I love a Cath Kidston bag as much as the next girl, I do (in
fact, it’s possible I even love CK even more than the next girl). But I feel
like cupcakes have taken over the world and it’s leaving a bit of sickly sweet
taste in my mouth.
Now it’s not enough for women to juggle work and motherhood,
we have to do it all in a polka-dot apron while whipping up a batch of whoopee
pies. The strange creep of tweeness (it’s a word) has meant you can barely turn
round in Next or M&S without knocking over another display of pink cake
stands, or tripping over a Union Jack cushion cover and I’ve got to be honest it’s getting on my wick.
Consider the TV chef. No, seriously, go with me here,
because it’s here that I think the rise of the twee can be seen in all its
pink, fluffy glory.
Think about the Hairy Bikers, motoring round Europe,
hairnets jauntily perched on beards, on the hunt for a pie.
Think of the Fabulous Baker Brothers, posh lads competing against each other to make the best
pie.
Then think of (gorgeous) Nigella sneaking downstairs to sneak chocolate
cake out of the fridge. Of (gorgeous) former model Lorraine Pascale wafting
around the white regency buildings of West London and helpfully telling us that
you can buy ready-made pastry in the supermarket. Or twee-est (again, it’s a
word) of them all, (gorgeous) Rachel Khoo, making teeny-tiny croque madames (or
is it mesdames?) in her teeny-tiny flat. They're all great cooks. But it’s not the same, is it?
I’m not really sure why it bugs me so much. Perhaps it's because it's hard to see that glass ceiling when it's strung with bunting?
Whatever the reason I’m starting to
feel like I did on Easter Sunday – a bit fed up of all the sweetness and in
desperate need of something savoury. Let’s hope it’s just a phase, eh? But in
the meantime, people of Britain, I suppose I shall have to just Keep Calm and Ice a Cupcake.
Bleurgh.