Aunt Dorothea's Advice Column

[Aunt Dorothea]

Aunt Dorothea and her esteemed associate Jonathan MDSO are opening a personal advice service to the troubled souls whose hearts and minds bleed words over these pages.

Two have our recent clients have agreed to permit their correspondence to be opened for your scrutiny and to allow appreciation of the quality and depth of the service myself and my colleague can provide.

All personal problems will be handled with the utmost delicacy and answers posted in this thread.

Should you require a more intimate one-on-one session, Aunt Dorothea maintains a weekend suite at The Palace Hotel, Brighton (Please leave your credit card with the Concierge). By appointment only.


Staff Announcement

We have recently lost the services of our linguistic expert, Professor Cunningham, who has been forced to retire with a severe case of lockjaw. We currently have a vacancy for a suitably qualified linguist who can answer reader’s problems concerning all things oral. Please apply in the usual way.

 

[Worried-of Brighton]

Dear Aunt Dorothea

I’ve found it hard to keep up recently, the pace of events weighs heavily upon me and at times I truly despair at what is to become of me. The Master seems fully intent on having his way with me, he watches me when I’m bent on my knees scrubbing the floors, or stands idly by the kitchen fire smoking his pipe while I’m stuffing sausages, I know this only means one thing. He’s insisting I should not lock my bedroom door. He says it’s fire precautions, that the only escape is through the tiny skylight in my attic room. I’m afraid to sleep at night lest he comes calling. I know that if I refuse him, I will be cast destitute and penniless onto the streets, I will be forced to earn my living amongst the street girls and I really don’t think my frail body could take the strain. Cook has told me not to be foolish; she says it will only last for three or four years, until I lose my boyish looks. What should I do? Does a sausage skin make a good kongdom? I think that’s the word, one of the housemaid’s swears by them.

Worried – from Brighton

 

[Aunt Dorothea]

Dear Worried – from Brighton

Pretty place Brighton. Robert sometimes drives me there for the week-end. There is a pretty little tearoom in The Lanes that serves excellent scones with homemade jam. Try the strawberry, I can thoroughly recommend it. Have you visited the Royal Pavilion? Absolutely charming, though slightly eccentric for my taste. The draperies in the ballroom are exquisite, quite as good as one might find in London.

With regard to The Master, of course, one is bound by one’s duty to the household and you should not fret. I’m sure you understand this. If you are really concerned that the fire escape is too small, I suggest you approach the housekeeper to make enquiries with the appropriate authorities. On the matter of ‘sausage skin’s’ I have no familiarity with the subject and I’m not at all clear as to what you infer.

Try a lanoline cream for your knees, it helps smooth the skin.

Aunt Dorothea.

 

[Worried-of Brighton]

Dear Aunt Dorothy

Thank you for your kind reply.

I will make sure to visit the tearoom you mention on my next Sunday off, unfortunately that is nearly three weeks away, The Master has very strict rules about the amount of time we may have off work.

I’ve spoken with the housekeeper as you suggested, she seemed quite put out that I should be bothering her over the fire escape. She told me a young cleaning girl must earn her place in the household, that I must do The Masters bidding.

One thing confused me from her words: she told me ‘What’s sauce for the Goose is sauce for the Gander’. I don’t really see what geese have to do with it. My Father once gave me a Gosling as a pet for Christmas, he told me to look after it well and to make sure it had plenty to eat because Geese only live for one year. He was right, two days before the following Christmas my poor fat Goosy died, Father said he took it away for a decent burial.

The Master continues to follow me around the house, his countenance quite disturbs me, is it normal for a Gentleman to be so red in the face?

I’ve enquired about the lanolin cream and have put aside a farthing a week from my pay to save, I should have enough in six months. This means I have to cut back on other things, Cook as been kind enough to say that I may regard Thursdays potato peelings as my own, she says they will make a nice soup with a few leaves from the garden.

If you could find out something about the sausage skin’s I would be most grateful. I fear The Master grows ever more, he’s started smiling at me!

Yours, Worried – from Brighton

PS. Is the Brighton Pavilion the colourful building with the onion shaped roof? I thought that was a new restaurant where they serve spicy food from the Indian colonies.

 

[Aunt Dorothea]

Dear Worried – from Brighton

My dear Child, please refrain from calling me Dorothy, my name is Dorothea, rather elegant I think you would agree, with a hint of the Ionic. Dorothy reminds me of that vulgar young girl with the yapping mongrel who thought she could sing her way to happiness.

The Master smiles upon you. You see child, there is nothing to fear. Put your worries to one side, I’m quite certain much of what you claim is pure imagination, a young girls thoughts often stray that way. Be assured, it is quite natural, The Master only wants to take care of you.

Pay no heed to the housekeeper’s comments; I’m quite certain, in my own mind, that she was contemplating the Dinner menu.

I had the good fortune to spend last weekend in Brighton, with Bartholomew. The teahouse was up to the mark; you really should visit.

I will raise the sausage skin question with my colleague Jonathan MDSO (Medical Doctor Struck Off). He may be able to shed some light upon a topic quite beyond the realm of my experience.

Try knitting, it’s an admirable pastime for idle fingers, I would imagine your hands to be too course to contemplate crochet.

Aunt Dorothea.

PS: I’ve enclosed two Potato Soup recipes, you can omit the Smoked Haddock from the first, it’s not always available.

 

[Worried-of Brighton]

Dear Aunt Dorothea

I’m sorry for calling you Aunt Dorothy, I thought it was a typing error. Is Ionic a medicine?

Calamity has struck. This morning I was unable to locate my undergarments. I did my usual monthly wash, both pairs, and hung them in the scullery yard to dry. This morning they were nowhere to be found.

It’s been a rather awkward day. I was instructed to scrub the wooden boarded floor in the Library. The Master was there, reading The Times; I think that is what he was doing, he seemed to be making an awful lot of rustling and grunting noises from behind the newspaper whilst I bent to my task in front of him. I tried to retain some degree of modesty but quite honestly that is almost impossible in the new French uniforms, we would get them this week, just when I’ve lost my drawers.

I hate to bother you but if you have any knitting recipes for young ladies drawers, I would find them most useful.
I was sent on an errand by Cook and called by the tearooms, they look very nice from what I could see peering on tiptoe over the gingham window drapes. A young man seemed very taken by me, do you suppose he’s rich?

Any advice on the sausage skins?

Worried – from Brighton.

PS: I thought you said your husband’s name was Robert.

 

[Fireman Jake]

Dear Jonathan MDSO

I’m a young man in need of advice regarding girls.

I recently spied a young girl whilst in Brighton collecting sheaths for the Firemen’s choppers, they are a sort of leather pouch affair that holds the chopper snugly against the body, wouldn’t do to have your chopper flying about whilst trying to tackle a fire.

This young girl was peering through the window of a tearoom, on tiptoes. In my opinion, she was revealing a little too much of her body, but you know how fashion is these days. She was very slim built, almost boyish, reminded me a lot of Christopher, my younger brother, we used to share a bed, together with the other three brothers, it was quite a tight fit in our tiny farm cottage.

I followed this girl to where see seemed to live. A big house. Do you think she’s rich?

I would be most grateful if you could tell me what my next step should be.

Yours affectionately

Fireman Jake.

PS: I think she might be foreign, she was wearing strange clothes.

 

[Jonathan MDSO]

Dear Fireman Jake

What a splendid letter. Fireman eh. Jolly good chap, utmost admiration for a man in uniform. I thought of joining the Dragoons myself; charge around on a horse with a lance in my hand. Super fun, a bit like Polo I imagine.

Jake is a jolly good Anglo-Saxon name. Suits a fireman, in my opinion, and I note you come from a land owning family. I can imagine you now, wouldn’t surprise me if you have thighs like English Oaks. I can just picture you chaps, out tackling a fire, then back to the fire station for a shower, glistening bodies, choppers in hand. Spiffing stuff.

Now, this young Gal. Take my advice and keep well away, especially from the foreign sort, there’s no telling what strange habits they harbour. I can assure you, you will not achieve the same level of camaraderie with a Gal as you have from your strapping Firemen chums.

Sheaths for choppers, reminds me of something I’m supposed to do, can’t think what.

Write to me again if you insist on following up on this Girlie thing. Though I should have thought my comments re: above, should be sufficient to dissuade you from contemplating such an erroneous path.

Yours, with admiration,

Jonathan MDSO

 

[Jonathan MDSO]

Memo to Aunt Dorothea

Dear Dottie

Sausage skins eh! Well can’t say I’ve heard of that before. I’ll ask around the chaps down at the Club. Tell the young lady to put a few to one side, if she can lay her hands on them, could save a chap from laying out hard earned cash on ‘Lord Peter’s Overcoat’. I’ll get back to you once I’ve a clear idea of which end to tie the knot.

Jonners.

 

[Fireman Jake]

Dear Jonathan MDSO

Thank you for your letter what I read with keen anticipation.

I’m afraid I may have misled you. I’m not yet a qualified Fireman, I’m still serving my apprenticeship. My main job is to keep the Firemen’s choppers and helmets well polished, any tips you may have in that department would be very much appreciated.

I’m rather keen on this young lady, I don’t mind that she may be foreign. As I told you before, she has the kind of appearance that I’m sure I will find to my liking.

I was thinking of inviting her to a meal. Would that be the right thing to do?

Yours, with affection,

Fireman (almost) Jake.

 

[Guest]

Dear Aunt Dorothea

First of all, I'd like to thank you for providing a much needed service around these parts. There was a gaping hole, and you found the niche nicely.

Now, onto my friend's problem (yes, it's not my problem, it's my friend's). She's got fat toes. How ever much she uses those little dumbbell weights on them, and flexes them and makes them do star-jumps, they just will not lose weight.

Why is this a problem? I hear you ask. Well, you see I, um, I mean, my friend, wants to wear some really pointy shoes. Not quite winkle-pickers, but close to the feminine equivalent.

What can she do?

Desperate friend of Desperate for Thin Toes.

 

[neonlyte]

Dear Aunt Dorothea

First of all, I'd like to thank you for providing a much needed service around these parts. There was a gaping hole, and you found the niche nicely.

Now, onto my friend's problem (yes, it's not my problem, it's my friend's). She's got fat toes. How ever much she uses those little dumbbell weights on them, and flexes them and makes them do star-jumps, they just will not lose weight.

Why is this a problem? I hear you ask. Well, you see I, um, I mean, my friend, wants to wear some really pointy shoes. Not quite winkle-pickers, but close to the feminine equivalent.

What can she do?

Desperate friend of Desperate for Thin Toes.

Dear Desperate friend of Desperate for Thin Toes.

Shoes! Oh you have come to the right place.

My dear we could talk all night, but Augustine will be calling by for a private session in the consulting room.

I seem to recall the Chinese have a solution for chubby piggy-wiggies but I fear the time and commitment involved may be beyond you friends capabilities. Of course there is surgery, I can't help but think that might be a little drastic.

Has she tried a rasp file? So much more effective than a normal nail file.

I have too have a friend with a similar predicament, she buys her shoes from Hytapia, such a caring company, I enclose their details, for your friend. You will see they offer a slightly fuller toe, apple room for the chubby digits.

Oswald bought me a pair, from the boot range, for that 'special occassion' we Girls enjoy so much. He was particularly taken by the heels.

Buy black dear, red is so vulgar.

Aunt Dorothea.

 

[neonlyte]

SHIT!

Fucked that up!

 

[Guest]

SHIT!

Fucked that up!

PMSL!!!!!

BAHAHAHHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!



(Ok, gonna try to compose myself now and attempt to write a reply on behalf of my "friend".)

LOL!!!

LMAO!!!

 

[Jonathan MDSO]

Der Freman Jake

Spot of bother heer so xcuse the clmsy typing.

Seafood. I’m told Gals rathr partial to seefood, alwys taste of prwns or something frm wht chsps say. Though my pinion is same, mistake.

Let me know hwo u get on.

Wil rite with tips, re: polishing helmetts.

xx

J MDSO

PA: Hve u photos of chaps holding ther choopers? Good fr moral u see.

 

[Guest]

Dear Desperate friend of Desperate for Thin Toes.

Shoes! Oh you have come to the right place.

My dear we could talk all night, but Augustine will be calling by for a private session in the consulting room.

I seem to recall the Chinese have a solution for chubby piggy-wiggies but I fear the time and commitment involved may be beyond you friends capabilities. Of course there is surgery, I can't help but think that might be a little drastic.

Has she tried a rasp file? So much more effective than a normal nail file.

I have too have a friend with a similar predicament, she buys her shoes from Hytapia, such a caring company, I enclose their details, for your friend. You will see they offer a slightly fuller toe, apple room for the chubby digits.

Oswald bought me a pair, from the boot range, for that 'special occassion' we Girls enjoy so much. He was particularly taken by the heels.

Buy black dear, red is so vulgar.

Aunt Dorothea.

Dear Aunt Dorothea,

You lovely "lady".

Thank you for your swift response, my friend is most grateful. We both clicked on that link and found the shoes there to be quite something. Those heeled ballet shoes are sexy bitches, and for the stubby/chubby toed amongst us. Well, not that I am, it's my friend, you see.

The rasp file is a possibility. Maybe I'll ask another friend to have a go. She's too squeemish to do it herself.

No, surgery is out of the question, as is binding. Well, binding of the feet anyway.

Can I send my man friend around to see you now? He's gagging for it.

Dersperate friend of Desperate for Thin Toes.

 

[Aunt Dorothea]

Dear Desperate friend of Desperate for Thin Toes.

So pleased my advice proved useful.

Please inform your Gentleman friend I have a vacancy between 11.00 and 12.00 this evening, I should be able to fit him in.

Tell him to leave his credit card with the Concierge.

I do hate to mention it but you made a tincy wincy spelling mistake. I only point it out because I can tell you are the type of Girl that likes to keep abreast of these things.

Sloppiness is so unbecoming in the wrong context.

Best of luck with the toes, your 'friends', naturally.

Must dash, Oswald needs my assistance.

Aunt Dorothea.