Taylor Swift and Being 21

The last time we spoke, it was the eve of the Legends Comic-Con at Stonham Barns. We had high hopes for this event because last year had been so good, despite or maybe even because of the shockingly bad weather. Surely, we thought, because the weather this year is going to be gorgeous, we will do as good, if not better. Sadly, this wasn’t the case.

Yes, it was a beautiful weekend but there simply wasn’t the footfall. Oh, don’t get me wrong, I sold enough books to cover my costs and gain a small profit, but some of the other authors weren’t so lucky. I’m not sure why, but the people didn’t come and those that did were keeping their purses shut.

Was it because it was such a nice weekend people went elsewhere? Did we clash with another major event, or two? Or, and I think this is more likely, a year deeper into the cost-of-living crisis people simply can’t afford to go out anymore. Yes, it was only £10 to get in, but if you’re a typical family of four that’s £40 already. There was a cosplay competition but that was the only free thing. There were no exhibits or demonstrations or star panels or anything that wasn’t someone trying to sell you something. I can quite understand that people saved their £40 and went to the coast for the day or went somewhere where £40 not only paid for entry but entertainment for bored children.

There were also more of us this year. Last year there were four of us tucked away in the corner. We were a novelty and because of the nonstop rain people talked to us about our books and then bought one or more. This year there were eight of us, all in a row. That’s a lot of authors all doing their best to flog their books. There was only so much spending money walking through the gates and it was being split between more of us. None of the other traders did very well either. Some of them didn’t bother coming back on Sunday and we had a large space behind us that day.

Don’t get me wrong, it was still a fun weekend and it’s always nice hanging out with other authors and we certainly had a laugh. Will I do it next year? I will need to think long and hard about that one.

Opposite my stall was a lady selling t-shirts, denim jackets and other accessories. They were all pastel shades with appliqued Pokemon and anime images. They were pretty but not my cup of tea and then I saw THE t-shirt hanging all by itself above the other merchandise. It was plain back, with a gorgeous red appliqued serpent down the front and the word reputation embroidered above it in white, medieval script. All day Saturday, I eyed up that t-shirt. There was something about it that I liked. I don’t know what it was, but I wanted to buy it for Franki for their 21^st birthday. But … I had already spent quite a lot of money on presents and I had bought several T-shirts for them over the years with varying degrees of success.

When I went back on Sunday, the jury was still out as to whether I was going to buy it or not. Before the gates opened to the public, I wandered over and felt the shirt. It was silky soft and nice quality. You could feel it was not a cheap T-shirt. The stallholder glanced up at me.

HER: Ah, so are you a Taylor Swift fan, then?

ME: Taylor Swift? Wait. What? This is a Taylor Swift t-shirt?

HER: Yes, it’s the cover from her album reputation.

ME: Ooh, yes, I remember hearing about it.

HER: We did Wembley a couple of weeks ago and had a stall of Taylor Swift-related t-shirts. We sold out, or I thought we had, but when I was sorting stock for this weekend, I found this lone one tucked away in a box. I bought it along even though it doesn’t go with anything else.

ME: It’s gorgeous (fingering the material longingly). It’s my daughter’s 21^st in a couple of weeks and she’s a huge Taylor Swift fan. I have already bought all her presents, but …

HER: Tell you what, they were selling for £35 but because it’s the last one and you’re a trader I’ll let you have it for £15.

ME: Sold. Thank you.

She wrapped it up, gave me the care instructions and threw in a Taylor Swift sticker as well. Thrilled, I took it back to my stall and showed it off to the others. If Franki didn’t want it, I decided, I would have it because I loved it.

The day ticked by. It was quiet, so quiet. As I said, many of the traders didn’t bother coming back on Sunday. At lunch time I wandered out to get something to eat. I normally take my own supplies to save money, but I hadn’t, and I was hungry, and a little bit bored. I didn’t want a burger as everyone was saying they were greasy and not worth the money. A wood-fired pizza truck was just outside the trader’s barn, so I wandered over to see what they had on offer. It smelt amazing and there was a nice selection of toppings. It was £6 for a small pizza so not too horrendous.

I scanned the toppings.

Normally I’m not a great pizza lover, but this was wood-fired so not your usual supermarket cardboard fare, and the toppings looked fresh and appetising. I chose the ham and pineapple one. Yes, yes, I know to some that’s the devil’s own food, but I happen to think it’s delicious, especially when I could see the pineapple being cut up fresh and the ham being torn in chunks from a large ham-on-the-bone.

Whilst I waited, I chatted with the vendor. He was not a happy bunny. It had cost him £175 for his pitch just for the one day. Add to that the cost of the ingredients plus travelling, and he would have to sell a lot of £6 pizzas to break even. With footfall even lower on Sunday than it had been the day before he wasn’t anticipating a very successful day.

I took my pizza back to my stall. It was hands down the best pizza I’ve ever had. I made lots of appreciative noises which I think encouraged everyone else to go and buy a pizza. Two of the authors were gluten-free, I sent them anyway as I felt sure he was offering a gluten-free option for the base. They came back gleefully clutching boxes of delicious, gluten-free pizza. Anyone who stopped to chat with us, we recommended they go and buy pizza. I’m not sure how much difference we made, but hopefully, the poor guy sold enough pizzas to make a profit.

This year has very much been all about taking a pasta approach to live events, in that we’re throwing everything at the wall and seeing what sticks.

I have another live event on Sunday. This time it’s a Comic-Con taking place in the UEA Sports Park in Norwich. It’s only a one-day event and it’s another new to us thing so we’ll see if this one sticks. If you’re in the area why not come along.

The weather remains gorgeous, some days reaching mid-thirty degrees centigrade. People are moaning that it’s too hot but I’m not. I made a promise to myself during miserable May and just as bloody horrible June, that if the summer ever did arrive, I would not complain about the heat — no matter how hot it got. I’m enjoying having doors and windows open, not having to wrap up warmly, being able to hang laundry outside and I’m appreciating not having to put the heating on.

I believe I told you last time that the three of us would be taking a trip to a nearby large garden centre to finally buy new plants for my newly repainted garden. Well, we went last Saturday. It was so tempting to go off plan, but I was determined to stick to the brief — shrubs, summer-long flowering, all white flowers — I received about £100 in cash for my birthday to go towards them -but ended up spending £250 as I bought well-established large specimens to achieve instant impact. Thank heavens for my tax rebate and large pay packet at the end of July, that’s all I’m going to say.

We carried our acquisitions home and positioned them in the garden where I thought they would go, gave everything a good drink, and then went out to meet with a friend for dinner and then onto my first drag night. We were going to have dinner at Wetherspoons as Franki gets a staff discount. Although I’ve had a couple of drinks there since Franki started working for them, I’ve never eaten there. I’d been told the food was cheap and cheerful so wasn’t anticipating anything too amazing. Franki wanted me to try a glass of the wine on tap — wine on tap, yes, you did read that right — as she wanted to know what it was like but doesn’t like red wine. There was an offer for two large glasses of any of the four wines available on tap for only £5.90. Now, that is ridiculously cheap. With prices rocketing over the last few years, a glass of so-so red wine can cost up to £9 in a pub, so I was prepared to be generously inclined towards the wine, whatever it tasted like, at that price. I had a glass of Merlot, and my friend had the rosé. And the verdict? Not bad, not bad at all. Let’s just say, I’ve had far worse and paid a lot more for it.

And the food? I had the steak with a hickory sauce, a jacket potato, and salad. The others had chicken strips, chips, and a noodle bowl. We had another round of drinks. The final bill was under £45. Even allowing that some of that was due to Franki’s staff discount it is still incredibly cheap and the food was okay. Not 5 Michelin star standard obviously, but equally as good, if not better, than meals I’ve eaten elsewhere and paid four times the price for.

And then onto the drag night. Well. What can I say? What a riot that turned out to be. We laughed and sang ourselves hoarse. The audience was relaxed and there to have a good time. We were a real mix of ages, sexes, genders, and classes, but everyone was there to have fun.

I was surprised by how long it went on and when we left at almost midnight, Franki and Rys said they were tired and wanted to go home — weaklings — but my friend and I wanted to go dancing. So, we let the youngsters go home to bed and we rocked up at the Gym Bar where I used to go dancing back in the day. I had no idea if they still played music until late on a Saturday and it wasn’t packed, but there was music playing, and a good vibe, the tunes were all dance floor fillers from the 70s, 80s, 90s, and 00s, and soon everyone was jumping about like mad things and singing their hearts out. Honestly, my throat the next day felt like I’d been gargling razor blades.

We staggered home at 2.30am. My friend’s very patient and obliging boyfriend picked her up from mine and I crept into the house and went to bed.

The next day I waited for the hangover. It didn’t come. There had obviously been a cock-up in the hangover department and the memo that I was owed a seriously banging one went somewhere else. I was tired and, like I said, had a sore throat, but other than that I was fine. Much to the disappointment of Franki and Rys who I’m sure had planned to laugh cruelly at my misery.

Nice to know I’ve still got it at 57. Speaking of, to the younger lads who tried to chat me up on Saturday night. Lads, thanks, you boosted this old lady’s ego but honestly, I’m old enough to be your mum and possibly even your gran, so thanks for the dance and the attention, but no thanks.

This summer is whizzing by. This year is whizzing by. My life is whizzing by. It was Franki’s 21^st birthday on Wednesday. How is that possible? How can it be 21 years since I held that tiny scrap in my arms, looked into those beautiful innocent blue eyes and fell in love? Those eyes are still blue, although maybe not so innocent, and I still love my kid. Although some days I do struggle to remember why,

Franki didn’t want to do too much — work and lack of funds hindering any plans for a large celebration — so we had a Taylor Swift-inspired cocktail evening. This comprised watching the Eras Tour and drinking a cocktail per era. When I enquired about what food would be desired, I was told that a charcuterie board or a “picky tea” would be very much appreciated.

The weather remained beautiful on the day, and I ran to the shop very early to get sweet pastries for breakfast before Franki opened presents. Luckily, the Taylor Swift t-shirt got a thumbs-up of approval, as did everything else I’d bought for her. We wandered across to Waitrose later in the morning and indulged in the nicest form of food shopping which is picking up treats for a celebratory cold dinner. I even treated us to a bottle of champagne — not prosecco — and a tiny pot of caviar.

Once everything had been put away, we drove to my parent’s house to have cake with them and for Franki to open their main present from me, Rys, and my parents. We had all clubbed together to buy a Kindle Paperwhite, plus the cover, the screen protector, and a £30 Amazon gift card to load the Kindle up with eBooks.

Home again, I quickly laid up a fabulous spread, our guest arrived, and the evening got underway. Again, I did not get a hangover. Do not know why. Perhaps all the food I ate absorbed it. As you’ve probably gathered, the diet has gone a bit astray the last month — what with two birthdays so close together and various trips and treats, it’s been too hard to keep it up regularly. Never mind, I’ll get back on it and I know it works.

And now it’s Saturday morning. Another gloriously sunny day. I will be busy preparing for the show tomorrow. It’s the first time we’ve done this one so have no idea if it will be a success or not. I hope it’s busy, that footfall is high, and that people come prepared to at least talk to us about our books. Even if they don’t want to buy on the day but merely take our cards, you never know. Maybe a seed has been planted that will eventually grow into a sale later down the line.

So, wherever you are and whatever you’re doing, have a wonderful Sunday. By the time you read this I will be on the road to Norwich, maybe even there and setting up.

Take care everyone.

Julia Blake