All right… so I didn’t quite make the 200 quid I was hoping for on Penny Salerno’s Ma’s dressmaking stall at Greaty Market on Saturday. Well… it fell quite a bit short of that actually… more like eight quid. WELL you just wouldn’t believe how hard it is to sell dress material to women! They’re dead fussy and want everything for nothing, and if it’s not Egyptian cotton they want a discount. I don’t see what makes Egyptian cotton any better than good old Liverpool cotton. They might be all right at building pyramids, but you can rely on the scousers to be the leaders in fashion.. I mean, where else but Liverpool can you find girls with a year round tan, camel-sized eyelashes and finger nails that can scratch your back even if you’re sitting on the other side of the room?
But fashion isn’t exactly ME is it? I’ve got one pair of trainees (no shoes) which I wear for every occasion (You can’t see the hole under the left one, but my soggy sock knows about it!), I’ve got one coat (next door’s cast-off) and seven pairs of undies which I wash, wear, and turn inside out for extra wear on a regular basis. Don’t get me wrong, Anthony and Susan have been life savers with the stuff for school they’ve bought me when I go around to their house… but it doesn’t exactly make me a follower of fashion does it? And if I’m dead honest, I don’t give a shit if I’ve got gear from the charity shop or posh named gear.
I was watching a fella on the fruit stall opposite, shouting to the customers.. ‘Get your broccolis here.. three for a pound!’ I could do that! I know my broccolis from my cauliflowers. But selling flowery material to tight arsed old grannies just isn’t my forte. Still… eight quid’s better than a smack in the gob, even if I did work my arse off for seven hours! And the upside of it is that I’m beginning to know my brushed cottons from my algodon cottons (or something like that anyway).
I’m not giving up that easily though.. next week I’m aiming higher, hoping to double my money. I might even treat Penny to the pictures afterwards with my wages if I have enough (bet she’d be dead made up).