Brenda Edwards TSV - For Rowan, hoping to bring a smile to your face at this difficult time.

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Almerinda

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Wednesday the 21st of February - two weeks before the Brenda Edwards TSV.

The TSV fashion coordinator and team are in a conference room at QVC towers to discuss Brenda Edwards’ first TSV. Order is called and, amidst much scraping of chair legs and slopping of hot beverages from QVC mugs onto the table top, a sort of silence ensues. Biscuits, left over from Christmas stock and well past their sell by dates, are passed around.

‘Okay everyone, let’s get started’ says the TSV fashion coordinator clapping her hands and raising her voice to blot out the munching. ‘I’d like to draw your attention to the mannequin wearing Brenda Edwards’ very first TSV.’ Heads turn to look at the tatty headless mannequin in the corner sporting a rather lurid jumpsuit complete with tie belt. ‘Who is Brenda Edwards anyway?’ someone mutters sotto voce, ‘I think she’s a friend of Ruth Langsford’s.’ is the whispered reply, ‘but more importantly, who dressed that poor mannequin? If it had eyes, they’d be watering’. There are sniggers. As well as proving that you don’t have to be human to have a camel toe, the polyester and elastane garment was all rucked up and twisted with the belt tied tightly around the mannequin’s ‘neck’ in a lop sided but apparently very on trend pussy-bow. ‘Did one of the models dress it then?’ More sniggers. ‘Or Catherine Huntley’ says someone else ‘remember when she put both of her legs into one leg of that Ongenu jumpsuit!!’

The coordinator tries again. ‘The jumpsuit is available in five options with the bottom half in a solid colour for the less adventurous customers who don’t really want to look like an upholstered chair but who do like to have their cellulite admired by all and sundry. My question is, which of the presenters is going to be given the honour of wearing the garment at the launch?’

Heads are scratched and cheeks puffed out. ‘Well’ says someone, ‘it can’t be Jackie because she and Ruth are joined at the hip so we need someone else, preferably as un-Jacky as possible.’ ‘We have to rule out a few people from the get-go’ says the coordinator. ‘There are some presenters who can’t do the midnight shift either because they have babies or because they just nod off that late at night’. ‘That rules out Katherine and Eilidh cos they have babies’ someone says. ‘And Chloe’ says another voice. ‘Anne has a bit of difficulty keeping awake these days so it can’t be her’. ‘How about Charlie Brooks?’ pipes up a voice. ‘He won’t really want to wear the jumpsuit will he?’ says someone. ‘I didn’t mean that he’d have to wear it you numpty, he’d just co-present with Bren.’ ‘Pity. He’s nice and tall so he could carry it off and perhaps do one of his slow reveals!!’ is the reply.

‘Well’ says the coordinator attempting to get the situation under control ‘it looks like it’s going to be one of the usual midnight suspects then; Jill Franks, Jilly Halliday or Debbie Flint.’ There are groans then someone pipes up ‘Can’t be Jill!.’ ‘Why not? There isn’t a green option is there?’ ‘No, but there is a clause in her contract stating that over a 28-day period she doesn’t have to wear more than one tasteless polyester garment and she did the Bendy Lisi TSV not long ago.’ ‘Pity, as she is slim and it’s always fun to see her in something she has to pretend to like’. ‘Yeah, but the jumpsuit has two sleeves and can’t be worn with leggings, so she’s out.’ ‘Debs Flint then, she’ll wear anything and she’ll get on with Brenda’. ‘Naw, Debbie is down at Sheep-Dip doing a writing course so she’s not an option.’ There is a longish silence and then someone says ‘How about Ophelia, or Ali K - they look good in anything.’ ‘No, Ali’s not around at the mo and didn’t you know that Ophelia is going on holiday to Egypt?’ ‘That leaves poor Jilly then…… who’s going to ask her?’ More silence. ‘She’s going to be upset..... she did that dreadful Frank Usher monstrosity a few days ago and then that Finery dress which she actually didn’t look too bad in’. ‘Jilly it is then, I’ll go and speak to her now’ sighs the coordinator and slopes off unwilling leaving the others to pack up their stuff and go.

In one of the rooms flanking the conference room Julia Roberts and Alex Kramer are listening in with QVC tumblers pressed against their respective ears and the wall. ‘Great!’ says Julia triumphantly as they leave the room and walk away, ‘we got away with it, they didn’t even mention us!’ ‘No’ says Alex as they exchange a high-five and follow the coordinator towards the dressing rooms, ‘they didn’t did they!’ Their footsteps slow down and they glance at each other with worried expressions. ‘They didn’t even mention us…….’ They say in hushed union.

In the room on the other side of the conference room Miceal Murphy slowly removes his QVC tumbler from the wall and turns sadly away. ‘They are never going to ask me are they Glenn?’ he says to Mr. Campbell who is sitting at a table studying Men’s Vogue. ‘I’ve told them I’d be happy to wear the TSV’s and I love a jumpsuit’ Miceal says on the verge of tears. Glenn stands up, adjusts his trouser legs so that they sit exactly an inch about his ankle bone and pats Miceal on the shoulder in a comforting manner, ‘Give it time Miceal’ he says kindly, ‘just give it time.’​
 
Wednesday the 21st of February - two weeks before the Brenda Edwards TSV.

The TSV fashion coordinator and team are in a conference room at QVC towers to discuss Brenda Edwards’ first TSV. Order is called and, amidst much scraping of chair legs and slopping of hot beverages from QVC mugs onto the table top, a sort of silence ensues. Biscuits, left over from Christmas stock and well past their sell by dates, are passed around.

‘Okay everyone, let’s get started’ says the TSV fashion coordinator clapping her hands and raising her voice to blot out the munching. ‘I’d like to draw your attention to the mannequin wearing Brenda Edwards’ very first TSV.’ Heads turn to look at the tatty headless mannequin in the corner sporting a rather lurid jumpsuit complete with tie belt. ‘Who is Brenda Edwards anyway?’ someone mutters sotto voce, ‘I think she’s a friend of Ruth Langsford’s.’ is the whispered reply, ‘but more importantly, who dressed that poor mannequin? If it had eyes, they’d be watering’. There are sniggers. As well as proving that you don’t have to be human to have a camel toe, the polyester and elastane garment was all rucked up and twisted with the belt tied tightly around the mannequin’s ‘neck’ in a lop sided but apparently very on trend pussy-bow. ‘Did one of the models dress it then?’ More sniggers. ‘Or Catherine Huntley’ says someone else ‘remember when she put both of her legs into one leg of that Ongenu jumpsuit!!’

The coordinator tries again. ‘The jumpsuit is available in five options with the bottom half in a solid colour for the less adventurous customers who don’t really want to look like an upholstered chair but who do like to have their cellulite admired by all and sundry. My question is, which of the presenters is going to be given the honour of wearing the garment at the launch?’

Heads are scratched and cheeks puffed out. ‘Well’ says someone, ‘it can’t be Jackie because she and Ruth are joined at the hip so we need someone else, preferably as un-Jacky as possible.’ ‘We have to rule out a few people from the get-go’ says the coordinator. ‘There are some presenters who can’t do the midnight shift either because they have babies or because they just nod off that late at night’. ‘That rules out Katherine and Eilidh cos they have babies’ someone says. ‘And Chloe’ says another voice. ‘Anne has a bit of difficulty keeping awake these days so it can’t be her’. ‘How about Charlie Brooks?’ pipes up a voice. ‘He won’t really want to wear the jumpsuit will he?’ says someone. ‘I didn’t mean that he’d have to wear it you numpty, he’d just co-present with Bren.’ ‘Pity. He’s nice and tall so he could carry it off and perhaps do one of his slow reveals!!’ is the reply.

‘Well’ says the coordinator attempting to get the situation under control ‘it looks like it’s going to be one of the usual midnight suspects then; Jill Franks, Jilly Halliday or Debbie Flint.’ There are groans then someone pipes up ‘Can’t be Jill!.’ ‘Why not? There isn’t a green option is there?’ ‘No, but there is a clause in her contract stating that over a 28-day period she doesn’t have to wear more than one tasteless polyester garment and she did the Bendy Lisi TSV not long ago.’ ‘Pity, as she is slim and it’s always fun to see her in something she has to pretend to like’. ‘Yeah, but the jumpsuit has two sleeves and can’t be worn with leggings, so she’s out.’ ‘Debs Flint then, she’ll wear anything and she’ll get on with Brenda’. ‘Naw, Debbie is down at Sheep-Dip doing a writing course so she’s not an option.’ There is a longish silence and then someone says ‘How about Ophelia, or Ali K - they look good in anything.’ ‘No, Ali’s not around at the mo and didn’t you know that Ophelia is going on holiday to Egypt?’ ‘That leaves poor Jilly then…… who’s going to ask her?’ More silence. ‘She’s going to be upset..... she did that dreadful Frank Usher monstrosity a few days ago and then that Finery dress which she actually didn’t look too bad in’. ‘Jilly it is then, I’ll go and speak to her now’ sighs the coordinator and slopes off unwilling leaving the others to pack up their stuff and go.

In one of the rooms flanking the conference room Julia Roberts and Alex Kramer are listening in with QVC tumblers pressed against their respective ears and the wall. ‘Great!’ says Julia triumphantly as they leave the room and walk away, ‘we got away with it, they didn’t even mention us!’ ‘No’ says Alex as they exchange a high-five and follow the coordinator towards the dressing rooms, ‘they didn’t did they!’ Their footsteps slow down and they glance at each other with worried expressions. ‘They didn’t even mention us…….’ They say in hushed union.

In the room on the other side of the conference room Miceal Murphy slowly removes his QVC tumbler from the wall and turns sadly away. ‘They are never going to ask me are they Glenn?’ he says to Mr. Campbell who is sitting at a table studying Men’s Vogue. ‘I’ve told them I’d be happy to wear the TSV’s and I love a jumpsuit’ Miceal says on the verge of tears. Glenn stands up, adjusts his trouser legs so that they sit exactly an inch about his ankle bone and pats Miceal on the shoulder in a comforting manner, ‘Give it time Miceal’ he says kindly, ‘just give it time.’​
OMG! I remember someone alerting us all to a "wardrobe malfunction" of his during a jewellery show fairly recently - a pair of trousers in which there was no doubt upon which side he "dressed" - An image I could not unsee and not in a good way. Please don't suggest that he parades him self in polyester, it really doesn't bear thinking about!!!!! Thanks for the laugh Almerinda, otherwise spot on!
 
OMG! I remember someone alerting us all to a "wardrobe malfunction" of his during a jewellery show fairly recently - a pair of trousers in which there was no doubt upon which side he "dressed" - An image I could not unsee and not in a good way. Please don't suggest that he parades him self in polyester, it really doesn't bear thinking about!!!!! Thanks for the laugh Almerinda, otherwise spot on!
If you mean Charlie merryone, it's hardly a malfunction because he does it all the time. For gods sake man, wear some tighter underwear please, it cannot be that flaming difficult.
 
Wednesday the 21st of February - two weeks before the Brenda Edwards TSV.

The TSV fashion coordinator and team are in a conference room at QVC towers to discuss Brenda Edwards’ first TSV. Order is called and, amidst much scraping of chair legs and slopping of hot beverages from QVC mugs onto the table top, a sort of silence ensues. Biscuits, left over from Christmas stock and well past their sell by dates, are passed around.

‘Okay everyone, let’s get started’ says the TSV fashion coordinator clapping her hands and raising her voice to blot out the munching. ‘I’d like to draw your attention to the mannequin wearing Brenda Edwards’ very first TSV.’ Heads turn to look at the tatty headless mannequin in the corner sporting a rather lurid jumpsuit complete with tie belt. ‘Who is Brenda Edwards anyway?’ someone mutters sotto voce, ‘I think she’s a friend of Ruth Langsford’s.’ is the whispered reply, ‘but more importantly, who dressed that poor mannequin? If it had eyes, they’d be watering’. There are sniggers. As well as proving that you don’t have to be human to have a camel toe, the polyester and elastane garment was all rucked up and twisted with the belt tied tightly around the mannequin’s ‘neck’ in a lop sided but apparently very on trend pussy-bow. ‘Did one of the models dress it then?’ More sniggers. ‘Or Catherine Huntley’ says someone else ‘remember when she put both of her legs into one leg of that Ongenu jumpsuit!!’

The coordinator tries again. ‘The jumpsuit is available in five options with the bottom half in a solid colour for the less adventurous customers who don’t really want to look like an upholstered chair but who do like to have their cellulite admired by all and sundry. My question is, which of the presenters is going to be given the honour of wearing the garment at the launch?’

Heads are scratched and cheeks puffed out. ‘Well’ says someone, ‘it can’t be Jackie because she and Ruth are joined at the hip so we need someone else, preferably as un-Jacky as possible.’ ‘We have to rule out a few people from the get-go’ says the coordinator. ‘There are some presenters who can’t do the midnight shift either because they have babies or because they just nod off that late at night’. ‘That rules out Katherine and Eilidh cos they have babies’ someone says. ‘And Chloe’ says another voice. ‘Anne has a bit of difficulty keeping awake these days so it can’t be her’. ‘How about Charlie Brooks?’ pipes up a voice. ‘He won’t really want to wear the jumpsuit will he?’ says someone. ‘I didn’t mean that he’d have to wear it you numpty, he’d just co-present with Bren.’ ‘Pity. He’s nice and tall so he could carry it off and perhaps do one of his slow reveals!!’ is the reply.

‘Well’ says the coordinator attempting to get the situation under control ‘it looks like it’s going to be one of the usual midnight suspects then; Jill Franks, Jilly Halliday or Debbie Flint.’ There are groans then someone pipes up ‘Can’t be Jill!.’ ‘Why not? There isn’t a green option is there?’ ‘No, but there is a clause in her contract stating that over a 28-day period she doesn’t have to wear more than one tasteless polyester garment and she did the Bendy Lisi TSV not long ago.’ ‘Pity, as she is slim and it’s always fun to see her in something she has to pretend to like’. ‘Yeah, but the jumpsuit has two sleeves and can’t be worn with leggings, so she’s out.’ ‘Debs Flint then, she’ll wear anything and she’ll get on with Brenda’. ‘Naw, Debbie is down at Sheep-Dip doing a writing course so she’s not an option.’ There is a longish silence and then someone says ‘How about Ophelia, or Ali K - they look good in anything.’ ‘No, Ali’s not around at the mo and didn’t you know that Ophelia is going on holiday to Egypt?’ ‘That leaves poor Jilly then…… who’s going to ask her?’ More silence. ‘She’s going to be upset..... she did that dreadful Frank Usher monstrosity a few days ago and then that Finery dress which she actually didn’t look too bad in’. ‘Jilly it is then, I’ll go and speak to her now’ sighs the coordinator and slopes off unwilling leaving the others to pack up their stuff and go.

In one of the rooms flanking the conference room Julia Roberts and Alex Kramer are listening in with QVC tumblers pressed against their respective ears and the wall. ‘Great!’ says Julia triumphantly as they leave the room and walk away, ‘we got away with it, they didn’t even mention us!’ ‘No’ says Alex as they exchange a high-five and follow the coordinator towards the dressing rooms, ‘they didn’t did they!’ Their footsteps slow down and they glance at each other with worried expressions. ‘They didn’t even mention us…….’ They say in hushed union.

In the room on the other side of the conference room Miceal Murphy slowly removes his QVC tumbler from the wall and turns sadly away. ‘They are never going to ask me are they Glenn?’ he says to Mr. Campbell who is sitting at a table studying Men’s Vogue. ‘I’ve told them I’d be happy to wear the TSV’s and I love a jumpsuit’ Miceal says on the verge of tears. Glenn stands up, adjusts his trouser legs so that they sit exactly an inch about his ankle bone and pats Miceal on the shoulder in a comforting manner, ‘Give it time Miceal’ he says kindly, ‘just give it time.’​
That made me laugh out loud, thank you!
 
Wednesday the 21st of February - two weeks before the Brenda Edwards TSV.

The TSV fashion coordinator and team are in a conference room at QVC towers to discuss Brenda Edwards’ first TSV. Order is called and, amidst much scraping of chair legs and slopping of hot beverages from QVC mugs onto the table top, a sort of silence ensues. Biscuits, left over from Christmas stock and well past their sell by dates, are passed around.

‘Okay everyone, let’s get started’ says the TSV fashion coordinator clapping her hands and raising her voice to blot out the munching. ‘I’d like to draw your attention to the mannequin wearing Brenda Edwards’ very first TSV.’ Heads turn to look at the tatty headless mannequin in the corner sporting a rather lurid jumpsuit complete with tie belt. ‘Who is Brenda Edwards anyway?’ someone mutters sotto voce, ‘I think she’s a friend of Ruth Langsford’s.’ is the whispered reply, ‘but more importantly, who dressed that poor mannequin? If it had eyes, they’d be watering’. There are sniggers. As well as proving that you don’t have to be human to have a camel toe, the polyester and elastane garment was all rucked up and twisted with the belt tied tightly around the mannequin’s ‘neck’ in a lop sided but apparently very on trend pussy-bow. ‘Did one of the models dress it then?’ More sniggers. ‘Or Catherine Huntley’ says someone else ‘remember when she put both of her legs into one leg of that Ongenu jumpsuit!!’

The coordinator tries again. ‘The jumpsuit is available in five options with the bottom half in a solid colour for the less adventurous customers who don’t really want to look like an upholstered chair but who do like to have their cellulite admired by all and sundry. My question is, which of the presenters is going to be given the honour of wearing the garment at the launch?’

Heads are scratched and cheeks puffed out. ‘Well’ says someone, ‘it can’t be Jackie because she and Ruth are joined at the hip so we need someone else, preferably as un-Jacky as possible.’ ‘We have to rule out a few people from the get-go’ says the coordinator. ‘There are some presenters who can’t do the midnight shift either because they have babies or because they just nod off that late at night’. ‘That rules out Katherine and Eilidh cos they have babies’ someone says. ‘And Chloe’ says another voice. ‘Anne has a bit of difficulty keeping awake these days so it can’t be her’. ‘How about Charlie Brooks?’ pipes up a voice. ‘He won’t really want to wear the jumpsuit will he?’ says someone. ‘I didn’t mean that he’d have to wear it you numpty, he’d just co-present with Bren.’ ‘Pity. He’s nice and tall so he could carry it off and perhaps do one of his slow reveals!!’ is the reply.

‘Well’ says the coordinator attempting to get the situation under control ‘it looks like it’s going to be one of the usual midnight suspects then; Jill Franks, Jilly Halliday or Debbie Flint.’ There are groans then someone pipes up ‘Can’t be Jill!.’ ‘Why not? There isn’t a green option is there?’ ‘No, but there is a clause in her contract stating that over a 28-day period she doesn’t have to wear more than one tasteless polyester garment and she did the Bendy Lisi TSV not long ago.’ ‘Pity, as she is slim and it’s always fun to see her in something she has to pretend to like’. ‘Yeah, but the jumpsuit has two sleeves and can’t be worn with leggings, so she’s out.’ ‘Debs Flint then, she’ll wear anything and she’ll get on with Brenda’. ‘Naw, Debbie is down at Sheep-Dip doing a writing course so she’s not an option.’ There is a longish silence and then someone says ‘How about Ophelia, or Ali K - they look good in anything.’ ‘No, Ali’s not around at the mo and didn’t you know that Ophelia is going on holiday to Egypt?’ ‘That leaves poor Jilly then…… who’s going to ask her?’ More silence. ‘She’s going to be upset..... she did that dreadful Frank Usher monstrosity a few days ago and then that Finery dress which she actually didn’t look too bad in’. ‘Jilly it is then, I’ll go and speak to her now’ sighs the coordinator and slopes off unwilling leaving the others to pack up their stuff and go.

In one of the rooms flanking the conference room Julia Roberts and Alex Kramer are listening in with QVC tumblers pressed against their respective ears and the wall. ‘Great!’ says Julia triumphantly as they leave the room and walk away, ‘we got away with it, they didn’t even mention us!’ ‘No’ says Alex as they exchange a high-five and follow the coordinator towards the dressing rooms, ‘they didn’t did they!’ Their footsteps slow down and they glance at each other with worried expressions. ‘They didn’t even mention us…….’ They say in hushed union.

In the room on the other side of the conference room Miceal Murphy slowly removes his QVC tumbler from the wall and turns sadly away. ‘They are never going to ask me are they Glenn?’ he says to Mr. Campbell who is sitting at a table studying Men’s Vogue. ‘I’ve told them I’d be happy to wear the TSV’s and I love a jumpsuit’ Miceal says on the verge of tears. Glenn stands up, adjusts his trouser legs so that they sit exactly an inch about his ankle bone and pats Miceal on the shoulder in a comforting manner, ‘Give it time Miceal’ he says kindly, ‘just give it time.’​
Pure gold!
 
Monday the 6th of March 20.45 – 15 minutes prior to Brenda Edwards TSV launch

Ruth Langsford and her best QVC friend Jackie Kabler are in Ruth’s ‘atelier’ aka dining room. Sitting around the table are a number of Ruth’s fans; Rockbun, Geraldine the beekeeper, a lady with a cold who’s never been to Pisa and a chap called Brad Greenfern. They are all consuming interesting drinks – Bratwurst gin with meat and potato tonic for the girls and Boysenberry vodka with a dash of marmite for Brad. There are bowls on the table filled with soft mints and Parma violet sweets along with a few Peppa Pig shaped chewy things.​

Ruth is clearly worried, Jackie is holding her hand across the table. ‘It’ll be alright Ruth’ Jackie soothes ‘Brenda is never going to reach your dizzy heights of success and that frightful jumpsuit is going to be languishing in the QVC warehouse for ages along with that Marla Wynne chiffon bomber jacket we keep trying to flog in every fashion hour.’ The fans murmur their agreement and wait for the presentation to start. The intro begins and there are Jilly and Brenda, cheerful and upbeat as always. Twenty minutes pass and the models twirl and stomp off and on a small circular podium. ‘They’ve recycled that from the now defunct Gok’s closet hours’ mutters Jackie. Ruth cracks a smile; she got rid of Gok and his daft Woolly Loo range, so getting rid of Brenda is going to be a breeze. That Dannii though, she’s going to be tougher one to get rid of….

‘Well, what do you all think?’ says Ruth as the presentation ends. Ghastly, awful, hideous is the consensus. ‘What about you Brad? You aren’t saying much (pause) are you listening to me?’ asks Ruth. Brad looks up, a bit peevishly, and surreptitiously stuffs his smartphone in the kangaroo pouch of his ‘I ❤️ Ruth’ hoodie. ‘You are tapping the app aren’t you?’ Ruth explodes ‘You have ordered that travesty of a garment for a loved one haven’t you? Admit it!!! Admit it Brad! (snuffly pause) Oh how could you?’ she quietly sobs. Brad nods his head and looks ashamed of himself. ‘Get out!!? says Ruth ‘Get out and go and join Eamon and Maggie in my spacious reception room and watch the re-runs of 'Das Boot' in German with sub-titles. I can’t even bear to look at you!’ There are gasps and sympathetic sounds all round as Brad slopes off to watch the Teutonic telly with husband and dog.

Meanwhile, back at QVC towers, Pippa and Katy are having an end of shift cuppa in the canteen. ‘Thank goodness we got away with not having to present that one AND neither of us are on air tomorrow so phew!’ says Pips. ‘Phew indeed’ replies Katy ‘but you know what’s going to happen now don’t you?’ ‘No, what?’ says Pippa distractedly looking around the canteen. ‘Obviously, I’m going to have to wear the least popular version of that nasty jumpsuit on my Wednesday fashion show aren’t I!!’ ‘Yeah, yeah, yeah!’ cries Pippa in dismay. ‘Perhaps you should hand the show over to someone else with a name beginning with K’ she thoughtfully. The she looks around the canteen again and nods towards a large table of rowdy men all laughing and clearly having as wonderful time. ‘Look at ‘em!’ says Pippa ‘look at Dale and Simon and the two gardening chaps enjoying themselves and talking about power tools, plant pots and pansies!! They don’t have to sell horrendous articles of clothing; they can chat about bird seed and branch shredder, and they even get to eat and talk about food with that Andy Peters. They have it easy.’ She splutters in rage. ‘Yes’, says Katy ‘Yes indeed they do’.

At that moment Craig Rowe rocks up to the boys' table resplendent in a pair of stripy (albeit rather thin) cotton shorts and a sleeveless vest, fresh from a stint in ‘A place in the sun’. ‘Room for a little one?’ he chirps, trying to squeeze his bottom between Simon and Dale. Dale accommodates with grace, but Simon looks daggers at Craig whom he clearly dislikes. Perhaps because 20 years ago, he Simon Biagi, used to be on ‘real’ telly and is now reduced to insincere ramblings in a loud voice with the constant repetition of the same old tired lines, whilst Craig’s career is on the rise. However, he grits his teeth and shuffles up a bit. Just a bit. ‘Why are you in shorts Craigy?’ says Andy ‘It’s snowing outside, and you are doing a bit of a Charlie Brook if you know what I mean.’ ‘Oh crikey’ says Craigy ‘I’d better go and put on some firmer pants’, and he bounds off like a happy puppy to change his undies.

Meanwhile, around a table in a dark and secluded corner of the canteen, sit the three newbies sipping stale coffee. They watch Craig bounce out of the swinging doors with little interest. ‘When do you think we’ll be added to the website like the real presenters??’ whines Laura sadly ‘we don’t even get a mention, never mind a photograph, not even an out of date one!. It’s as if we don’t exist.’ ‘I know!’ says Rezzy with enthusiasm ‘and I really try to shout and make myself known’. Victoria nods in agreement ‘yes, you do shout a bit don’t you.’ ‘Even Annalise was on the website and she wasn’t around long before moving onto better things was she?’ says Laura. ‘What do you mean better things?’ asks Victoria, ‘she’s working at the Knowsley warehouse now, in the returns department.’ ‘NOO!’ says Rezzy, ‘that can’t be!’ ‘Yep’, says Victoria, ‘the old presenters get sent there but QVC pretend that they’ve gone off to drive a camper van around Europe or go canoeing in Outer Mongolia’. ‘You mean to say that Kathy Taylor is working at the warehouse?’ ‘Yeah, driving a fork lift truck apparently, and Claire Sutton is at the call centre dealing with complaints.’ The three sit in stunned silence for a moment. ‘Soooo’, says Laura slowly ‘was the incident with the coconut mushroom before Annalise’s time then?’ ‘You mean that isn't an urban myth?' says Rezzy, 'I love coconut mushrooms’ muses Victoria, ‘me too’ says Laura, ‘but not in the interior compartment of a handbag that is supposed to be new I don’t!’. They giggle together and, sipping the remnants of their foul coffee, they ponder on their future at QVC.​
 
Monday the 6th of March 20.45 – 15 minutes prior to Brenda Edwards TSV launch

Ruth Langsford and her best QVC friend Jackie Kabler are in Ruth’s ‘atelier’ aka dining room. Sitting around the table are a number of Ruth’s fans; Rockbun, Geraldine the beekeeper, a lady with a cold who’s never been to Pisa and a chap called Brad Greenfern. They are all consuming interesting drinks – Bratwurst gin with meat and potato tonic for the girls and Boysenberry vodka with a dash of marmite for Brad. There are bowls on the table filled with soft mints and Parma violet sweets along with a few Peppa Pig shaped chewy things.​

Ruth is clearly worried, Jackie is holding her hand across the table. ‘It’ll be alright Ruth’ Jackie soothes ‘Brenda is never going to reach your dizzy heights of success and that frightful jumpsuit is going to be languishing in the QVC warehouse for ages along with that Marla Wynne chiffon bomber jacket we keep trying to flog in every fashion hour.’ The fans murmur their agreement and wait for the presentation to start. The intro begins and there are Jilly and Brenda, cheerful and upbeat as always. Twenty minutes pass and the models twirl and stomp off and on a small circular podium. ‘They’ve recycled that from the now defunct Gok’s closet hours’ mutters Jackie. Ruth cracks a smile; she got rid of Gok and his daft Woolly Loo range, so getting rid of Brenda is going to be a breeze. That Dannii though, she’s going to be tougher one to get rid of….

‘Well, what do you all think?’ says Ruth as the presentation ends. Ghastly, awful, hideous is the consensus. ‘What about you Brad? You aren’t saying much (pause) are you listening to me?’ asks Ruth. Brad looks up, a bit peevishly, and surreptitiously stuffs his smartphone in the kangaroo pouch of his ‘I ❤️ Ruth’ hoodie. ‘You are tapping the app aren’t you?’ Ruth explodes ‘You have ordered that travesty of a garment for a loved one haven’t you? Admit it!!! Admit it Brad! (snuffly pause) Oh how could you?’ she quietly sobs. Brad nods his head and looks ashamed of himself. ‘Get out!!? says Ruth ‘Get out and go and join Eamon and Maggie in my spacious reception room and watch the re-runs of 'Das Boot' in German with sub-titles. I can’t even bear to look at you!’ There are gasps and sympathetic sounds all round as Brad slopes off to watch the Teutonic telly with husband and dog.

Meanwhile, back at QVC towers, Pippa and Katy are having an end of shift cuppa in the canteen. ‘Thank goodness we got away with not having to present that one AND neither of us are on air tomorrow so phew!’ says Pips. ‘Phew indeed’ replies Katy ‘but you know what’s going to happen now don’t you?’ ‘No, what?’ says Pippa distractedly looking around the canteen. ‘Obviously, I’m going to have to wear the least popular version of that nasty jumpsuit on my Wednesday fashion show aren’t I!!’ ‘Yeah, yeah, yeah!’ cries Pippa in dismay. ‘Perhaps you should hand the show over to someone else with a name beginning with K’ she thoughtfully. The she looks around the canteen again and nods towards a large table of rowdy men all laughing and clearly having as wonderful time. ‘Look at ‘em!’ says Pippa ‘look at Dale and Simon and the two gardening chaps enjoying themselves and talking about power tools, plant pots and pansies!! They don’t have to sell horrendous articles of clothing; they can chat about bird seed and branch shredder, and they even get to eat and talk about food with that Andy Peters. They have it easy.’ She splutters in rage. ‘Yes’, says Katy ‘Yes indeed they do’.

At that moment Craig Rowe rocks up to the boys' table resplendent in a pair of stripy (albeit rather thin) cotton shorts and a sleeveless vest, fresh from a stint in ‘A place in the sun’. ‘Room for a little one?’ he chirps, trying to squeeze his bottom between Simon and Dale. Dale accommodates with grace, but Simon looks daggers at Craig whom he clearly dislikes. Perhaps because 20 years ago, he Simon Biagi, used to be on ‘real’ telly and is now reduced to insincere ramblings in a loud voice with the constant repetition of the same old tired lines, whilst Craig’s career is on the rise. However, he grits his teeth and shuffles up a bit. Just a bit. ‘Why are you in shorts Craigy?’ says Andy ‘It’s snowing outside, and you are doing a bit of a Charlie Brook if you know what I mean.’ ‘Oh crikey’ says Craigy ‘I’d better go and put on some firmer pants’, and he bounds off like a happy puppy to change his undies.

Meanwhile, around a table in a dark and secluded corner of the canteen, sit the three newbies sipping stale coffee. They watch Craig bounce out of the swinging doors with little interest. ‘When do you think we’ll be added to the website like the real presenters??’ whines Laura sadly ‘we don’t even get a mention, never mind a photograph, not even an out of date one!. It’s as if we don’t exist.’ ‘I know!’ says Rezzy with enthusiasm ‘and I really try to shout and make myself known’. Victoria nods in agreement ‘yes, you do shout a bit don’t you.’ ‘Even Annalise was on the website and she wasn’t around long before moving onto better things was she?’ says Laura. ‘What do you mean better things?’ asks Victoria, ‘she’s working at the Knowsley warehouse now, in the returns department.’ ‘NOO!’ says Rezzy, ‘that can’t be!’ ‘Yep’, says Victoria, ‘the old presenters get sent there but QVC pretend that they’ve gone off to drive a camper van around Europe or go canoeing in Outer Mongolia’. ‘You mean to say that Kathy Taylor is working at the warehouse?’ ‘Yeah, driving a fork lift truck apparently, and Claire Sutton is at the call centre dealing with complaints.’ The three sit in stunned silence for a moment. ‘Soooo’, says Laura slowly ‘was the incident with the coconut mushroom before Annalise’s time then?’ ‘You mean that isn't an urban myth?' says Rezzy, 'I love coconut mushrooms’ muses Victoria, ‘me too’ says Laura, ‘but not in the interior compartment of a handbag that is supposed to be new I don’t!’. They giggle together and, sipping the remnants of their foul coffee, they ponder on their future at QVC.​
Both of them are absolutely brilliant.🤣🤣
 
Pleased to hear you enjoyed them. On re-reading I noticed a few typos but I wanted to get it all down before the ideas went out of my head.
Brilliant, just read some of your blogs and can’t stop laughing. You sum up the goings on in a humorous way.
I notice the tension between Ruth and Jacky Kabler as they are always on together and it’s clear they detest each other. They squabble a lot over the colour of a garment, Ruth would say “It comes in red blue black cream navy and green” then JK would interrupt saying “It’s not Red it’s more orange, and the green is more of a sage green. Then Ruth would say I know the colours of my garments, if looks could kill. I watch them for entertainment, certainly not to buy any of her garments.
You’ve cheered me up with your lovely humour. Don’t worry about the typos, we all make them.
 
Not sure why I have not read this thread before, but have had such a laugh reading it.

'but more importantly, who dressed that poor mannequin? If it had eyes, they’d be watering’. There are sniggers. As well as proving that you don’t have to be human to have a camel toe,' So funny.

‘The jumpsuit is available in five options with the bottom half in a solid colour for the less adventurous customers who don’t really want to look like an upholstered chair but who do like to have their cellulite admired by all and sundry.'

I could carry on copying and pasting, but cannot stop laughing.

Well done Almerinda, I hope you write for a living, as you would make a fortune. You have brightened my day.
 
Not sure why I have not read this thread before, but have had such a laugh reading it.

'but more importantly, who dressed that poor mannequin? If it had eyes, they’d be watering’. There are sniggers. As well as proving that you don’t have to be human to have a camel toe,' So funny.

‘The jumpsuit is available in five options with the bottom half in a solid colour for the less adventurous customers who don’t really want to look like an upholstered chair but who do like to have their cellulite admired by all and sundry.'

I could carry on copying and pasting, but cannot stop laughing.

Well done Almerinda, I hope you write for a living, as you would make a fortune. You have brightened my day.

So pleased you enjoyed it and that it made you laugh. I don't have the talent, discipline or patience to write for a living but I do enjoy the odd moment of creativity when I have trouble sleeping!
 
So pleased you enjoyed it and that it made you laugh. I don't have the talent, discipline or patience to write for a living but I do enjoy the odd moment of creativity when I have trouble sleeping!
I did enjoy it. Thank you.
 

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