Bonjour, Father Christmas, The Oodie, Poor Clares, Manifest Nonsense, Xmas Jokes

... But if the French are once again expelling our English words from their soil ("vintage", "fast fashion" and even "designer" were given their marching orders last night and ferried across the Channel at gunpoint), then I am calling for a suitable diplomatic response, in the form of tit-for-tat expulsions of French words from English.

La falaise a Fecamp, France
Claude Monet (1840-1926)
Photo Credit: Aberdeen Art Gallery & Museums [CC BY-NC]

... I've had enough of  "bonhomie" too, which only means "drunkenness", about which there is nothing bon at all. Oh, and "bon viveur" which only ever meant a fat, handsy, old lech who wouldn't live past 60. It is a typically French concept and totally irrelevant in the Britain of 2020, where we've all got to lose weight, get sober, stay in and shut up.

And they can have back "jus" too. It's bloody gravy, mate. And I'm bored with feeling compelled by the gods of comedy, every time a waiter comes to the table and says, "Jus?", to reply, "Yes I am, but not practising, and I'm OK for gravy, thanks."

On my watch "entrepreneur" will be handed back... "je ne sais quoi", because if you don't know, shut up; "chic", because I'm not and don't want to be; "avant garde" because art was fine how it was; "cinéaste" because they're only movies, mon ami, and nobody cares; "salon", because a load of failed artists sliming up to an oligarch's wife doesn't deserve a word of its own, and "trompe l'oeil" because painting a pretend garden on a kitchen wall and calling it something French does not distract from its fundamental dishonesty. In fact, it adds to it.

I'm also sending back "déjà vu" (or have I already said that?), "voilà!" because we've already got the perfectly good English word, "eureka!", "deja vu", and "le coq sportif", because it's just rude.

I'd also like to do away with "roué", which is French for "old groper" I cannot believe there is a rouè left out there without a #MeToo case pending...

I actually quite liked "idiot savant" until we elected one for our prime minister, who then turned out not to "savoir" anything...

(Giles Coren, The Times, 2020)

*The French are not showing "le fighting spirit" to defend their language against English invasion, the guardian of the Gallic tongue says.

Helene Carrere d'Encausse, 91, head of the Academie Francaise, fired a broadside in Le Figaro newspaper at the linguistic fashion for leading Parisians to abandon old-fashioned French in favour of jargon that aped trends in the English-speaking world.

The phenomenon of Franglais is not new. Common examples include "un camping", a campsite, "un relooking", a makeover, and the self-explanatory "le weekend". Mrs Carrere d'Encausse said:

"There is an enormous gap between the way the elites talk and the passion for the French language to be found in the greater part of society. There is a desire to complicate the language and...show that you're prettifying it. The result is a disaster."

Mrs Carrere d'Encausse said that the fashion for saying "fake news" rather than fausse nouvelle was typical of the craze for trying to sound learned.

Other members of the 385-year old academy have criticised their secretary, elected in 1999, for rejecting the language's evolution.

Feminists are furious about her decree that Covid must carry the feminine grammatical gender, with "la" rather than "le".

(Charles Bremner, The Times, 2020)

C'est la guerre! Or should that now be le guerre?

Father Christmas

When the banker John Studzinski talks to the super-rich about the possibility of them sharing a touch more of their vast fortunes with worthy causes, "several - naming no names" have expressed the same reservation. "They say, 'But then my ranking and my rating on the Rich List will go down," he says, eyes twinkling with a mixture of urbane amusement and horror. "Isn't that shocking?"...

Christmas Cheer
Henry John Yeend King (1855-1924)
Photo Credit: Russell-Coates Art Gallery & Museum [CC BY-NC-ND]

A city superstar who had stints at Morgan Stanley, HSBC, Blackstone and is now vice-chairman of the investment managers Pimco, he reckons that he donates about half his vast earnings (rumoured to be £13 million a year at their peak), as well as volunteering in homeless shelters.

This week he announced that his Genesis Foundation, launched in 2001 to give people in the performing and visual arts their first break, was establishing a £1 million fund to aid freelancers whose careers had been scuppered by the pandemic.

"My philanthropy is very focused on human dignity and people like Simon Rattle told me. 'The most important thing is not just to support the freelancers but to actually give them real work.' he says.

The dignity theme underlines all of his charitable interests, from Riding for the Disabled to the homeless day-care centre The Passage and Arise, which combats human trafficking and slavery. Yet he also believes that volunteering would help the younger generation to boost their self-worth.

"It's really about inculcating children - from maybe the ages of six or eight - in being able to give. I've taken children of about ten to shelters to dish out food to a homeless person. They realise they're doing a proper job and develop a great sense of self-esteem from being given responsibility at an early age"...

He adds: "I still have a strong belief that nothing is worth having unless you share it with others, that the shroud has no pockets and that we shouldn't be attached too many things, which in my case are my faith and my loved ones."

(Julia Llewellyn Smith, The Times, 2020)

How good to hear about a benevolent banker and what an interesting idea to involve children in dishing out food to homeless people. 

The Oodie

The Virgin
Russian School
Photo Credit:York Museums Trust [Public Domain]

Every Autumn a piece of novelty clothing appears, covering the wearer from head to toe, wrapping them in a feeling of embryonic safety... And this year we have the Oodie.

Resembling a blanket with a hood and featuring versions covered in doodles of unicorns, cartoon avocados, sloths, pizzas and in shades of tie-dye, it might look like a twee gimmick but its selling point is its comfort level...

Items like the Oodie and weighted blankets, which offer a simulacrum of touching, can appeal to those who feel deprived of physical contact in the pandemic. Just as people are watching ASMR (autonomous sensory meridian response) videos to help with their anxiety and buying candles and diffusers that evoke familiar fragrances, they are pivoting to items like the Oodie to give themselves tactile sensations of wellbeing.

Karen Iorio Adelson, senior writer at The Strategist, a product website said:

"I definitely think more and more people are seeking that 'tight hug' feeling. Plus, with the pandemic, many of us are isolated from loved ones so we might need to get that tactile release."

Professor Carolyn Mair, behavioural psychologist and author of The Psychology of Fashion, adds:

"We are turning to our clothes to give us that reassurance and replace the looseness we felt in previous times, when we took socialising and physical touching for granted. Soft clothes can help us feel physically and psychologically safe."

(Priya Elan, The Observer, 2020)

So there we have it. Today I will be watching ASMR videos, lighting candles and wearing my Oodie so that I can lessen my anxiety, enjoy tactile sensations of wellbeing and release and also to feel physically and psychologically safe. Magic. But if the Oodie doesn't appeal how about a duvet coat?

... the duvet coat, a long, puffer-style cocoon that is more than a jacket. Soft and padded, cosy and water resistant, it is a place to hide in plain sight, a sanctuary against the world and the weather.

With so many of us unable to socialise indoors, these coats have become a topic of fevered discussion on social media. ("Everyone get yourself a duvet coat. I am so warm and cosy life almost feels worth living," says one fan on twitter.) Could this be the answer to the coming Covid winter?

Well, yes, but not all duvet coats are equal. Some are eye-wateringly expensive. Some look the part, but don't protect from the elements. Many are filled with down, and so are out of bounds for vegans. And they are not universally flattering. There is a real chance of looking like an Arsene Wenger meme or an over-inflated tyre...

(Hannah Marriott, The Guardian, 2020)

So there we are. Which type of nonsense do you prefer? Perhaps Canada Goose, which sells status duvet coats for about £895. But don't forget that you must also think about the "remaining focal points when the coat is done up."

"Try cropped trousers with boots - a chunky soled biker pair would work really well, or sports or  hiking socks with trainers and slimline jogging bottoms... You could also wear a snood, or a roll-neck, to bring colour to the other visible part of your body: your neck. Plus ... It's obvious to go for black but I think a khaki green, beige or burgundy is much nicer, especially if you layer it with other colours."

The Poor Clares

A Nun
unknown artist
Photo Credit: Wellcome Collection [Public Domain]

The Poor Clares - who wear long brown habits, beige coloured veils and sandals - practise a kind of ancient mindfulness: they focus on the present, and other than visits to the doctor or dentist, they stay within the confines of their monastery. At the height of the lockdown, says Sister Leo,... people would contact her to ask for advice on how to cope with having to stay in the same place, day after day.

"I always said the same thing: pay attention to regularity in your life, and do things by a timetable. That's how it works for us. And I think it's helped others when I've said, 'We live like this the whole time, and we have done for many years.'"...

What's different about life in the community isn't that nuns are a different species, they explain, but they've bought into a simpler life. In a complex upside-down world, could it be that their daily routine has wisdom to impart to the rest of us?

The sisters rise at 5.30am (5am in summer) to embark on a day that follows more or less the same structure Poor Clares and other monastic orders have followed for hundreds of years. After breakfast and an hour's meditation the nuns gather in their chapel for prayers and, two days a week, for mass.

"Then we have a period for work, which might be anything from cooking to working in the vegetable garden, to doing our paid work, which is spiritual direction - we've switched that to Zoom," she says.

Lunch, the main meal of the day, is eaten in silence while one sister reads aloud from a spiritual text; the same happens at supper, but the text is what Gabriel describes as "a lighter book - it might be a biography, for example". After lunch comes a rest period and more work, before (on three days of the week) "recreation", where the sisters are free to chat and catch up with one another's news.

"The thing about structure is, it helps you to use your time more wisely," says Sister Gabriel. "We often waste time: if you've got an eight hour window for work, you dissipate and end up on the phone or computer. But if you've only got two hours, it forces you to use the time wisely. Structure creates space, to achieve what you want, and simply be."...

"We're very careful about waste - anything not eaten at lunch one day will be supper the next. And we share with others - we support the local food bank... We've not felt called to be on Twitter...We've taken a vow of poverty and we don't own anything. And we believe that's what needs to happen with the world. We all need to use less, so people with less can have more."

(Joanna Moorhead, The Observer, 2020)

The importance of structure, silence and sharing, in the lives of the Poor Clares, have lessons for us all. Their simple life contrasts sharply with the hurly-burly of much of modern day living though I'm not so sure they would welcome their lifestyle to be construed as a form of "ancient mindfulness".

Manifesting Nonsense

Life's Illusions
George Frederick Watts ( 1817- 1904)
Photo Credit: Tate [CC BY-NC-ND]

There's a fancy name for everything these days. Skipped breakfast? Congratulations, you are intermittently fasting. Ate some vegetables? Turns out you are eating clean. Chewed those vegetables slowly while thinking about life, the universe and everything? Look at you, practising mindfulness!

Have you spent the past few months desperately hoping this pandemic would go away, but in the meantime you have become a fantastically wealthy novelist? Well, you may have been "manifesting".

All the cool kids are "manifesting" these days, apparently... But what exactly does "manifesting" mean?.. According to a recent article in British Vogue by Giselle La Pompe-Moore:

"Manifesting is the materialisation of a thought or belief into physical form, based on the idea that our mind is a powerful tool for creation." In other words it is daydreaming while being deluded that those daydreams might come true...

When the world feels as if it is spinning out of control, the idea that we might be able simply to think our way to better circumstances is alluring. And, to be fair, it is not implausible. There is plenty of evidence, for example, that placebo pills can be effective... However, while it appears possible to manifest lower blood pressure, it is impossible to think your way to a world in which Donald Tump loses the US election to Jane Fonda and Boris Johnson retires from public life to paint model buses. Believe me, I have been trying.

(Arwa Mahdawi, The Guardian, 2020)

Xmas Jokes

...Every few years another (Cracker) manufacturer solemnly bans mother-in-law jokes or dumb blonde gags. Indeed all sexual innuendo is risky at the Christmas table: safer are jokes about Elf and Safety, or snowmen commuting on icicle lanes.

The Nativity seems jokeable these days: my latest favourite is Mary and Joseph finding "No Zoom at the Inn".

"What sort of meal waits outside a hairdressers? A barber-queue!"

"Who hides in a bakery? A mince spy!"

For in this tremulous age of hate speech, ever fewer jokes pass the cultural sensitivity test. Ask what noise cows make at the North Pole and the reply "An Eski-moo!" will get you into trouble with the young, who are increasingly wokely indignant on behalf of indigenous peoples everywhere.

And avoid even the more culturally-correct gag where the igloo is locked "so nobody can get In-u-it!"

The once-jolly one about the snowman's headgear ("An ice cap!") now risks a global warming lecture.

"Where is Felixstowe? At the end of Felix's foot!" may offend disability extremists, as may an innocent jest about sick insects going to "the waspital".

(What about) the "dyslexic Devil-worshipper who sold his soul to Santa". Cue outrage from parents of differently-abled readers...

I like the... one about how many Leave voters it takes to change a lightbulb - "One to remove the bulb and 17,410,741 to sit in the dark telling everyone else to get over themselves." Or The Irish Times's "What is Arlene Foster sick of talking about?  The bored-her"...

Or even more topical, "Why does Prince Harry want to be a raindrop? Because he longs to reign over us." Deep groans, after all, are good for promoting digestion.

(Libby Purves, The Times, 2020)