Foschini Fail

To Mr AD Murray (Foschini CEO)

In the recent run-up to Christmas I spent quite a lot of time doing what every girl loves – shopping. It all started at Menlyn Shopping Centre at the beginning of December when my sister and I stumbled across the most beautiful baby doll negligee I have ever seen. I was absolutely amazed!

I have a severe fetish when it comes to lingerie and really struggle to walk away from something that I like!

In a frantic rush, rivalled only by that of women at a Boxing Day sale, I clambered over my sister to find one in my size, and I must just add that at that point I would have paid any ridiculous amount for it, only to find out that they didn’t even have my size!

After a momentary lapse into a near suicidal depression I realized with glee (thanks to my sister) that ‘Foschini’s is a franchise store and I would be able to find the cute ensemble at any ‘Foschini’s in South Africa. And on that note my day’s shopping came to an end.

Since then I have been to five different outlets (including going all the way to Secunda and George) in the hopes of finding it. To my utter dismay, I cannot find it anywhere. And when I did eventually find one my size (in Secunda, can you believe?!?) it had holes in the material and the padding of the bra was completely screwed up.

I hate to complain, but seriously, this is absolutely ridiculous. Is it truly possible for all your stores to be so completely incompetent? Is it possible that none of your stores can have stock of it? And if you do wish to have such an absurdly under stocked store couldn’t you at least have an online store so that I could order it in my size? 

Well, I have now given up on trying to find my sexy little baby doll lingerie and due to the complete incompetence of your stores and some extremely rude shop assistants I must say, my faith in the ‘Foschini’s name brand is lower than ever.

So before you lose any more potential clients I suggest that you hire someone who can actually do their job and get adequate amounts of the latest stock. I also suggest that your staff be hired by someone else who understands that potential clients should be treated with respect and friendliness instead of a self-absorbed, lazy assistant who couldn’t even bother to check whether there was any more stock coming in in the near future.

And if you can’t find someone who can do the job properly, don’t even bother stocking your stores because there is nothing in ‘normal-human-size’ anyway.

If you are at all concerned about me, as a potential client, please could you inform me of a proper ‘Foschini’s so that I may find this particular item, if not, I’m sure I can find something similar on the internet anyway.

I look forward to a speedy reply.

Katherine McGinn

Unhappy Client

Avid Blogger

Christmas 2012

And so, with the fading chords of another Christmas carol, this very special family day draws to a close. Full stomach, droopy eyes and completely satisfied taste buds remind me of my complete over-indulgence of our truly amazing meal and as the sun fades I feel my heart swell full of love for my family, my skin rejoice at the feel of the fresh cool of the evening light and my belly stretch to cope with the increased intake as I realise that once again my eyes became too big for my tummy.

Yes, another amazing day.

I think back to the early hours of the day. Woken up at the crack of dawn by my own excitement, followed by making coffee in bed for my parents and then my favourite; presents! This may seem a bit shallow, but let me quickly explain something to you all. Last year for Christmas I found my sister the ultimate gift and I knew from the moment I bought it that she was going to adore it. As she opened it and found her very own strawberry milkshake coloured Stellenbosch hoodie, she squealed and came bounding across the room and into my arms.

Her joy at the simple gift made me realize just how well I know her and just how much her reaction meant to me. Seeing that pure emotion made me see just how special it is to be able to buy the people you love gifts that bring them so much happiness.

My reason for loving the present opening ceremony is not only because I love being spoilt rotten but also because I love seeing the reactions to the gifts that I have bought for my special family.

Later, while lying on the beach, soaking up the sun and working on my tan, I thought back to this little family ceremony of ours and couldn’t help but giggle out loud. I was really spoilt this year, I really and truly was and it seems as if everyone enjoyed their presents. But the funny part was, as usual, my Teddy Bear’s (stepdad’s) comments throughout. He has the ability to make completely ludicrous and inappropriate comments whilst simultaneously making me want to shoot him in the face and roll on the floor laughing my head off.

I got beautiful messages from family and friends wishing me a Merry Christmas as well as the usual broadcast messages from people I never even speak to. I got amazing presents. I learnt how to cook a turkey. I got some special moments with my family. And as if that wasn’t enough I got completely awesome food just to top it off. And yet my favourite moment of my entire day is right now.

As I lie here typing on my laptop, listening to music on a sound system I got from my parents, I am joined by my two very favourite people on the planet. My sister lies next to me, cuddled up into a ball with her head resting gently on my shoulder and my sunburnt little brother lies next to her snoring as loudly as his little lungs can manage. Yes, this is my Christmas and I have enjoyed every second of it.

So to all of you, I wish only the best of Christmas wishes. I hope that your day is as special as mine and I hope that those of you spending it with family take a moment to realize how lucky you are to be surrounded by the people you love because it is a privilege that we often take for granted but a privilege nonetheless.

Boycotting the Propaganda

The holidays have arrived, bringing with it way too much food, chocolate and a near torturous amount of time with the family. And then there is the inevitable religious propaganda; from Christmas carols to washing cutlery and crockery on the beach, December brings together all kinds of traditions, most of which are based in religion.

This makes it difficult for the rest of us, because while we may love to get caught up in the festivities that this time of the year brings, we don’t have anything to base it on, but does this really mean that we should skip out on family time, delicious traditional foods and showing our appreciation by buying those we love little (or not so little) presents?

Well, the other day my sister and I were dragged, rather unwillingly, to a carol service. I managed to convince myself it wouldn’t be that bad because I love music, especially when it’s performed live and I’d already been informed that one of the singers had an amazing voice.

Admittedly, the music was good, and the relief I felt when someone brought out a trumpet was unsurpassable. Also, the singer happened to be amazing and her voice reminded me of the likes of Sarah McLachlan. So not all bad then.

I also told myself that it would just be carols and not much preaching.

I couldn’t have been more horrified when the preacher went on for what felt like an age about God, the bible and Jesus, all in Afrikaans.

For two hours I sat there feeling completely out of my depth.

And then, right when I thought that I had wasted a perfectly good evening, when I could have just stayed at home and put some of Sarah’s hits on, some Afrikaans oomie with a ‘Mr McCarthy’ moustache came on stage. Well, knock me over with a feather, this guy could sing. And I don’t mean that semi-pleasurable kind of singing. I mean that goosebumps running up the back of your neck kind of singing.

So not a complete fail of an evening then.

But still, I don’t see why on earth I should have to attend a Christmas carol evening, in order to enjoy Christmas. I mean if it hadn’t been for Mr Goosebumps’ amazing voice that evening would have completely ruined my Christmas spirit. So if I just want to pick a random day and use it to give my super awesome sisterling presents then who are you to tell me that I may not?

I am boycotting religion this Christmas… because I can!

 

Family Man

I doubt that any man ever questioned my dad’s intelligence. His methods, maybe. His parenting skills, well hell, I was pretty convinced he didn’t have any for a while. But his intelligence? No.

At my dad’s memorial service a lot of people got the chance to express their opinions about him. His oldest friends spoke of a man I knew very little about; a younger, more care free version of my dad. But still they spoke of his intelligence. His newer friends spoke of the pure success of my father and also his keen intellect. My dad was a successful man; an opportunist.

And us? Well, we spoke of all his little habits, all the things that we teased him about, all the things that we knew we’d miss the most; sayings, songs and irritating little tendencies. And for ten months now I have only been missing those things.

That was until the other day.

I was sitting in our old ‘ska donkla’ of a bakkie, next to my mom. We were rattling up and down over the dust road that leads to Komati Gorge, the lodge my dad and my step-mom created. As usual my mom and I chattered away happily. I didn’t tell her, but I think she knew that I was a little apprehensive about heading back there, after all this farm was as close to a home as I ever got.

Having divorced parents who share custody and being in boarding school isn’t exactly conducive to getting settled in.

This farm was my dad’s creation and a huge part of him went into making this lodge the beautiful, successful haven that it is.

But as we rounded the last corner, and I saw the lodge buildings surrounded by green grass and beautiful flower beds gently scattered around the river and the trout dam, I caught my breath. It was just as stunning as ever. I knew then I had nothing to fear.

The lodge is now run by two wonderful managers and we hardly ever come here anymore, but there are still traces of our family. Family photos on the walls, our dogs’ paw prints in the concrete, my step-mom’s amazing ability to match colours and textures. It took a trip back here for me to realize that this farm was a huge part of my life, and I had missed it.

Not only was this farm home but in every building, every dam and every flower bed I can see the pure genius that was my dad. Each little bit of this farm holds a memory for me; a memory of my dad, of our family.

Because he was, in his own kind of way, a brilliant man, a family man.

Cyber Sexy

Help! We are under attack. The cyber world has taken over!

Sounds like some hill-billy Amish woman who has just found out that her son has a cell phone (if you can still call a Nokia 3310 a cell phone) and is now freaking out because she thinks her son has some disease. But no, this time it is from me, who happens to be typing this on a new computer and publishing it on the internet.

Generally I am very pro-technology. I love that I can research different countries from the comfort of my bed and contact friends in other countries, but due to certain events in the past week or so I must say I am completely against the idea of ‘cyber-love’.

About a week ago some random guy invited me on Facebook. Uncharacteristically I decided to accept the invite seeing as the guy was from Stellenbosch and I may have met him out one night and due to my drunken state forgotten about it. I was expecting that, as with most Facebook ‘friends’, that he’d probably stalk my profile once and I’d never hear about it again.

Unfortunately not. For an entire week I have been dealing with constant messages asking personal questions that quite frankly I don’t care to answer. And that’s not even the worst part. He’s not even a first year yet. As if I want to deal with the crap of some younger guy who spent his entire matric vacation texting me like some stupid love sick puppy. I mean really?

And then he had the audacity to ‘like’ a photo of me that was taken about four years ago. Seriously dude, get a life!

Then, as if I wasn’t irritated enough already, a friend of mine went out one night and his friend decided it was a good idea to message me off my mates phone. I didn’t think much of it, until he asked me what I was wearing and for photos. How nauseating. As if I want to deal with pathetic, pig-headed, sex-obsessed assholes like that? Did he really think that I was going to strip down and send him porno shots?

I mean really!

Now, I am pretty much addicted to my phone. I love being able to stay in contact with my mates and get hold of them whenever I need to. But that is where the addiction ends. I do not want to form cyber-friendships or get to know someone via some pathetic social network. Getting to know someone is something that has to be done in person.

Anyone who doesn’t see that is in my opinion completely pathetic and neigh on being psychopathic.

So if you’re hoping for some free porn or wanting some cyber attention because you have no life DO NOT text me!

By the way, if you’re a friend and looking to chat, I won’t have signal for a week so don’t bother either.