Here’s what really drives me crackers
Bushy beards. Tiny ketchup sachets. ‘Miracle’ face creams. They all leave JANET STREET-PORTER steaming
Words started when ordinary people started being called ‘stakeholders’. I blame New Labour.
RE-SEALABLE BAGS OF RICE
Whoever invented the ‘re-sealable’ bag for rice, nuts, pasta etc, I want to go around to their house and shout: ‘It doesn’t work!’
JUICERS
The Devil’s gadgets. If God had meant us to live on green slime, he would have given us gills and no teeth. Part of the enjoyment of food is the textures and fibres. No one is going to reduce my breakfast to slurry in the name of an energy drink.
MIRACLE FACE/EYE CREAM
The impossible dream — turning back time with a pot of gunk. only a giant pleat pulled together at the back of my neck will get rid of the sagging jowls on my jawline. The cheapest solution is to talk a lot, so the loose flesh keeps moving and it either tightens up or it’s not so obvious.
PAYING BILLS ONLINE
Having to remember all the ruddy passwords to log on to your account takes longer than writing an old-fashioned cheque and sticking it in an envelope.
SMALL TALK
I’m useless at this, and am infuriated when check-out staff in the supermarket (ordered to do so by their boss) ask how I am. If wanted to talk to them, I’d open the conversation.
TRAD JAZZ
IN my mind, this will for ever be ‘dad’ jazz, not helped by the fact Tory grandee Ken Clarke is a huge fan. modern jazz is fantastic, but I’m afraid the late clarintettist acker Bilk has a lot to answer for. Trad jazz goes with halitosis, corduroy trousers, a check shirt and a dodgy waistcoat.
YORKSHIRE PUD FLOPS
I am a decent cook, but I’ve never managed to make a yorkshire pud that didn’t resemble an old shoe sole. and don’t bother writing in with your tips, I’ve tried them all.
GETTING MY NAME WRONG
Don’t ever call me Janice! In america, I’m routinely called miss street or mrs Porter. sorry, I managed to marry a doublebarrelled bloke, but that’s my name, so get over it.
ORIGAMI HOTEL TOWELS
Is this a substitute for real cleaning — folding the ends of toilet paper into points and sticking the clean towels on the bed, turned into origami swans?
CENTRAL HEATING CONTROLS
When the Devil wanted to create something that would result in regular domestic fury, he devised the control box for programming central heating. holiday settings, off-peak settings and then copying each day’s setting to the next day … I feel miserable just thinking about it.
COUNTRY PUB LANDLORDS
as a walker, I know that the more remote the pub, the less likely it will serve anything edible after 2pm. They think they can fob people off with a bag of crisps and a picked onion. Forget the ‘hospitality industry’, it’s more like the hostility industry.
UNNECESSARY INSURANCE
I am bombarded with leaflets and emails offering special insurance for my gutters, my roof, the central heating, the drains, the pipework, the pet, and my holidays. how did we get through life before the advent of insurance? I have cancelled nearly all the policies after my plumber told me one for the boiler costing me £200 a year was pointless.
MEN AND SHOPPING LISTS
What is it about men and supermarkets? Why do they have to go off-piste? Instead of getting the essentials you’ve carefully written down for them, they buy their own favourites: a nasty can of hot dogs, a huge pot of english mustard and a jumbo bag of crisps.
STEPS AT STATIONS
Maybe it’s because I make a lot of journeys with a heavy wheelie bag stuffed full of left-overs from the fridge, my computer, some clean clothes and a book. But why do most railway stations have giant flights of steps between platforms and up from the car park?
READY-TO-EAT FRUIT
Another supermarket scam — you pay way more for this stuff on the basis that it will be deliciously ripe, but they invariably turn to mush in 24 hours.
BABY CHAT
Ok, I haven’t had a baby, only four husbands — but I don’t go around flashing photos of them at people. Why should I be interested in someone’s new baby, unless they are directly related to me? most babies look exactly the same anyway, just giant tadpoles in nappies.
PUBLIC EATING
We’ve become a nation of scoffers totally unembarrassed about gorging while we walk, dropping chips and spraying crumbs as we chat on our mobile phones. ugh!
TRAIN ANNOUNCEMENTS
every journey nowadays seems to be blighted by the guard (now called a ‘train manager’!) making endless useless announcements about the next station, the cause of a delay or the availability of a full range of snacks (i.e. just crisps) in the buffet car (now re-named the ‘on-board café’.)
TOILET ROLL TROLLS
There’s nothing more annoying than someone who doesn’t replace a toilet roll.
BAD IMPERSONATORS OF ME
About once a month, a member of the public comes up to me and announces that their teenage daughter does a really good impersonation of me and is thinking of a career on telly. Being confronted by an embarrassed 16-year-old with ginger hair attempting to mimic my accent is not remotely entertaining!