The office is no longer discussing fashion. Stop press.

Although we haven’t got to the topic of the world’s problems just yet, we have moved on to another very important problem, that of the holidays.

We are in the midst of an obsession and even my beloved Mr.G has left leaving a vacuum of style. With no-one to stalk, fatigue has set in and even my trusty gossip magazines appear to be on holiday. Now you maybe about to feel a little short-changed with my insider tales and I admit they are not quite on par with Mr.G and J. Lo in Portofino or backstage at Milan fashion week but I tell you now in advance because right now they are they only gossip you are going to get because e-v-e-r-y-o-n-e is away.The only people left are reception (and you know already I am not always well-liked by them) who did happen to tell me a little story about how the doors to our chic palace are causing a few problems. Seems some people are a little tired around here....

The inside joke for a few of us here (and for you dear readers a little insight into our world) is that if you come for an interview the first "unofficial" test is whether or not you can get through the doors.

Before you insert the joke, believe me there have been some very (very) important people through these doors who have got it wrong. It goes without saying the doors are huge, and can be a little intimidating at first (I'm not proud to admit I also hovered a little) but the terrible mistake some people make is in assuming the doors are actually automatic. This is unfortunately where the embarrassment can set in (and pardon the pun, the door) for unsuspecting guests and pretenders. Honestly though when you really think about it, whomever heard of automatic doors except in a supermarket?? Mr.G would never consent to such cheap tricks.

No, we have, and quite rightly so, manual doors, which unfortunately some visitors/pretenders just don't get and so end up standing on the doorstep like waifs and strays waiting for them to open. The word from reception-land is that this morning, a visitor, did the usual and expected the doors to automatically open (we repeat...not a supermarket) but actually didn't wait for them to part (not going to happen) and went so far as to crash into the glass, like a pigeon. It literally is tough in fashion land.

The relief is that it can’t have been anyone important as it’s A-U-G-U-S-T.

Ring my bell at behindtheseamsgirl@gmail.com