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Posted Wed May 16th, 2012 11:49pm Post subject: Language is the dew on a fresh apple

We all know (I asume) this text from a sketch from a very early F&L series:

"Language is my mother, my father, my husband, my brother, my sister, my whore, my mistress, my check-out girl... language is a complimentary moist lemon-scented cleansing square or handy freshen-up wipette. Language is the breath of God. Language is the dew on a fresh apple, it's the soft rain of dust that falls into a shaft of morning light as you pluck from a old bookshelf a half-forgotten book of erotic memoirs. Language is the creak on a stair, it's a spluttering match held to a frosted pane, it's a half-remembered childhood birthday party, it's the warm, wet, trusting touch of a leaking nappy, the hulk of a charred Panzer, the underside of a granite boulder, the first downy growth on the upper lip of a Mediterranean girl. It's cobwebs long since overrun by an old Wellington boot."

Totally unrelated I stumble on this fashion blog where one reads:

"Peach is the colour of that nostalgic late summer glow that’s somehow settled it’s diffusing light over your entire childhood. Peach is post-sunset cocktails when the sand gets cold. Peach is driving home with the top down and Fleetwood Mac on and the beach towel over your knees to keep warm. Peach is the colour of your glass of rosado as the sun comes up over the terrace. Peach is the surreal flash of flamingoes over the salt flats driving home at 6am."

So my question is: did the writer of this 'peach' fashion blog borrow from SF directy -or- do they (the fashion writer and SF) both pay tribute to some 20th or 19th century British writer's particular style?


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