We Need To Talk About Harry

 

I was the only nearly 59-year-old woman wearing a silver sequinned tube dress and pearls at the Harry Styles concert at Mt Smart stadium last Tuesday. Almost all of the other 40,000+ fans attending wore pink. I have never seen so much pink. The bleachers glowed pink. The sickly drinks on sale were pink. I doubt fans wore this much pink to Pink. Harry bless him wore aubergine coloured trousers, a sequinned whale tale on a white t-shirt, and a huge smile. I was hoping for a sequinned body suit THB. Although his trousers perfectly matched the aubergine reference which came up on repeat in his fruit n veg encore (check it out on Tik Tok*) 

pink

Hello, I’m Harry, said Harry. The crowd screamed. No one threw bras or thongs this was a sober teenage rage of the best kind. Be yourselves tonight, said Harry, be anyone you want to be. The crowd swayed (some possibly cried.) Young fans had been waiting 500 hours outside the stadium to get beneath Harry’s stage gaze. They (me included) hung on his every word. The cheeky pretty pop god from Cheshire is funny. He does good banter. Witty off-the-cuff stuff. The crowd performed a newbie kids' author’s verbology. They swooned. Fizzed. Giggled. Cried. Sang. Cheered. Whistled. Screamed. Woooed. Danced. They danced with their hands above their heads, with their cell phone lights on. Cheap feather boas from Spotlight and LookSmart dropped a rainbow of feathers. Where had all those feathers come from? Why did they drop so easily. Thousands of necks were rubbed by their pricky points. I wore baby pink, Daughter-one white, Daughter-two yellow along with a Harry’s House t-shirt worn as a dress. There was a lot of flesh on show. But also not. There were dads dressed to match their pre-teen daughters! OMG. Cute. Never has there been such a good time at an underage rage.

 

Best Dressed

Harry has been accused of gay-baiting with his feminine attire. I’m not really up with his love life except for Olivia Wilde but to me his clothes are just an exploration of freedom and fuck you. The pearls, the painted nails, the high heels, the fluffy jumpers, the mesh vests and chiffon tie neck blouses. He’s the Bowie of the 2020’s and we need him. All the pigeon holing that’s done nowadays is such an offensive yawn. Funny that his last name is Styles because the guy rocks loads of the stuff. His stage show from Rear Floor (not even the arse arse end of the stadium) was a bit Sweetwaters tbf. Main stage video back drop, two side panels wide enough for one hooman at a time. I had no idea he had a t-boned stage that he danced along eyeing up those crying teens doing the thumbs up and heart-hand signs to make sure they weren’t about to perish. But me and my gals had room to move our booties and throw our hands in the air on the spongy plastic floor covering the pitch underneath. I clocked up 21,000 steps that night. The nek day I felt as though I’d been out clubbing, downing tequila shots. I hadn’t. All it took was one pink drink and the infectious happiness of crowd. The One Directioners who’d grown up with Harry, those that fell in love and remained loyal from his first Watermelon lapping album. Guy’s won Grammys. Guy’s going places. Yet he still thanked us, the crowd, over and over. Thank you Auckland and surrounding areas, he repeated. I’ve been cumming to Noo Zeeeeland for 11 years now. He did the Census. He sang, Tutira Mai Nga Iwi. He had fruit thrown at him. A banana. An Apple. His vocalist and percussionist ironically is a kiwi named Niall. She did a headstand which turned into a walk over and looked insanely painful. Harry’s hot. His band’s hot. For what the show lacked in fireworks and a drone light show, it made it up for it with eye candy, a still night and the full moon coming out on cue.

 

The next day at a hip café in Grey Lynn the manager asked me where I’d been, pointing at the mauve wrist tag I still hadn’t removed. Harry Styles, I said. Oh, I was at Pavement that night, shows how different we are. She then went on to state how her kids did like him but they grew out of him and he should stay off the big screen and what was that last movie he did the one with Florence Pugh? Don’t Worry Darling, Daughter-two said, me and my friends loved it. I said, I loved the concert. I wanted to say, Hon you need to swap those black Docs for your pink ones, swap the denim cut-offs and grey T for a sequinned mini, pop along to a LOVEONTOUR concert, and dance like nobody's watching. Harry Styles snobs seem torn – like people who keep reading turgid literary tomes on the train when they really want to read a rip-roaring women’s fiction. Let your hair down, I say. Or put it up, and run up a pink one-piece, wrap fairy lights around your Stetson and get on down.

 

Over-excited author with gorgeous daughters

More than one middle-aged woman has already weighed in on the Harry Styles cool. Alison Mau, SST with her piece titled, “Why I’m Bananas for Harry’s style”, said it all. I discovered several lady friends had been there celebrating life on Tuesday with their chillin (not that ours need chaperoning anymore.) Pip. Claire. Sally.

Later a friend in Millers Flat asked if Harry waved at me. I replied, Ha no … but honestly it was the happiest gathering of 40,000+ singing and dancing people that I’ve ever been at. I didn’t get taken to pop concerts by my mum when I was a tween. I would’ve happily swooned to The Bee Gees, Fleetwood Mac, The Beatles, Leo Sayer ... Alison M said the crowd ranged from 7 to 70. Hurry back Harry! 

 

Until nek time, girlfriends. 

 

I’m Harry.

* https://www.tiktok.com/@briacameron/video/7207779831314910465?is_from_webapp=1&sender_device=pc&web_id=7190920291958277633

Let's Talk About SLEEP, Baby! & Calm App

 

In a desperate quest to get more zzz’ds every night, I recently downloaded Calm. App. It’s been a total gamechanger for this ol sleepless pillow princess. So while I’m on a sleep-buzzed high I’ve reviewed my favourite sleep stories for you.

Let’s start with Harry Styles’ - Dream With Me. Hazz stepped up to voice a story after a heavy-fan-flex requested it during our first introduction to Lockdowns, 500 years ago now. DWM is the most listened to story and crashed the site when it was first released.

I can almost guarantee that as soon as you get horizontal, shut your eyes, don your noise-canceling headphones, and flick on ‘Dream With Me’ you’ll be seeing Mr. Styles in a Gucci loin cloth flying about the Sistine chapel playing cupid with a heart-bow-and arrow. I was. But honestly, his voice, with a backing track of wet violins and wetter piano is so oozy it can only be described as sexy-whisper!

I’m proudly a late adopter of most of the tech whizzes of our world. Tik Tok wot? I’ve nary listened to a podcast, nor a talking book but if you haven’t tried listening to a sleep story when you’re all alone and wide awake in the middle of the night; let me convince you in one word why you need it. Harry.

I had to google, “why did harry styles narrate a sleep story”. To grab a quote from the sweet boy of rock and good god almighty up popped 471,000 results in .54 seconds! 

Harry said:

“SLEEP AND MEDITATION ARE A HUGE PART OF MY ROUTINE … FINDING A BALANCE HAS BEEN ENDLESSLY BENEFICIAL TO BOTH MY PHYSICAL AND MENTAL HEALTH. IT’S CHANGED MY LIFE! I’M SO HAPPY TO BE COLLABORATING WITH CALM AT A TIME WHEN THE WORLD NEEDS ALL THE HEALING IT CAN GET. TREAT PEOPLE WITH KINDNESS.”

Also, every lusty wench and her apartment-bound cavoodle had already written about him. It. 

The co-CEO of Calm states, “Harry’s mellifluous voice is the perfect tonic to calm a racing mind.” 

While Elle magazine reported, “Turns out Styles' sometimes rhyming, always rhythmic delivery is counterproductive to the REM cycle.” Elle also noted, “Harry is terrible at putting me to sleep”. 

No doubt because every single gal or guy searching for a Tinder date is gonna get quite carried away with Harry’s ‘you’ and ‘me’ narrative. It begins. 

“Hello I’m Harry Styles”

And tonight, I’m going to help you drift off to sleep

With some soothing words and calming music

A sleep story just for you!

With all the business of your day I know how hard it can be to get to sleep

So thank you for choosing this story and ME to help you

I wish you a wonderful night’s sleep

So make yourself comfortable take a deep breath in and then out

In and then out … and when you’re ready close your eyes”

Yeah baby they’re closed! I spent 50 bucks on an annual subscription and here I was instantly under the duvet with Harry Styles! He seems to lick his words at the end of every sentence.

“Tonight, we’re going to think about (sexy pause) anything you’d like. 😜

So first let’s visualize some scenes to see us through the night.

Settle back and clear your mind, where heading somewhere special

Beyond the world of consciousness to places more celestial.”

(watery music interlude)

I’d like you to imagine …”

 

Well, let’s not go there. He does hold your hand. And snuggle with you on a raft. There's even a log cabin with an open fire. I’m not going to let on about the bearskin rug. You will never tire of my #1 Harry but if he’s not your jam …

#2 Cillian Murphy’s gentle Irish brogue will lilt you in an imaginary locomotive across the verdant plains of leprechaun country in the aptly named ‘Crossing Ireland by Train’. Not that this travelogue, circumnavigating the Emerald Isles reads clackety clack. Cillian’s dulcet tones are more of a meditation, a literary lullaby. He points out the landscapes that inspired the enchanted world of Narnia in the C S Lewis classic and quotes Wilde, Beckett and Joyce. This is your thinking women’s bedtime story. A mattress masterclass of sorts through an enchanted green, green land. By the end, you won’t give Peaky Blinders a thought nor see that rude Thomas Shelby haircut again. All hale, Kill-ian. I’ve never been to Ireland. But I feel I want to now. This story can only be described as a polite invitation. 

#3 Matthew McConaughey pants his way like a lanky rhinestone cowboy through ‘Wonder’. To claim this is a “story about the mystery of the universe” is a bit of a push. With all these narrations, it’s all about the voice, not the content. While Matthew gets all hippy trippy about the infinite magnitude of the cose-mose, I find my subconscious drifts happily towards come-a-tose. There is probably a smirk on my face as I imagine Matthew chewing a piece of grass in his Wranglers beside the campfire. He’s just polished his cowboy boots, fed me beans with a spoon, and is reading to me as I lie exhausted after a day rustling wild horses on the range.

“Well, hello there I’m Matthew Mac-Con-nay-hay and tonight I’ll be reading a special sleep story called Wun-derrr. Before we begin, as you settle in under the covers with your head eeeeasing into the pillow and your body eeeeasing into the mattress I’d like you to let your mind drift with me…”

I should point out that it is a rare thing to find yourself awake on the conclusion of these readings. Like the child you once were, you will happily listen to them over and over. And never tire of their repetition.

#4 Idris Elba reads ‘Kingdom of the Sky’ a ‘trek across the mountains of Lesotho.’ If you know nothing about this “tiny jewell of a country, nestled in the breathtaking mountains of southern Africa” you might learn a few facts. However, alas, you will also find yourself seeing Idris (Idd-riss) as a middle school geography teacher, not the next James Bond. This is a wholesome Sunday night story of the geographical kind, for all ages.

If you’re not single or middle-aged, or for some strange reason you don’t feel comfortable nestling into your feather topper and deep breathing with a male movie star, there are alternatives.

I have enjoyed ‘Dr Doolittle’ with Stephen Lyons. Stephen’s lively yet calming voice is bound to make you feel like a contented child being read to by a loving grandparent while under a lavender-scented eiderdown.

Former Great British Bake Off judge, Dame Mary Berry reads ‘A Very Proper Tea Party’. This very proper story makes Jane Austen read like a bodice ripper. I’m still alarmed that the host made herself a pot of Darjeeling and enjoyed a cup in the window seat before her guest arrived. WTH? 

‘Sienna the Sleep Sloth’ with David Walliams just gave me creepy Little Britain vibes. For some reason, DW’s voice (which is either on fast-forward x 2, or he’s on diet pills) made me envisage a grown man with five o’clock shadow and a dad-bod snug within a wife beater and nappies. IKR! I shut him down pdq. I have no idea what the sloth got up to.

The library is varied and endless. In conclusion, Calm App is a great way to clear your mind and get more health-giving sleep. I’m a convert. Chucking on my headphones at 3am and listening to “Softly Back To Sleep” is a whole lot better than lying wide awake catastrophizing about my current worries. Even a soundscape like “Bamboo Forest” or “Silk Waves” can do the trick.

Lastly, in the hope of improving focus on my book writing projects, I’m eleven days in to ‘How To Meditate in 30 Days’ with Jeff. Jeff promises that once you master the art of meditation your concentration will be next-level! I’m so glad I found Jeff. My concentration is shot. But I’m learning how to shut out the voices in my head. Be present. Yeeha!

Jane x

ps. I’m not sponsored by Calm App lol. If you fill out a survey on their site you’ll receive a discount voucher within days. Or sign up for a free 7-day trial.

Do leave a comment if you have success, insomniacs.

Sweet future dreams! Nightie night!

A Parody: Pop God Harry Styles Slips Into Queenstown

Harry wears Gucci

The prettiest prince-of-pop, since, well, Prince, slipped into Queenstown on Saturday in his Gulf Stream 550. Harry Styles, the charming Gucci clad kid from Redditch, now 26, and worth a cool sixty-three million quid, is here to film the music video for his latest single.

“Psychedelic Mushroom Pie”, penned during quarantine, in his London pad after a meditative tequila massage is already No. One on UK pop charts, and destined to make this popular solo artist a whole lot more doh-ray-me.

Harry has rocked up in the adventure-playground-for-the-bored-and-famous with a heady-sized entourage of fifteen. This includes hip hop dancers, film crew, sound techs, eyebrow stylist, Gucci stylist (also named Harry.) Plus the ironer of his bellbottom trouser collection, and his Siamese cat, Sweetcorn.

The postponement of his European summer tour can only be a boost to New Zealand’s current domestic tourism drive, which is taking off very slowly in the picturesque lakeside mountain town. On Wednesday morning at 11 am, the only visitors in Queenstown Bay were one hundred mallard ducks escaping duck shooting while searching for breadcrumbs. Along with one lone female in a grey hoodie skulling a bottle of wine.

fuck a duck where is everyone?

Janice Bloomfield (niece of NZ’s newest GQ coverboy Ashley) was lucky enough to catch up with the gorgeous Harry. While it was hard for her twenty-seven-year-old-soul not to see unicorns and rainbow sprinkles every time Harry opened his pretty mouth, her fifty-six- year-old-self kept it together (just) enough to ask a few deep and meaningful questions.

JB: Harry! Our borders are closed! How did you get in? Are you featuring in a new Air New Zealand video or something? Do tell.

HS:  Nah. Spoiler alert. I’m the new face of your domestic tourism campaign - ‘You Cannot Leave! Please See The Country!’ Naw, but seriously I sold my Hollywood mansion earlier this year. I was cool to pay your government's boa-constrictor-sized International Visitor levy. No worries mate! Kamate! Kamate! Kia Ora!

JB: Hey Harry you know a bit of Te Reo. How come?

HES:  After refuelling Gulfy GHES in Auckland, we picked up Cindy and Neve. Cute kid. Then we zipped into to rotten-roo-ah (laughs) sorry, I mean Rotorua. Cindy had hooked up a famil for us at the Te Puia Cultural centre. OMG. I loved it. I wanted to hongi everyone but you know, Covid. My hip hop dancers learned to spin pois. I bought this greenstone tiki.

Harry pulls the tiki, attached to a Gucci gold chain from his beneath his pale pink v-low-v-neck cashmere jumper. JB notices he has no chest hairs, but a very pretty tattoo of a butterfly just below his, urm, pecs. His nails are painted alternately pink and purple.

JB: Beautiful! Harry!

HS: When I heard that tikis are symbols of fertility I bought one. Apparently, I’ve tried to have a baby with a kiwi before now, you might have heard. A Victoria Secret model. Called G... Georgia. I wrote a song about it. It’s weird how lyrics and poems just come to you sometimes when you’re not really thinking about anything. I called the song “Kiwi”.

JB: (I bet a lot of kiwis women (and men) would want to have your baby, Harry.)

It’s a great rock song. ‘I’m having a baby, it’s none of your business.’ Ha ha. Did you see a kiwi? The bird kiwi? Feathery. Short. Long beak. Shuffly. Snuffly.

HES: Yeah! Wee, little fluffballs. Way sexier than the lil British robin red-breast, our national bird. But we legged it to Queenstown (such a great name!) from Rotorua after we’d done the ad campaign biz. With Cindy.

JB: Now with your domestic tourism job out of the way, you’re down here to film the music video for your new hit single. “Psychedelic Mushroom Pie”? Interesting title. Tell me about it. 

HES: (Laughs) Yeah, well, ahem, it’s old news that I like to nibble a handful of magic mushrooms occasionally. Hell, it’s been written about in Rolling Stone magazine! There is nothing like a spot of psilocybin shrooming to get the creative juices flowing. Really. And my sources tell me there used to be a bountiful supply at the head of lake Wha-kah-tee-poo. Blue meanies. Gold tops. Or do you call them gold caps?

JB: Crikey dick, I wouldn’t know. I’m your mum’s age. Past, urm, shrooming. How is your mum, Anne? Did she come on this trip?

HES: No, she stayed home. We detoured to Broome, Australia to buy her a present. I’ve always wanted to buy Paspaley pearls, The Most Beautiful Pearls in The World direct from the source. I got a string for me and one for me Mum. (Harry beamed, showing his trademark dimple. Now the most asked for cosmetic procedure in the US. Source The Sun.)

JB: I dropped my notes. I didn’t know what question to ask next. I felt like I was chairing an interview for a live audience. And not very well. I wished I could give darling Harry some help re forests-of-psilocybe-cubensis, when his eyebrow-stylist popped his head in and said:

ES: Harry me old guv. Times up sorry, luv. Gotta get these badgers waxed and trimmed before the shoot. Your convoy of Landrovers arrive in half . The dancers look brill in those crocheted romper suits you chose, Haz. We’ve peroxided their hair. Gonna look wild when they’re running through the dark fairy forest in the vid.

At that point, Harry is taking off his cashmere jumper, while I’m stashing my dictaphone. All he had on underneath was a mesh bodysuit with Stevie Nicks’ face stencilled on.

HS: ‘Janice it’s been so nice meeting you. A local. Here take my jumper. I always give my interviewers something. And you can’t have my tiki. It’s new! You and my mum would get along great. Hey, maybe we could have a cup of tea when I get back to town. We’re going to stay at a rug bay … no Blanket Bay for a few days. Some sort of resort with horse trekking and degustation grub and wine pairing and that.

I was clutching his jumper, still warm and reeking of the unisex scent, which he is the signature face of - Gucci’s Mémoire d’une Odeur, speechless, when Harry-2, his Gucci stylist walked in singing “Old Town Road.”

H2: Mate! Let’s throw on your new pearls with this 70’s crocheted, multi-coloured, bell-bottomed onesie. White Gucci snakeskin boots. You’ll be matchy matchy with the dancers. (Hums) Psychedelic Mushroom high! (H2’s pupils were the size of a Clydesdale’s hooves.) You can add a velvet beret or a corduroy cheese cutter. Plus a fur stole. It’s going to be cold and damp up there our scout, Neil, tells me. Choff these down and you’ll be toastie as a crumpet. (H2 hands HS a small pouch.)

I took that as my queue to leave. I was dying to ask for a backstage pass for Harry’s NZ tour. Harry Styles plays Auckland’s Spark Arena Monday 23^rd November, 2020. (Source: Ticketmaster.) I opened the door to leave. The Harry’s waved. Smiling. They both had dimples.

HS: Janice! This guy told me in the pub last night that there is this gigantic eagle here that you can take on a scenic flight to Milford Sound. Where do I book?

I had to break it to him that no trekking operator had managed to tame an extinct Haast eagle and get a saddle on it. But that adventure tourism operators were having to get really creative to urn a crust. I guess it’s as likely as that rumoured 2020 One Direction reunion, taking place in Queenstown later in the year.

As they say in the movie biz – watch this space.

Or better still, watch Harry eating watermelon!

Janice xo