Oliver Bonas

Try as I might, I cannot get my head round what this shop sells. I was walking up Muswell Hill High Street, and whilst waiting for the missus to finish looking in the Cancer Research Charity Shop, I wandered into Oliver Bonas

I looked at the shelves and tried to form a theme. Nothing came to mind.

I looked again, closed my eyes, and tried to remember what I had seen one second ago. Nothing came to mind.

It was like that game when you are given 15 seconds to look at a tray full of objects, then the tray is removed and you have to recall as many objects as you can.

Looking at the merchanise in Oliver Bonas is like looking at a tray full of brown lumps of nothingness. It is SO dull and meaningless, you don't know what's going on.

As I was staring disconsolately at the shelves, the missus walks in, looks at something on a shelf, and says "Oooh that's nice"

"What's nice?" I say.

"That picture frame, next to the anniversary cards."

"Would you come into this shop to buy a picture frame?"

"No, I would come into this shop to buy a gift. Oh look at that teapot. It would go perfectly with the chair over there next to the notebooks"

"So what kind of shop sells teapots, chairs, cards, notebooks and picture frames? It makes absolutely no sense" I say.


Oh that's MUCH more useful

"What do you mean, what does it sell? It's obvious.  Just look around you."


Er...

I look around me. I cannot for the life of me figure out what they sell. I take in shelf after shelf of stuff, and concentrate as hard as possible to remember the contents of the shelves. I close my eyes, and cannot think of a thing.


I THINK this was just next to the silk scarves, or was it by the monogrammed mugs?

"But why would you come in here?" I say to her. "I mean, if you want to buy someone a gift, surely you get an idea of what they want, and then go to the appropriate shop to buy it, don't you?

"That's fine if you know what you want to buy, but if you don't, you come here for inspiration. Oh, that's a nice pillow."

I lose my temper. "When in God's name would it be appropriate to buy anyone a pillow? If someone bought me a pillow, I'd fling it back in their face for wasting my time opening it. This place panders to lazy, unimaginative people who can't think for themselves."

"Well," says the missus, with her arms folded tightly across her chest, "if you're going to be like that, you can say goodbye to the chair swing I was going to get you for your birthday."


I hope she was joking.

She was, wasn't she?