Are you a Persil woman? Yes, you too, Shackman. I am.
I know there are arguments against it but that’s what I am. A Persil Woman. Non-biological. Despite the ‘non’ non-biological easier on your skin.
Possibly to do with my country of origin – though my mother who doesn’t speak a word of English begs to differ. Give me a brand and I am yours. Vorsprung durch Technik. Though I do prefer to drive a Citroen (for emotional reasons) make mine a BMW. Will admit that almost all electrical gear throughout the years is Miele (not Bosch – fine difference), Braun (try and pronounce it correctly) and there is Sony. SONY is posh. I love Sony. My TV (not that I watch any) is a Sony. And recently acquired a new comp screen. A beauty if ever there was one. Yes, a Sony. The Angel who has a screen to rival your local cinema’s conceded that, yes, the colour quality is ace. Just as well since I am going blind. Don’t worry. Not that blind. I can still identify anyone by the way they walk. Ping back to Renee and smells.
Lest Italians among you feel neglected: Zanussi is fine. I swear by Zanussi. They do white ware which does not rust (unlike Citroens): Fridges, washing machines. Throw in a Lamborghini. Even better: Shoes. And my landlord – who could pass as a Spaniard on a permanent siesta – is Italian.
When it comes to shoes: Spanish sizing/width is best. Maybe to do with dancing the Flamenco. I have been in love with many shoes in my life but there is one pair (bought in Malaga) I might declare love of my life. OH MY GOD. Those shoes were killers. Pity that shoes wear out. A great sorrow of mine but I do not keep the worn or broken of whatever in my life. But one day, just one day, maybe next time I am in Andalucia, I will find their likeness.
If any of my American readers have no idea what I am talking about it only means one thing: Come and visit the mother continent. You will be dwarfed.
Point of this post? Whatever. Maybe perception of nationalities a good starting point.