I wouldn't class myself as the jealous type… in truth I'm very, very happy with life just the way it is. HOWEVER, of late I've been aware of a strange, churny sort of feeling, twisting in the depths of my tummy whenever my dinner date's meal is set upon the restaurant table. Initially I put this down to the fact that I am always starving, I'm one of those poor afflicted souls suffering from the much maligned disease Greedy Pig-itus; but when there was still churning during a recent pudding I was very glad of the epiphany which came during the cheese course… I have menu envy!
I'm used to town envy, it's a much sniggered over fact that I always want to live in the last place I visited. Handbag envy is a feeling I've managed to control for years, although I have been known to stroke the bags of others when I think they can't see me. The same is true of ginger hair. On a recent trip to Wellington my head nearly exploded when a gorgeous redhead hung her vintage Hermes over the back of the chair behind mine and ordered a burger with 'the lot'… this just after my Caesar salad had been delivered, AAAAARRRGH!!
Wellington's, Cuba St is definitely the object of my street envy affections right now, gorgeous vintage shops, delightful restaurants and the best bar in New Zealand, staffed by the most informative barmen this side of the Tasman. So switched on were the Matterhorn men that they quelled an impending attack of drink envy with a tall glass of icy Grey Goose vodka, lime and tonic, delivered with such aplomb that I became the heady receiver of my first ever dose of 'being the envied one.'
CLASS,… now where's the Henna?
Cuba St, then and now