Soapbox: James Bond Does NOT Drink Heineken, and Other Stories of the Week

Greetings readers, and welcome to Soapbox Saturday, which I am going to post on a friday just because I can't get this first story out of my system.

I can barely manage to type, so distraught am I over this article in the Daily Mail that has me in complete tatters. Apparently, in the upcoming James Bond movie (titled Skyfall, to be released in November),  Bond is no longer going to drink his traditional vodka "shaken, not stirred" martini, but will be instead reaching/asking for a....Heineken!?!? 

Hollywood, you will rue the day you made the decision to Wal-Mart-ify the James Bond franchise by way of a lucrative sponsorship. Bond might as well trade in his tailored Italian suit for a pair of velour sweatpants and a gravy-stained tank top. Hand the Aston Martin keys to the greeter, Mr. Bond, your new car is a Dodge Ram with MI6 spray-painted across the door, a wooden gun rack,  and a big Union Jack flying off the rear.  Instead of wooing Miss Moneypenny with his overly-candid yet charming Freudian bon mots, he is apparently going to win his way into her bed by swilling a few brewskis, burping the alphabet,  then crushing the empties against his forehead.

Shame on you Hollywood. Couldn't you at least manage to get him a decent microbrew to drink!? Was nobody at Redhook or Anchor Steam in their offices the day you took this decision!? Shame. On. You.
Read about it and become enraged here.






I fully realize that you will need some time to recover from that full-on assault on the Institution of Bond. So I thought I would show you this…you know, to kind of kick you while you are down. That way, we can all get it over with and immediately start the healing process. This is a slideshow of ten women “dressed-up” for the events leading up to the Grand National hunt horse race that takes place here in the UK, just outside of Liverpool . All but one of these women appear to be going for a look that is usually associated with the gal at the party who starts drinking vodka-spiked wine coolers at one in the afternoon, and by cocktail hour is topless in the street, pumping her fist overhead and screeching “Woooo-HOOO!” while carrying her wadded-up pantyhose, a cigarette, and a broken stiletto in the other hand. It also reminds me of how very much I dislike lantern sleeves. You can see it for yourself here.

And if, despite the incessant drinking, fist-pumping, pantyhose-wadding, Wooo-HOO-ing, and general tartiness,  you still (inexplicably) find yourself without a date Saturday night, maybe you should rethink your perfume. Enter Eau De Mac Book Pro. The Apple store Geniuses will be powerless to resist you. I'm serious. Somebody made this...here it is.

And finally, there has been a wee change. You may have noticed that a new page tab, “Shop HF Secondhand”, has appeared on this blog. I have been lamenting the lack of decent vintage and consignment stores up here in my wee highland town since I started living here. It seems the combination of geography and opportunity does not favour the ebb and flow of the fashion tides. Not one to be defeated, I have decided to create my very own online secondhand clothing shop, Which I will lovingly curate over time with the spoils of my haunts, purchases, and closet cleanouts. You can link to the HF Secondhand shop simply by clicking on the “Shop HF Secondhand” page tab. Or by clicking here and adding it to your bookmarks. Think of it as a trip to the consignment store without having to put on shoes. Or pants. Or even bathe. Happy shopping!!

Comments

  1. Amen on the Bond thing....I read that and was just disgusted. I've been a Bond fan since the 60's....ugh....beer....no way!

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  2. I KNOW. Part of what we love about Bond is his elitism in his sartorial choices...right down to his drink. And I have a hard time believing that a vodka maker like Grey Goose or Stoli wouldn't take Hollywood's hand off at the opportunity to be the "official" James Bond martini alcohol.....such a shame...

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