Have I told you about the Virgin Helen?
Probably not. She wasn’t really… well, I have no idea, but I met her husband and… let’s not wander down that lane, shall we? The reason I refer to her is that she was the model in a Virgin Megastore Christmas campaign from about five years ago, while I was working at the design company that was working on the campaign. She was working in the accounts department, I suppose they just thought they’d save a bit of money, or have a model on hand. It was quite freaky because they’d have all these posters and cut-outs in various stages of completion all around the studio and then the real woman would be walking around. It doesn’t take a lot to freak me out.
I mention it because I think she’s turned up in the Christmas campaign for the Post Office. There’s one of the posters with her in up outside my house. This means:
- The same company are doing the Post Office campaign, and are pulling the same stunt.
- The Virgin campaign launched a lucrative modelling career for the V.H.
- It’s somebody completely different.
It’s probably the latter. It usually is.
Other than that I spent the whole day scanning a Real Book… um, I left my Real Book behind at that gig that turned into a jam a few weeks ago and picked up the other bass player’s book by mistake. It’s full of great tunes. 500 pages of them. That’s a lot of scanning: Approximately twice as much as I managed to achieve all day.
It’s one huge displacement activity, replacing the millions of other things that I really ought to be doing. I’m constantly amazed at the meaningless things I’ll end up doing when I’m really pressed for something useless to do. As I mentioned to someone the other day, when I was doing my O levels I coloured in a street map of Oxford. Oddly since so much of my income now stems from colouring in, this was probably more useful to my later life than the O levels themselves.
I get a vegetarian thali from the Indian Takeaway. It was very nice. We need these boring details to add substance to a life. No, honestly.