written and posted by members of Lancashire Dead Good Poets' Society

Showing posts with label embarrassment. Show all posts
Showing posts with label embarrassment. Show all posts

Tuesday, 27 May 2025

Journal - Dear Kitty


I was gifted a five year diary when I was about fourteen. Someone, an adult, made unkind remarks about me and diary keeping. I was a sensitive soul and the book remained untouched in a drawer for a year.

I started to write a diary, or journal when I was fifteen. From age seventeen, I missed a lot of years when recording my life on paper wasn’t a priority. I wish it had been, then I could look back on events, see the person I was and compare myself with who I am now. Life is what makes us who we are. Life throws things at us and how we deal with those ups and downs shapes us. Ideally, we learn from life’s experiences, good and bad, and avoid repeating mistakes. No need to beat ourselves up if we don’t get it right. It’s a shame I don’t have the missing bits written down, but there was a time when keeping a diary got me into a spot of bother and another time when it caused me great embarrassment, so perhaps it is a good thing. Why, then, I wonder, do I bother to write a journal now, most days? I see it as therapeutic rather than self-indulgent and hopefully it’s a therapy that does me good and creates memories to read back on. For me, that is. I can’t imagine anyone else being interested.

When Anne Frank began writing to Kitty, she had no idea of the impact those two years of her recorded life would eventually have on the rest of the world. She received a diary for her 13th birthday in June, 1942. A month later, she and her family were in hiding. Her ‘Dear Kitty’ diary entries tell of her hopes and dreams and her adolescent awareness as she developed an attraction for Peter van Pels, who shared the hiding place with his family. She wrote of personal relationships with her family and Peter’s family, her fear of discovery and worries about the disappearance of Jews. Anne died in Belsen concentration camp in 1944. She was fifteen years old. Her diary, discovered by her father, was first published in the UK in 1952, as ‘Anne Frank: The Diary of a Young Girl’. I have laughed and cried my way through that book. It is more than special.

There are many novels written in the epistolary form. I’ll mention a few favourites. ‘The Tenant of Wildfell Hall’ by Anne Bronte is framed round letters from the character Gilbert Markham to his friend about events connected with his meeting with the character Helen Graham, the tenant. ‘The Secret Diary of Adrian Mole Aged 13 and Three Quarters’, by Sue Townsend, is written as a diary. ‘Dracula’ by Bram Stoker, based on letters and newspaper articles is a Gothic horror story which has done a lot for Whitby tourism.

My Haiku,

Secrets coded in
Fountain pen and turquoise ink,
When I was fifteen.

In difficult times,
Between neatly written lines
Are tears of despair.

Cutting my own path,
Italics with flourishes
Speak of confidence.

Scribbled in biro,
Telling of the days events
With love and laughter.

“Look how far you’ve come!”
I remind myself to take
The best from each day.

PMW 2025

Thanks for reading, Pam x

Tuesday, 23 February 2021

Cosmetic Surgery - Nipped and Tucked


I’m glad to be happy in my own skin. I’m fine with my appearance, it’s what you’d expect for a woman of my age carrying the experiences of my life. The lines on my face belong there, each one earned. My laughter lines, just like the old joke of ‘Nothing is that funny’, I can’t remember who said it. My body, larger than I would like, but I’ll just wear bigger clothes and enjoy my day; carries the scars of necessary surgery, some life-saving, but that’s all fine, too. It’s me. At the moment I really need my sister-in-law. She is a hair-stylist, miles away in Troon. No one else cuts my hair and for almost a year we haven’t been able to meet, so I keep pinning it up out of my way and waiting. When it gets on my nerves I’m all for fashioning my own pixie cut with the kitchen scissors. I won’t. It’s not just my hair, I love her to bits and miss her and the family very much and look forward to a trip to Scotland as soon as we’re allowed.

Appearance is a confidence thing.  Accepting how we look is important to our general well-being, so if something is not right to the point of causing embarrassment or unhappiness and cosmetic surgery can sort it out, that is the way to go.

My family moved about a lot during my childhood. Dad’s job took us to various pubs all over the North West, some short term, and I was used to being the new girl at school. It didn’t bother me too much, until we came to Blackpool in 1965, or thereabouts.  I stood with my teacher facing my new class as she introduced me.

“She’s goofy!” 

A rude boy sitting at the front made everyone laugh and made me very self-conscious for years. The teacher didn’t say anything to him, which I thought was unfortunate, but as time went on I learnt why he had to sit at the front. His appearance was not flawless, he had puffed out cheeks giving him a fat looking face, but he was witty and quite funny. We went to different high schools, but met again by chance many years later at a works ‘do’ where he was the DJ. The rude boy was now a pleasant man with a successful business in entertainment and it was nice to spend a few minutes catching up. I was sad to hear he’d passed away some time ago. He’ll never see the results of my extensive cosmetic dentistry – joke.

A recent photograph of a well-known model without her dental veneers on horrified me. It was just a photo and could have been touched up, but there she was, a mouthful of what looked like good, vital teeth, filed to points to accommodate her dazzling white plastic (acrylic, porcelain, gold-bonded) very expensive smile. Money talks. There isn’t a dentist I know who would risk his / her clinical integrity to perform such treatment on healthy teeth. I wonder how she’ll look at age seventy, eighty and beyond with the ‘Colgate ring of confidence’ or if what is left of each tooth lasts that long.

Lip-fillers and Botox treatment seem to be the fashion, resulting in mask-like faces with an expression of surprise and suckers for lips. I think it’s supposed to slow down the natural aging process, but who knows if it works forever? There’s nothing wrong with growing old gracefully.  A few ‘nipped and tucked’ celebrities out there will disagree with me.

Here’s Dr John Cooper Clarke:

Face Behind the Scream
This case appears to be urgent
Kindly pull the screen
Cosmetic surgeon
The son of Mr Sheen
Is jerry building versions
Of the face behind the scream

The girl who would be beauty queen
Tells the doctor of her dream
In which she reads a magazine
Wearing only cold cream
They call her the face behind the scream

The image he maintains
And the silence he observes
Says it’s worth a little pain
For the figure we both deserve
A cowboy by profession since the age of 17
Whose singular obsession is the face behind the scream

The girl who would be beauty queen
Tells the doctor of her dream
A soiree in the mezzanine
And castanets and tambourines
A careless word and ugly scenes

The doctor knows he’s made for good impressions on demand
The new nose in the neighbourhood was fashioned by these hands
He can do it blindfold, his instruments are clean
A snapshot in his mind holds the face behind the scream

The girl who would be beauty queen
Diamond rivets in her jeans
Wild and with-it even off screen

He then removes the bandage and the odd remaining scab
A flair for fancy language…
The gift of the gab
Hands you a sandwich and applies the vaseline
To show to best advantage the face behind the scream

The girl who would be beauty queen
Tells the doctor of her dream
In which she turns her money green
Finds herself in a funny scene
Cracks up like a shatterproof windscreen

Danke schoen ich liebe dich, I promise not to hurt
A telephone receiver clicks RED ALERT
Whatever you do don’t touch that switch, the doctor goes to work
With his bag of tricks in his limousine
Mugshots from magazines
Face creams and photofits
To fit the face that doesn’t fit
The face behind the scream

The girl who would be beauty queen
Surrounded by the regular team
Of photo brats and coma teens
In bowler hats and brilliantine
Or bold cravats of bottle green
Such a precious little dream
To be taken to extremes
How many times can you be 16
The call her the face behind the scream


Thanks for reading, stay safe and keep well, Pam x