It’s the same gene or chromosome in me that made me dye my hair black, crimp it, wear white make up and strut around in black and purple crushed velvet and leather when I was in my early 20s that also makes me love the goth look in our home. Our dining room, with its dark red walls has been crying out for a glass candelabra just like this one, not that I realised it until today!! So, when I saw this in the C-word display in that bastion of the good, the bad and the bloody awful, Trago Mills, I just knew it’d have to end up on our dining table (on a cloth of burgundy crushed velvet).

I know it’s one of those things that you either love or loathe and I’m quite prepared to admit that I’m fully aware of the dodginess of this choice of lighting for our room, but to be honest, I don’t give a shit and do you know why? Because I LOVE it that’s why. I love it’s kitsch-ness and I love the way that the candle light sparkles off the glass and I love the glow of the red wall behind it.

Perhaps it’s the paint-fumes from spending the last hour or so in the glory-hole of a bug-infested larder, which I decided I may as well “go with the flow” and decorate since all the food has been on the side in the kitchen for the last week anyway, while we’ve been trying to eradicate bugs. I’ve bought new pine board to make new shelves and DM has given them lovely rounded edges and sanded them while I’ve been painting the walls and ceiling a nice, clinical white.

While I’ve worked, I’ve had the kitchen-fi on at full blast with one of my favourite albums of all-time – the stupendously fab “Rattlesnakes” from Lloyd Cole and the Commotions. I cannot tell you what a treat it was. I’ve not listened to it for yonks and I must say that as soon as the first chords of “Perfect Skin” bounced out of the speakers and into my deaf lug-holes, I was singing along like a good un.

I once was offered the chance to meet Lloyd Cole by a pal of mine who was roadie-ing for him and while chatting to him after a gig in Brighton, he said “oh do you want to meet Lloyd, I’ll take you backstage if you like”. I declined on the basis that Lloyd Cole’s music was so important to me at the time that I just knew I’d

a. blurt out something inane like “oh I just love your album”
b. clam up completely and stand there shuffling about from foot to foot grinning like a fool
c. cry
d. try to snog him or offer to mother his children…..

As I’m sure you’ll agree, any of the above would have been purely embarrassing so I declined and I’ve sort of been glad I didn’t make a complete arse of myself all those years ago but equally gutted I never met my hero.

You see, it’s simple – a man that can write lyrics like “why must you tell me all your secrets when it’s hard enough to love you knowing nothing” and “do you want to go to heaven or would you rather not be saved”….I’m not quite clear why and maybe it’s either hormonal or my own vacuous-ness but when you couple that with the jangly guitars and catchy tunes then I’m pretty much in heaven but when you add the cute (I’ve always assumed)-public-schoolboy-floppy-fringe-arty-farty-ness on top then it really puts me in a place that I have loved to revisit tonight.

So, Rattlesnakes does it for me.

Interestingly (or not), this was the very first album I ever owned on CD. My dad gave me his cast –off CD player – must have been 1985….Daddy has always been a real “gadget man” and he was already onto his second by the time most people were waking up to CDs. I already owned Rattlesnakes on LP and bought the CD, when I used to bore the pants off my friends by flicking between the CD and LP going “ooohhhh isn’t the CD GREAT”. I think I bored the pants off all of them by playing that album four times a day too.

What’s all this got to do with the gothy candelabra? Not a lot - Lloyd Cole's seminal album can't in any way be described as gothy even with the most vivid of imagination - other than the paint fumes made me think the shot would be a good one. Let’s face it, it’d have been better if I’d opened a new pack of candles and used fresh ones rather than the grimy ones from the end of the old box…..

Last year, hairy golden balls were my subject!