Believe it or not, kind readers, I really do adore Christmas. I love everything about it, from the shiny glass baubles to the buttery mince pies to the endless supply of pine needles in my socks. I too understand the desire to then collect said baubles and other Christmas finery, and find ways to display them to maximize their glimmering potential. I remind you, though, in this season of gluttony and excess, that well, sometimes less is more. It's called MODERATION.
This exquisite compilation, for example, is currently sitting in someone's cubicle. In what I expect is a very cleverly disguised use of every fishing lure every created, this just looks, well, extraordinarily dangerous. And like it's reaching out to poke you in your eyeball when you haphazardly swivel in your swivel chair to reach for the file on your other desk containing the memo on workplace health and safety. In fact, I'm going to venture a guess that the green, round, moldy bits laying around its base are indeed a morose reminder of all the victims it has already claimed.
For some unknown reason, Christmas always seems to bring out the crazy in people. And the uncontrollable compulsion to hoard some seriously ugly piffle. And the impression that reconstructing obscure medieval Swiss villages in miniature across the length of one's living room floor is a fantastic and clever idea. Crafters, trust me on this one: try to restrict your OCD to counting toothpicks, and leave your credit card at home next time you visit Bob's Big House of Discounted Holiday Miniature Tat.
I'm so glad this artist managed to find such a handsome portrait of Alan Rickman to use as the focal point for this stunning piece of jewellery. Truly, Sir Rickman has never looked better. His enviably pale, sickly pallor and sultry, sunken, come-hither eyeballs really make me shudder with delight. And that sneer! Ooh, that sensual, disgruntled grimace of disdain is enough to make any girl, and even some men, positively slack-jawed with unease. And luckily, according to the jeweller:
And this, my friends, is what Alan Rickman would look like if he were a fish with the face of Alan Rickman. Because why the hell not.
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