere reasonably-priced to eat around the Piazza San Marco, where every restaurant is intent on cashing in on tourists as much as possible. A surprising secret is the trendy bar/restaurant Bacaro Lounge, set in an old cinema and owned by the Benetton family. At the bar, you'll see a chic fashion crowd wearing Prada and Gucci, but also rough and ready gondoliers who come here at noon for the "piatto del giorno" - anything from spaghetti with pomodoro or roast pork - priced at €10.

• Salizzada San Moise, 1345 San Marco, tel;                +3...       , open every day

5. Da Luca e Fred

This old-fashioned osteria is a fun, noisy rendezvous for local Venetians, where a glass of house wine sets you back only 80 cents. A crowd gathers at the bar at midday when the chef sends out plates of the dish of the day that are quickly snapped up, not surprising when the cost is €6. And their "menu turistico" is even more honest - lasagne followed by fritto misto and a salad for €13.50 with no hidden extras like cover charge.

• Rio Tera San Leonardo, 1518 Cannaregio,                +3...       , closed Wednesday

6. Orange

Santa Margherita is the nearest Venice gets to a funky nightlife scene, with a dozen bars serving lethal "spritz al bitter" - Campari cocktails for €2 till the early hours. The hippest locale is the the Orange lounge bar, and from Monday to Wednesday, they have just started a buffet happy hour from 6.30pm-9pm. The price of a Spritz goes up to €3, but there is a big buffet with tramezzini sandwiches, polpette meatballs, a hot dish of pasta, fruits and desserts. A big party is planned for the last night of carnival, Mardi Gras, with an in-house DJ.

• Campo Santa Margherita, 3054 Dorsoduro,                +3...       , open every day.

7. Rosticceria San Bartolomeo

Tucked away under ancient arches just by the bustling San Bartolomeo square, the Rosticceria is basically an old-fashioned self-service cafeteria, dishing up excellent and inexpensive comfort food - a "primo" for €6, followed by roast chicken, or "baccala mantecato", the traditional creamy salt cod. For once, prices are exactly the same at night as for lunch. There is a more formal restaurant upstairs, but there you'll end up paying a cover charge. For visitors renting an apartment, this can be a great address for buying ready-cooked meals (10-20% cheaper for take away).

• Sottoportego della Bissa, 5424/a San Marco,                +3...       , open every day

8. Food & Art

The island of Giudecca has the best views over Venice, and is also a centre for budget travellers. This is where the city's Youth Hostel is located, but it is doubtful if even the most ardent traveller gets to discover the quirky Food & Art. This is officially a "mensa", a canteen, catering for workmen at the Giudecca's boatyards. But anyone is allowed into this friendly self-service locale, which also doubles as an art gallery. Full lunch with wine is priced at €11.50, while a simple pasta costs €5.50

• Corte Cordami, 554 Giudecca,                +3...       , open Monday - Friday, lunchtime only

9. Al Nono Risorto

Although Nono Risorto has a long menu filled with traditional trattoria specialities like spaghetti with black squid ink sauce and grilled Adriatic fish, ordering from this can mean an expensive meal, so what the locals come here for is the pizza. Even in the evenings, a huge pizza smothered with gorgonzola and speck (smoky Tyrolean ham) and "un quarto di vino della casa" costs less than €15. And there is a lovely garden courtyard, which is covered and heated in winter.

• Sottoportego de Siora Bettina, 2337 Santa Croce,                +3...       , closed Wednesday

10. Trattoria Alle Due Gondolette

You'll need a good map to track down this family trattoria, hidden away on a pretty canal in the Cannaregio neighbourhood. Only open for lunch, their brilliant "cucina casalinga" set menu attracts workmen and tourists alike, with an all-in price of €12 for a pasta and hearty second course, wine and coffee, no cover charge. All along this canal you'll come upon honest osterie like Bea Vita (No 3082), Antica Mola (2800) and Al Timon (2754).

• Fondamenta delle Cappuccine, 3016 Cannaregio,                +3...       , closed Saturday, Sunday and every evening

• All photographs by johnbrunton.com

The biggest challenge of Venice's carnival has to be finding somewhere reasonably-priced to eat around the Piazza San Marco, where every restaurant is intent on cashing in on tourists as much as possible. A surprising secret is the trendy bar/restaurant Bacaro Lounge, set in an old cinema and owned by the Benetton family. At the bar, you'll see a chic fashion crowd wearing Prada and Gucci, but also rough and ready gondoliers who come here at noon for the "piatto del giorno" - anything from spaghetti with pomodoro or roast pork - priced at €10.

• Salizzada San Moise, 1345 San Marco, tel;                +39 (0)41 296 0687        , open every day

Posted by Shona Lockhart, 14th February 2009

 

www.bluedogjewellery.com

Blue Dog Jewellery - Loulou's Valentine's Day Tips - Trip to Venice anyone?

Venice takes off its mask

Two social networking groups have organised a street party to reclaim Carnival for Venetians

Teresa Machan

• guardian.co.uk, Friday 13 February 2009 10.29 GMT
• Article history

Another face of carnival ... Venice locals are taking a stand against the carnival tourist tide by staging a new celebration by Venetians for Venetians. Photograph: Alessia Pierdomenico/Reuters

Of all the pomp and pageantry Venice is famous for, none of its festivals has quite the allure of Carnival. Set against the city's fairytale backdrop, Carnival is the perfect marriage of age-old beauty and high drama. Enjoying its heyday in the 18th-century, the pre-Lent celebration quickly became a cover (quite literally) for dirty Doges and general transgression for the masses – before being snuffed out by that conquering killjoy Napoleon in 1797. It was also banned by Mussolini in the 1930s.

These days the event is facing a mightier foe: tourism. Resuscitated in the late 1970s, partly as a way of filling hotel rooms in the winter, Carnival today sees Venice at its most packed, preened and prohibitively expensive. The sentiment among many Venetians is that the 10-day programme of events is little more than a sponsored sell-out. Among the sponsors of this year's themed Sensation of the Six Senses event are Swatch watches and Coca-Cola.

Giuseppina Giudice has lived in the district of San Marco all her life. "Venetians don't dress up for Carnival after the age of 10," she says. "All we see of Carnival is a river of strangers who flow into town to feel 'Venetian', and who fill it, buy a cheap made-in-China mask and leave with nothing but photographs of St Mark's Square. We pray that we don't get sick, go into labour or forget to buy any groceries because there's no way to reach anywhere in less than an hour."

Tired of the sponsored pantomime, which nets the city around €100m (£88.5m) each year, two social networking groups, 40XVenezia and Venessia.com have for the first time organised their own independently-funded Carnival party, to which visitors are invited. No pricey tickets or fancy ball gowns – just a good old Italian street party.

Claudio Scarpa, general manager of the Venetian Hotels Association, which was instrumental in getting Carnival off the ground again in the 70s, has given his backing to the street party: "The real Carnival was a way for Venetians to forget their hardships for 10 days. Carnival now is for tourists. We need more events organised by locals, to help them [reclaim] their traditions."

Well over 1,000 people are expected to join in the street party at a small piazza near the Rialto Bridge. Scarpa said that the strong euro and economic situation has meant that hotels are not as full as they usually are and that visitors can still find last-minute deals on veneziasi.it. He also said that lots of visitors will stay in Mestre, Vicenza and Treviso and get the train in for the day.

"Our Carnival celebration will be on the street, not in a palace. We're leaving those parties to the nobility," said Matteo Secchi of Venessia.com. "It is organised by Venetians for Venetians – and anyone else that wants to join us."

The theme is "Festa Indiana, Veneziani sensa Riserve" (Venice without reserves). The publicity poster depicts the city's famous winged lion – a symbol of freedom and power – dressed as a Native American.

The message to the administration is clear. "This is not Disneyland: people live here," said Secchi. "We feel like Native American Indians – a dwindling populace confined to our 'reservations'."

For Venezia.com in particular, Festa Indiana is an opportunity to inform revellers from around the world about Venice's population plight. The city is haemorrhaging residents at a rate of 1,000 a year. Today's 60,029 residents are swamped by 21 million tourists and the fear is that once locals have gone, taking their traditions and culture with them, Venice could become little more than a theme park.

"Tourists are welcome to our party – the more we can inform them about the real Venice rather than the postcard Venice, the better," said Secchi.

Leaflets, in English, will be handed out to tourists who can get masked for free by fellow Native Americans, once they arrive.

"I'll give it a chance, although I'm not sure how local it will be. There are few real Venetians left and most of them will try to leave town," said Giudice.

Getting there

Festa Indiana, 23 February, Pescheria di Rialto, San Polo. The afternoon will be family orientated, with music, drinks and food and will continue into the evening with bands and DJs.

Carnival: 13-23 February.

Flights are currently available with BMI for £126rtn (including taxes and fees) flying from London Heathrow to Venice Marco Polo on 21 Feb, returning on 24 Feb.

Find details on getting the train from London St Pancras to Venice on seat61.com

Posted by Shona Lockhart, 14th February 2009

www.bluedogjewellery.com

Blue Dog Jewellery - how to meet a man at 40

Message from the chairman:

"February is traditionally the month when we focus on love and relationships.  With Valentine's Day just around the corner Blue Dog Jewellery takes a light-hearted look at how to find the love of your life, ways to keep him/her happy and how to dispense with your partner when the love wears thin."

Loulou

xxx

From The Sunday Times

January 11, 2009

How to meet a man at 40

It doesn't get any easier the older you get. So just how do you win the dating game?

Shane Watson

Before we get started, you need to know that the man you fall in love with will bear absolutely no resemblance to the man you were planning to fall in love with. He will live an hour away from where you live, minimum. He will be wearing a shiny suit and, possibly, a brown shirt. And he’ll have the sort of baggage that requires its own baggage handler. This much you can guarantee.

Because one of the reasons you are single (and this is the only one that is strictly your fault) is that you have written off every kind of man who might conceivably cross your path. You have built a fortress out of your preconditions and you are glowering down from the battlements. Men do approach from time to time, but then they see the vats of boiling oil teetering on the ramparts and think better of it.

As far as you are concerned, this fortress is a normal precaution for vetting prospective men, and so it was, initially. Then time passed, you settled into a routine and now you are mistress of the You Won’t Get Past Me checklist.

As it happens, I was set up with the One at a lunch three years before the party at which we officially met. The reason the lunch doesn’t count as the first meeting is because we barely spoke, and the reason we didn’t speak is because I ran his details through the List database and, in 0.2 seconds, it came up with a You Cannot Be Serious rating. Of course it did! The One was very recently divorced (not for me, thanks). He had three children in tow (uh-oh). I think he’d had a savage £5 haircut, and I’m almost certain he was wearing the brown shirt. So, at that first meeting, I summoned the List and the List gave me permission to do nothing.

 

This List, let’s be clear, is not made up of sensible broad guidelines such as must not be married or should live on same continent; it is extremely specific. Here are some edited highlights from my List, and I’m not making a word of it up:

- Must have hair. Hair is good, but what if top of his List was “must have large breasts”? That puts a rather different complexion on it, doesn’t it?

- Must not have ex-wife or children. Like the pool isn’t small enough as it is.

- Must not wear fleeces. The bulky navy ones. I’m not going to budge on this one. Fleeces say you’re the kind of man who takes his wife to the pub for your anniversary dinner.

- Must not wear short-sleeved shirts. See fleeces. Add golf/ cricket/rugby club to anniversary venue.

- Must not wear jewellery. Although you can tell a lot from jewellery. Any man wearing a leather-thong necklace is certainly a narcissist who still imagines he could have been in the Rolling Stones. Pierced earrings past the age of 40 equal midlife-crisis man. Gold chains on a mahogany chest are the equivalent of the long little fingernail (just plain sleazy).

- Must have a good job, but not one that requires him to get up at 5.30am and take a laptop on holiday.

- Must not wear hoodies or V-neck sweaters with nothing underneath. Hoodies are for boys. And “nothing underneath” is another I Love Myself sign, only this time there’s also the suggestion of And I Am Hot in Bed.

- Must not sing flat. This, too, I stand by.

- Should play sports to fairly high standard. No excuse for this. It’s probably a hangover from school and the presex checklist of a boy’s fanciability.

When you think about it, this List would be more appropriate for an 18-year-old girl. Right now, and without any further ado, you need to abandon the List. Come on, there is nothing on your List that is genuinely non-negotiable. So you hate goatees, get him to shave it off. So you’re allergic to three-quarter-length trousers. Tell him. Liberate yourself. Start over. Not your type? Right, and that’s been such a success for you to date.

After much deliberation, these are the only up-front non-negotiables:

- Must be kind. If you have heard him be vile about anyone, seen him be cruel to animals, children or boring hostesses, then this man is not kind.

- Must like women. You think this goes without saying. Of course every man you’ve ever been out with has loved women. But are you absolutely sure? Did they like it if you contradicted them in public? Were there many women they found attractive who were a) over 50, b) large, or c) noisy? Thought not.

- Must adore you.

- Must be smarter than you, or at least as smart. Smarter, probably, or you will keep looking for that Achilles heel.

- Must have bigger feet than you. Obviously. And must be hairier.

- Must be able to make you laugh in all situations, including when you get to the airport and discover he has no passport.

- You must fancy him unconditionally.

If you cannot put a tick next to all of the above, then I would seriously consider calling it off right now.

So you’ve dumped the List, or at least made a concerted effort to put aside your prejudices. Now what? First, a small pep talk: you need to be ready for this to happen. Long-term single women have been known to get hooked on keeping their options open. You secretly like the feeling that something life-changing might be just around the corner. And the reason you — who travels solo, makes friends easily and never says no to adventure — need to rethink your future is because you may be ready to try everything and risk everything but your heart.

GETTING IN THE ZONE

- Assume that you are going to be having sex in the very near future. It generates that mixture of adrenaline and pheromones that people have been trying to bottle since the beginning of time.

- Make the extra effort. If you go to the party wearing your second-hottest dress, because you are saving your No 1 dress and you’ve already decided that you’ll only stay for an hour, then you might as well not bother. You will not exude the right anything-is-possible glow and the One will look in your direction and think “Downer”.

Related Internet Links

• Times Online Dating

- Do something differently. Wear heels instead of flats, put on a slithery dress instead of jeans, do something unexpected with your hair (though obviously not involving an Alice band). You won’t necessarily look any better, but you will feel like you’ve changed up a gear. Part of the game (after a period of being overlooked) is believing you are definitely worth some attention, rather than passable in a low-lit environment.

- Lose your friends. I know, this sounds like madness. Who has the single woman got if not her loyal girlfriends? Who is going to bung you in a cab at the end of the night and then ring to check you haven’t fallen asleep in the stairwell? Nonetheless, as much as you love them and need them, your friends will cramp your style. What you don’t need is one of them rolling her eyes as you nibble provocatively on the rim of your champagne glass, or another bellowing: “Go on, do your Hoffmeister bear impersonation!” Plus, if something should happen to develop when your friends are in the vicinity, you can expect them to react in one of the following ways: gawping, followed by circling at a not-discreet- enough distance, texting all your other mutual friends with updates on your progress; giving the double thumbs-up immediately behind his head; leaping in to help things along (Isn’t she just gorgeous. I just love her! Doesn’t she look amazing tonight? Isn’t this brilliant?). Alternatively, if drunk enough, they may start popping up behind sofas, sniggering. This stuff doesn’t change the older you get; if anything, it gets worse. So don’t automatically arrange to go to the party with a couple of girls or, once you get there, rush to find the people you’ve known all your life.

- Pick your man. Don’t wait for him to find you. The One says he saw me steaming across the room, nostrils flared, elbowing women out of my path, but this is not true. I did spot him in the distance and then sort of worked my way across the room in his direction. But it’s true that I made it happen. And then, drum roll please, I did that thing happily single women so often forget to do. I set about making him like me (as opposed to waiting for him to prove to me that he was worth the trouble).

- Flirt and then some. However much you think you are flirting, double it. What the hell, quadruple it. Barely-there flirting will register as average civility, if it registers at all. Singledom makes a girl cautious. She is preoccupied with not looking like a mad, sad, ticking man-huntress. Trust me, you need to be flirting at a level where you think, “Blimey, steady on, he’ll think I’m a pro”, before you can be confident that he has twigged you might quite like him.

SOME RULES OF FLIRTING

- Be intensely interested in everything he says. Casting your eyes around is counterproductive, especially if you’re hunting the canapés.

- Maintain eye contact for long enough that you are both in no doubt it is not accidental.

- Be very impressed.

- Tease, a bit, but not about any of the no-go areas — height, hair, lisp, mothers, his level of inebriation/sweating.

- Flatter, but only lightly, in passing, and not more than once.

- Don’t touch. You could lightly touch his forearm, maybe. But better not.

- Disappear at some point. For roughly 10 minutes. You want him to have the chance to miss you.

- Some say fiddle with your hair, your cleavage, your earrings. I say don’t risk looking like you have fleas. Don’t lick your lips/teeth under any circumstances. He may think you are chasing canapé particles.

- Be extravagantly open about everything (bar medical stuff). Honesty is disarming.

- Make him responsible for you. Say, “Would you get me another drink?”, “Would you let me lean on you while I do up my shoe”, “Would you tell me what you think about buying property when the subprime market is in collapse?” Just kidding.

BEING SUCCESSFULLY SINGLE

Look, meeting a man is not your only goal in life. It doesn’t keep you awake at night (although it has been known to). But the key to being successfully single is keeping an open mind. You want to exude contentment and confidence, but also avoid giving the impression that you are so pleased with your single life, you wouldn’t give it up for anything, including the right man. It’s all about presentation:

- If there is one thing the single woman cannot afford to be, it’s a burden. You must be sunny and amenable, the best guest, the most reliable friend, the tonic at the party and the one who blends in on the family holiday. Precisely because you are not part of a couple, you need to give out the message, loud and clear, that you are no trouble and guaranteed life-enhancing. Being successfully single means having lots of different options and knowing plenty of people who might think, “Yes, bring her along!” rather than, “Maybe not”.

- People notice single women getting drunk more than they would notice any other demographic. They are waiting for you to get swervy and take to the dancefloor, on your own, clutching a bottle of champagne, and then collapse sobbing on the shoulder of some man who has long since married your best friend. All men over the age of 35 have pretty fixed views about women and drink — not women in general, you understand, but women they could be interested in. They love women who drink. They’re crazy about wild party girls. But they are all petrified of a genuinely drunk woman. Uninhibited is good. Determined to dance is good. Singing is good. Stumbling is less good. Slurring is worse. Shouty and argumentative is not good. Legs buckling is bad. Weepy is bad. Sick on floor is really bad. He decided not to call you, by the way, at slurring.

- The single woman must be prepared at all times. Even if you know that the chance of your freshly waxed areas getting man exposure is zero, there is a certain confidence that comes from being good to go at a moment’s notice. Grooming (don’t you hate that word?) works in mysterious ways. I have a friend who is living with a man she first slept with solely because, that same day, she had shelled out for a very expensive seaweed wrap. The seaweed wrap made her a) more confident on account of her baby-soft skin, and b) absolutely determined not to waste her investment. So there’s a possible double incentive for grooming.

- A woman who has a boyfriend can turn up to a party wearing a holey jumper, a ripped skirt and trodden-down ballet pumps and this woman will look bohemian and sexy. A single woman wearing exactly the same, on the same night, will look scruffy, grubby and, possibly, a bit unstable. People will look at her and think: “Poor Susie. She really has given up, hasn’t she?”

There is one unavoidable truth about clothes that many of us are still determinedly avoiding: if you want sex, then you need to dress with sex in mind. Dressing with sex in mind does not, repeat not, mean second-guessing men’s fantasies. That could work, but it will not work nearly as effectively as you wearing whatever you think is blindingly sexy, for two reasons:

a) A woman in slit satin skirt, fishnet tights, clingy top or similar will look like the reluctant deputy headmistress in the school charity performance if she simply isn’t that kind of girl. b) Who knows what men find sexy? It’s different for all of them, and just when you think you have a handle on what they like, they’ll remind you it isn’t that simple. The look you really want to avoid (apart from goth) is what your mother might describe as “lovely”. Lovely is a bias-cut floral dress and kitten-heel slingbacks, wrap dresses worn with cashmere cardigans, and pastel ballerina tops over slinky skirts. Once, a long time ago, the brilliant Isabella Blow told me I must wear a hat if I wanted to find the One. “You have to stand out in a crowd. You have to let them see you,” she said. “And men love a hat. They see the hat and they want to meet the girl.”

I never got around to wearing a hat Isabella-style (shaped like a galleon, blocking out the sun), but I should have taken the point. You don’t have to put a ship on your head to get men to notice you, but if you spend a decade wearing black trouser suits to parties, don’t be surprised if they walk right past you to get to the girl with the parrot on her shoulder.

 

© Shane Watson 2009. Extract taken from How to Meet a Man After Forty and Other Midlife Dilemmas Solved, published January 15 (Penguin £7.99). Buy it for £7.59 (inc p&p) through the Sunday Times BooksFirst on 0845 271 2135 or at timesonline.co.uk/booksfirst

 

Posted by Shona Lockhart, 3rd February 2009

 

www.bluedogjewellery.com

Blue Dog Jewellery - what can rom-coms teach us about love?

Message from the chairman:

"February is traditionally the month when we focus on love and relationships.  With Valentine's Day just around the corner Blue Dog Jewellery takes a light-hearted look at how to find the love of your life, ways to keep him/her happy and how to dispense with your partner when the love wears thin."

Loulou

xxx

The Times, January 05, 2009

7 things I learned from rom-coms

Guest blogger Daniel Bettridge writes:

Some recent research from the boffins over at the Heriot-Watt University in Edinburgh has suggested that rom-coms ‘spoil your love life’, misleading the movie-going public by providing inaccurate representations of love and relationships that make everyone’s real life partners seem, well pretty dull in comparison.

To prove this theory the ‘study’ observed 100 student volunteers comparing their reactions to watching rom-coms like  Serendipity, The Runaway Bride and Love Actually, to the reactions of another hundred poor souls who were given a David Lynch drama to watch. Obviously, 100 of the volunteers came out of the experiment confused, bewildered and questioning reality,  while the others had a newfound appreciation for Lynch. But it got me to thinking:  As the type of person who is easily led by the media, the chances are a large proportion of my understanding of romance has come from the twists and turns of these fine educational films.  I thought I’d delve back into some of the syrupy seat fillers that Hollywood drips into cinemas every year to find out just what I’ve learned:

1: The girl of my dreams is probably American –Show me a Richard Curtis rom-com and I’ll show you an English actor bumbling his way into a relationship with a coy American miss (Four Weddings and a Funeral, Notting Hill). Good to see our special relationship extending to members of the fairer sex, but there is a limited pool of U.S visitors to our shores each year so the odds aren’t good. Furthermore, what happens if I do hook up with a travelling yank? Where will we live? Where will our kids grow up? Will she get a Visa? All practical considerations, conveniently sidestepped by the promoters of transatlantic love-ins.

2: Women fake it – Alongside Sixth Sense and The Planet of the Apes (it was earth all along by the way) this is one of the biggest cinematic reveals in history and one which even M Night Shyamalan couldn’t cook up. Women fake it apparently (When Harry Met Sally). Yes I hope Meg’s husband knows because judging by her performance in this admittedly decent movie, she’s been lying to him for years.

3: I’ll meet her when I least expect it –The love of my life is out there, but meeting her isn’t going to be that easy. You see it’s all down to chance. She may be on the tube (Sliding Doors) or sparks may fly when we go to try on the same pair of gloves (Serendipity); but its almost certainly not going to be as simple as going down the pub and buying her a drink. But wait a minute, this doesn’t sound right at all. I mean have you tried meeting people on tube? It’s incredibly difficult to engage in a bout of flirtatious eye contact when your face is buried deep in the armpit of a City boy’s suit. Worse, as I gaze forlornly as we’re shuttled between stations she’ll probably think I’m crazy and report me to the police before we’re even halfway round the Circle line.

4: Chances are she’s seeing someone else – The message is coming through loud and clear if you believe in what the rom-coms are shovelling. The girl of your dreams is out there, but I’m afraid she’s seeing someone else, someone who is wholly unsuitable; she just doesn’t know it yet. And she’ll probably be the last to know (around 20 minutes before the end of the film normally). So in the absence of Cupid I’m going to have to move things along myself, engaging in the sort of emotional espionage that would get me onto Jeremy Kyle.. It’s the poor sap she’s left I feel sorry for, as rom-coms rarely show us the impact that the messy break-up of an engagement or long-term relationship can have. But she’s making the right choice isn’t she? I mean the other guy sneezes a lot (Sleepless in Seattle) or simply wasn’t Tom Hanks (You’ve got Mail) both of which are of course perfectly valid reasons to break up a functional relationship on a whim. The problem is though, that I’m not Tom Hanks and what happens if he just turns up out of the blue one day, how am I supposed to trust that my newfound paramour won’t just run off into the sunset, leaving me to tell not only our friends but also the novelty Mexican band I’d booked for our wedding. Thoughtless harpy!

5: Our friends will be heavily involved in the process – Yes if you’re a bloke with a geeky, sickeningly loved up, or just plain right disgusting best mate; chances are he’s going to be heavily involved in the process of meeting your future wife. And in return for his actions your wingman will cop off with one of the bridesmaids at your wedding, usually your love interest’s best friend who will either be a complete prude or hilariously slutty.

6: I’ll probably have to breach airport security at some point, or at the very least run a bit – You see if there’s one thing I’ve learnt above all else from watching rom-coms down the years it’s that you don’t tell women what you really think unless you get it wrong, or, boo-hoo, you get your feelings hurt. That is unless you’re Mel Gibson in which case, get this, you hilariously already know what they’re thinking and, better than that, have stumbled upon the secret to telepathy which could change human existence as we know it.

You see whilst we may have just met the woman whom we hope to spend the rest of our lives with; we’re genetically made up to be stubborn ignorant fools who wont tell said woman how we feel until she’s got sick of us and decided to move on. Only at this point will we spring into action, ready to throw together an elaborate show of affection at a moment’s notice in a bid to convince her of our true feelings.

So say goodbye airport security (Love Actually) and hello to some loud playing Peter Gabriel (Say Anything) because at times like these only an over the top display of affection will cover up your weeks, nay months of inactivity and emotional failing.

7: Absolutely nothing about relationships – Rom-coms have their place, if only to convince those of us cynics that there is someone bearable enough to spend the rest of our lives with out there and their just waiting to have our coffee scald them when we’re next on the tube. But what they neglect to tell you in all of the doe-eyed montage of the act of falling in love, is anything substantial about everyday relationships. Time and time again, once our lovebirds get together the credits roll, leaving us smugly satisfied, safe in the knowledge that our protagonists are going to live happily ever after. But in real life, the credits never roll and maybe if we saw more movies with Hugh and Julia arguing about whose turn it is to do the hoovering, or Meg yelling at Tom for watching the football again, our hopes might be a bit more realistic.

Posted by Shona Lockhart, 2nd February 2009

www.bluedogjewellery.com

Guest blogger Daniel Bettridge writes:

Some recent research from the boffins over at the Heriot-Watt University in Edinburgh has suggested that rom-coms ‘spoil your love life’, misleading the movie-going public by providing inaccurate representations of love and relationships that make everyone’s real life partners seem, well pretty dull in comparison.

To prove this theory the ‘study’ observed 100 student volunteers comparing their reactions to watching rom-coms like  Serendipity, The Runaway Bride and Love Actually, to the reactions of another hundred poor souls who were given a David Lynch drama to watch. Obviously, 100 of the volunteers came out of the experiment confused, bewildered and questioning reality,  while the others had a newfound appreciation for Lynch. But it got me to thinking:  As the type of person who is easily led by the media, the chances are a large proportion of my understanding of romance has come from the twists and turns of these fine educational films.  I thought I’d delve back into some of the syrupy seat fillers that Hollywood drips into cinemas every year to find out just what I’ve learned:

1: The girl of my dreams is probably American –Show me a Richard Curtis rom-com and I’ll show you an English actor bumbling his way into a relationship with a coy American miss (Four Weddings and a Funeral, Notting Hill). Good to see our special relationship extending to members of the fairer sex, but there is a limited pool of U.S visitors to our shores each year so the odds aren’t good. Furthermore, what happens if I do hook up with a travelling yank? Where will we live? Where will our kids grow up? Will she get a Visa? All practical considerations, conveniently sidestepped by the promoters of transatlantic love-ins.

2: Women fake it – Alongside Sixth Sense and The Planet of the Apes (it was earth all along by the way) this is one of the biggest cinematic reveals in history and one which even M Night Shyamalan couldn’t cook up. Women fake it apparently (When Harry Met Sally). Yes I hope Meg’s husband knows because judging by her performance in this admittedly decent movie, she’s been lying to him for years.

3: I’ll meet her when I least expect it –The love of my life is out there, but meeting her isn’t going to be that easy. You see it’s all down to chance. She may be on the tube (Sliding Doors) or sparks may fly when we go to try on the same pair of gloves (Serendipity); but its almost certainly not going to be as simple as going down the pub and buying her a drink. But wait a minute, this doesn’t sound right at all. I mean have you tried meeting people on tube? It’s incredibly difficult to engage in a bout of flirtatious eye contact when your face is buried deep in the armpit of a City boy’s suit. Worse, as I gaze forlornly as we’re shuttled between stations she’ll probably think I’m crazy and report me to the police before we’re even halfway round the Circle line.

4: Chances are she’s seeing someone else – The message is coming through loud and clear if you believe in what the rom-coms are shovelling. The girl of your dreams is out there, but I’m afraid she’s seeing someone else, someone who is wholly unsuitable; she just doesn’t know it yet. And she’ll probably be the last to know (around 20 minutes before the end of the film normally). So in the absence of Cupid I’m going to have to move things along myself, engaging in the sort of emotional espionage that would get me onto Jeremy Kyle.. It’s the poor sap she’s left I feel sorry for, as rom-coms rarely show us the impact that the messy break-up of an engagement or long-term relationship can have. But she’s making the right choice isn’t she? I mean the other guy sneezes a lot (Sleepless in Seattle) or simply wasn’t Tom Hanks (You’ve got Mail) both of which are of course perfectly valid reasons to break up a functional relationship on a whim. The problem is though, that I’m not Tom Hanks and what happens if he just turns up out of the blue one day, how am I supposed to trust that my newfound paramour won’t just run off into the sunset, leaving me to tell not only our friends but also the novelty Mexican band I’d booked for our wedding. Thoughtless harpy!

5: Our friends will be heavily involved in the process – Yes if you’re a bloke with a geeky, sickeningly loved up, or just plain right disgusting best mate; chances are he’s going to be heavily involved in the process of meeting your future wife. And in return for his actions your wingman will cop off with one of the bridesmaids at your wedding, usually your love interest’s best friend who will either be a complete prude or hilariously slutty.

6: I’ll probably have to breach airport security at some point, or at the very least run a bit – You see if there’s one thing I’ve learnt above all else from watching rom-coms down the years it’s that you don’t tell women what you really think unless you get it wrong, or, boo-hoo, you get your feelings hurt. That is unless you’re Mel Gibson in which case, get this, you hilariously already know what they’re thinking and, better than that, have stumbled upon the secret to telepathy which could change human existence as we know it.

You see whilst we may have just met the woman whom we hope to spend the rest of our lives with; we’re genetically made up to be stubborn ignorant fools who wont tell said woman how we feel until she’s got sick of us and decided to move on. Only at this point will we spring into action, ready to throw together an elaborate show of affection at a moment’s notice in a bid to convince her of our true feelings.

So say goodbye airport security (Love Actually) and hello to some loud playing Peter Gabriel (Say Anything) because at times like these only an over the top display of affection will cover up your weeks, nay months of inactivity and emotional failing.

7: Absolutely nothing about relationships – Rom-coms have their place, if only to convince those of us cynics that there is someone bearable enough to spend the rest of our lives with out there and their just waiting to have our coffee scald them when we’re next on the tube. But what they neglect to tell you in all of the doe-eyed montage of the act of falling in love, is anything substantial about everyday relationships. Time and time again, once our lovebirds get together the credits roll, leaving us smugly satisfied, safe in the knowledge that our protagonists are going to live happily ever after. But in real life, the credits never roll and maybe if we saw more movies with Hugh and Julia arguing about whose turn it is to do the hoovering, or Meg yelling at Tom for watching the football again, our hopes might be a bit more realistic.

7 things I learned from rom-coms

Guest blogger Daniel Bettridge writes:

Some recent research from the boffins over at the Heriot-Watt University in Edinburgh has suggested that rom-coms ‘spoil your love life’, misleading the movie-going public by providing inaccurate representations of love and relationships that make everyone’s real life partners seem, well pretty dull in comparison.

To prove this theory the ‘study’ observed 100 student volunteers comparing their reactions to watching rom-coms like  Serendipity, The Runaway Bride and Love Actually, to the reactions of another hundred poor souls who were given a David Lynch drama to watch. Obviously, 100 of the volunteers came out of the experiment confused, bewildered and questioning reality,  while the others had a newfound appreciation for Lynch. But it got me to thinking:  As the type of person who is easily led by the media, the chances are a large proportion of my understanding of romance has come from the twists and turns of these fine educational films.  I thought I’d delve back into some of the syrupy seat fillers that Hollywood drips into cinemas every year to find out just what I’ve learned:

1: The girl of my dreams is probably American –Show me a Richard Curtis rom-com and I’ll show you an English actor bumbling his way into a relationship with a coy American miss (Four Weddings and a Funeral, Notting Hill). Good to see our special relationship extending to members of the fairer sex, but there is a limited pool of U.S visitors to our shores each year so the odds aren’t good. Furthermore, what happens if I do hook up with a travelling yank? Where will we live? Where will our kids grow up? Will she get a Visa? All practical considerations, conveniently sidestepped by the promoters of transatlantic love-ins.

2: Women fake it – Alongside Sixth Sense and The Planet of the Apes (it was earth all along by the way) this is one of the biggest cinematic reveals in history and one which even M Night Shyamalan couldn’t cook up. Women fake it apparently (When Harry Met Sally). Yes I hope Meg’s husband knows because judging by her performance in this admittedly decent movie, she’s been lying to him for years.

3: I’ll meet her when I least expect it –The love of my life is out there, but meeting her isn’t going to be that easy. You see it’s all down to chance. She may be on the tube (Sliding Doors) or sparks may fly when we go to try on the same pair of gloves (Serendipity); but its almost certainly not going to be as simple as going down the pub and buying her a drink. But wait a minute, this doesn’t sound right at all. I mean have you tried meeting people on tube? It’s incredibly difficult to engage in a bout of flirtatious eye contact when your face is buried deep in the armpit of a City boy’s suit. Worse, as I gaze forlornly as we’re shuttled between stations she’ll probably think I’m crazy and report me to the police before we’re even halfway round the Circle line.

4: Chances are she’s seeing someone else – The message is coming through loud and clear if you believe in what the rom-coms are shovelling. The girl of your dreams is out there, but I’m afraid she’s seeing someone else, someone who is wholly unsuitable; she just doesn’t know it yet. And she’ll probably be the last to know (around 20 minutes before the end of the film normally). So in the absence of Cupid I’m going to have to move things along myself, engaging in the sort of emotional espionage that would get me onto Jeremy Kyle.. It’s the poor sap she’s left I feel sorry for, as rom-coms rarely show us the impact that the messy break-up of an engagement or long-term relationship can have. But she’s making the right choice isn’t she? I mean the other guy sneezes a lot (Sleepless in Seattle) or simply wasn’t Tom Hanks (You’ve got Mail) both of which are of course perfectly valid reasons to break up a functional relationship on a whim. The problem is though, that I’m not Tom Hanks and what happens if he just turns up out of the blue one day, how am I supposed to trust that my newfound paramour won’t just run off into the sunset, leaving me to tell not only our friends but also the novelty Mexican band I’d booked for our wedding. Thoughtless harpy!

5: Our friends will be heavily involved in the process – Yes if you’re a bloke with a geeky, sickeningly loved up, or just plain right disgusting best mate; chances are he’s going to be heavily involved in the process of meeting your future wife. And in return for his actions your wingman will cop off with one of the bridesmaids at your wedding, usually your love interest’s best friend who will either be a complete prude or hilariously slutty.

6: I’ll probably have to breach airport security at some point, or at the very least run a bit – You see if there’s one thing I’ve learnt above all else from watching rom-coms down the years it’s that you don’t tell women what you really think unless you get it wrong, or, boo-hoo, you get your feelings hurt. That is unless you’re Mel Gibson in which case, get this, you hilariously already know what they’re thinking and, better than that, have stumbled upon the secret to telepathy which could change human existence as we know it.

You see whilst we may have just met the woman whom we hope to spend the rest of our lives with; we’re genetically made up to be stubborn ignorant fools who wont tell said woman how we feel until she’s got sick of us and decided to move on. Only at this point will we spring into action, ready to throw together an elaborate show of affection at a moment’s notice in a bid to convince her of our true feelings.

So say goodbye airport security (Love Actually) and hello to some loud playing Peter Gabriel (Say Anything) because at times like these only an over the top display of affection will cover up your weeks, nay months of inactivity and emotional failing.

7: Absolutely nothing about relationships – Rom-coms have their place, if only to convince those of us cynics that there is someone bearable enough to spend the rest of our lives with out there and their just waiting to have our coffee scald them when we’re next on the tube. But what they neglect to tell you in all of the doe-eyed montage of the act of falling in love, is anything substantial about everyday relationships. Time and time again, once our lovebirds get together the credits roll, leaving us smugly satisfied, safe in the knowledge that our protagonists are going to live happily ever after. But in real life, the credits never roll and maybe if we saw more movies with Hugh and Julia arguing about whose turn it is to do the hoovering, or Meg yelling at Tom for watching the football again, our hopes might be a bit more realistic.

Blue Dog Jewellery - the credit crunch is not just bad news for dogs

Message from the chairman:

"February is traditionally the month when we focus on love and relationships.  With Valentine's Day just around the corner Blue Dog Jewellery takes a light-hearted look at how to find the love of your life, ways to keep him/her happy and how to dispense with your partner when the love wears thin."

Loulou

xxx

He's jowly compared with his Botox wife

The cruel demise of the trophy husband

Alice Thomson writes in The Times:

This credit crunch has been terrible news for pet dogs, Woolies pick'n'mix and corporate pheasant shoots. Now the latest victim appears to be the trophy husband.

You know the one: the alpha male, unfit, balding and seriously rich - women are suddenly dropping him. Beautiful wives don't want a house husband who is always trying to cadge a decaf latte off them and is still hanging around at breakfast. That was never part of the proposition.

Trophy husband had to work hard for his arm candy. He spent his best years at the office, at Heathrow or BlackBerrying from the spare room at 3am. In return he could expect a stunning, perfectly groomed partner and home. In the mornings his wife made sure her brows and nails were manicured and dealt with the gardener, chauffeur, housekeeper, florist, dog walker and cleaner. She organised the rental in Mustique, booked two years in advance so her husband could play cricket with Mick Jagger on the beach, and asked her assistant to put her name on the waiting list for the next Roland Mouret dress. In the afternoons, she found the best tutors to travel to Mauritius with the family at Christmas so the children could pass their school entrance exams in January.

By 7pm, she was dressed in her Prada lace for the next charity ball. If you had asked her what a Ponzi (pyramid scheme) was, she'd have thought it was a cute Chloé handbag and she would have assumed that deleverage was an Agent Provocateur bra. She left the finances to her husband.

But if her hedge-fund hunk loses his job, the deal is off. In the past three months, the number of couples with more than £7 million in assets who have filed for divorce has spiralled. It sounds brutal, but trophy wives didn't just marry for love, they made a hard-headed business decision.

Like Scarlett O'Hara's “I'll never be hungry again”, they didn't get the point of being poor but happy. Now their husbands are losing their money, they are not quite such an enticing proposition. Many City men have been working so hard in the past few months that they look jowly and old compared with their Botox, boob-job, Brazilian-wax wives.

Mr Moneybags, of all people, should know what a deal is. His wife spent hours choosing the door handles of the Chelsea house that he is putting on the market. It will be torture having to buy back last year's Missoni bikini from Oxfam. If she runs off with her personal trainer, who can blame her? At least he is as toned as she is, and she can cut down on one of her bills. So pity the trophy husband. He may soon become a relic.

Posted by Shona Lockhart, 1st February 2009

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