My Other Obscure Object of Desire.
Anyone who regularly reads this blog may recall that a while back I wrote a posting entitled "That Obscure Object of Desire", after the Luis Bunuel film of the same name. In that instance my particular obscure object of desire was TV chef and all-round uber-babe Nigella Lawson. But, as Nigella, with her sexy, husky voice and comely curves has now been missing from our screens for a while, her place has been taken by another erotic obsession in my increasingly middle-aged, male psyche.
All it takes to describe my new obscure object of desire is two words. And here they are. Kirstie Allsop. There you go. Kirstie. Allsop. Notice how even the name alone seems to trip off the tongue, taking a tap, as Nabokov put it, on the teeth. Kir-stie-All-sop.
So what is it about Kirstie that gets me, and seemingly many other approaching middle-agedom males, in a lather? Well, for a start, Kirstie shares a certain, particularly sexy, attribute with Nigella, and that is her vixen-like voice. Although unlike Nigella's softer, huskier tones, Kirstie's somewhat clipped, very English, slightly nasal vocal chords nonetheless seem to imbue an immediate sense of well-being. Her obvious poshness seems to imply a certain moral correctness, but listen to Kirstie for long enough and it becomes all too apparent that beneath that facade hides a mischievous (and frankly, sexual) playfulness. And when Kirstie declares, as in her most recent TV programme, "Kirstie's Handmade Britain", that "you haven't lived unless you've seen a W.I. craft tent", it veritably drips with eroticism.
Also like Nigella, Kirstie is not one of those stick-thin supermodel types. Rather, she is a handsome size 12-14, remarking herself in an interview with the "Mirror" newspaper that she has never been "a slip of a thing". So, if I may be so bold, I think there is a slightly motherly, homely quality to Kirstie's physique, and with her always respectable dress sense, long skirts and sensible shoes (she even sometimes wears wellies), this can only fuel one's imagination and provoke further longing.
Unfortunately though, again like Nigella, Kirstie is a married lady with two children of her own, as well as being stepmother to her husband's two children. So, it seems, once again, my obscure object of desire will only ever be a televisual pleasure. And as I lie back and think of dear, old England, it appears that Kirsie will only ever occupy one space near to me, which is inside my own mind.
Also, you could say that Kirstie and I are at polar opposites of the social spectrum, and do not, seemingly, share any sort of political beliefs. After all, she is (allegedly) an adviser to the Conservative Party on housing matters, and her family background can only be described as aristocratic. Her Father is the former chairman of "Christie's", Charles Henry Allsop, 6th Baron Hindlip, and his peerage allows her to use the moniker "The Honourable" Kirstie Allsop. So, what is it with me and posh birds? Could it be that I secretly harbour a begrudging working-class admiration for my so-called betters?
I don't really know the answer to that question. All I do know is is that Kirstie has become my other, tantalising obscure object of desire.
All it takes to describe my new obscure object of desire is two words. And here they are. Kirstie Allsop. There you go. Kirstie. Allsop. Notice how even the name alone seems to trip off the tongue, taking a tap, as Nabokov put it, on the teeth. Kir-stie-All-sop.
So what is it about Kirstie that gets me, and seemingly many other approaching middle-agedom males, in a lather? Well, for a start, Kirstie shares a certain, particularly sexy, attribute with Nigella, and that is her vixen-like voice. Although unlike Nigella's softer, huskier tones, Kirstie's somewhat clipped, very English, slightly nasal vocal chords nonetheless seem to imbue an immediate sense of well-being. Her obvious poshness seems to imply a certain moral correctness, but listen to Kirstie for long enough and it becomes all too apparent that beneath that facade hides a mischievous (and frankly, sexual) playfulness. And when Kirstie declares, as in her most recent TV programme, "Kirstie's Handmade Britain", that "you haven't lived unless you've seen a W.I. craft tent", it veritably drips with eroticism.
Also like Nigella, Kirstie is not one of those stick-thin supermodel types. Rather, she is a handsome size 12-14, remarking herself in an interview with the "Mirror" newspaper that she has never been "a slip of a thing". So, if I may be so bold, I think there is a slightly motherly, homely quality to Kirstie's physique, and with her always respectable dress sense, long skirts and sensible shoes (she even sometimes wears wellies), this can only fuel one's imagination and provoke further longing.
Unfortunately though, again like Nigella, Kirstie is a married lady with two children of her own, as well as being stepmother to her husband's two children. So, it seems, once again, my obscure object of desire will only ever be a televisual pleasure. And as I lie back and think of dear, old England, it appears that Kirsie will only ever occupy one space near to me, which is inside my own mind.
Also, you could say that Kirstie and I are at polar opposites of the social spectrum, and do not, seemingly, share any sort of political beliefs. After all, she is (allegedly) an adviser to the Conservative Party on housing matters, and her family background can only be described as aristocratic. Her Father is the former chairman of "Christie's", Charles Henry Allsop, 6th Baron Hindlip, and his peerage allows her to use the moniker "The Honourable" Kirstie Allsop. So, what is it with me and posh birds? Could it be that I secretly harbour a begrudging working-class admiration for my so-called betters?
I don't really know the answer to that question. All I do know is is that Kirstie has become my other, tantalising obscure object of desire.
Comments
I agree with your opinion of Nigella and Kirstie and have always thought of Joanna Lumley in that way (it's the voice).
I once met Kirsty Young at a trade conference and all of the middle-aged men were gathered around her tripping over their drooling tongues. She was stunning and charming. And unavailable.
Click here for Bazza’s Blog ‘To Discover Ice’
Ah yes, I can sort of understand your attraction to Kirstie and I know about your fondness of um Nigella's recipes.
If my memory serves me correctly, although recently, I think my memory may have gone on strike..where was I? Oh yeah, wasn't Kirstie Allsop the lady in the Scottish Widows ads? I could 'google' this, but I thought you might know, anyway.
Hope you had a peaceful weekend, David.
With kind wishes, Gary
I take your point.
I'll just say that this post was intended to be a little tongue in cheek, and I did hope to raise a little chuckle with the line "when Kirstie declares...that 'you haven't lived unless you've seen a W.I. craft tent', it veritably drips with eroticism".
And, yes, I can understand the Joanna Lumley thing, although she is getting on a bit now.
Thanks bazza.
Very Best Wishes,
David.
As far as I know, Kirstie was not the lady in the "Scottish Widows" ads. Despite this, though, Gary, I still think she's just great!
Hope your memory improves.
Very Best Wishes, your way,
David.
My goodness, hot tea and drool. At my age, it's a blessing, really! (Teas are costly.)
I feel there's a romance novel, centered around a cook show character, within your being! Bed and Breakfast... make it so, Dave!!
Love it. Now for some Nate Berkus.
Chow-chow,
Dixie
So glad that you enjoyed my little posting.
As for the romance novel centring around a cook show host, I'll get onto it right away!
Toodle pip for now.
Very Best Wishes,
David.