So this afternoon Arsenal take on Aston Villa at Wembley. The FA Cup Final. Biggest game of the… month. Used to be the biggest game of the year, then it got devalued by crass commercialisation of other factors in the game and now no-one cares. Unless they’re in the final. So to celebrate this event, I’ll be at the Alexander McQueen exhibition at the V&A.

Because I’m a new man. And thus will happily forsake football (well, happily forsake Arsenal) in favour of a retrospective of a truly inspirational fashion designer tragically taken from ‘us’ at the height of his career. I miss him every day.

I have no idea what he made. I know he never made Levi jeans, nor anything sold in Marks & Spencers. The stuff he made was ‘creative’. ‘Artistic’. Art forms that cover the human body. Particularly the female body. Even though he was gay. Still he produced wonderful creations that beautifully adorned a size zero anorexic. I don’t know if there was a general market for women who want to walk round wearing a Picasso on their backs, or an off-the-shoulder Manet with a split thigh.

The thing is, you have to book these events in advance. They sell out. So we (ie: Mel) booked it months ago. And ‘May 30th’ meant nothing to Mel at that time. Nor me, really. Only later it became evident that there was ‘football conflict’. As there is virtually every Saturday and Sunday throughout the entire year, some Thursdays, many Tuesdays and Wednesdays and the odd Monday.

Yet I’m happy to go. Not because I’m a McQueen devotee, but because the V&A do the best exhibitions ever. They did the Bowie one and it was mind-blowingly spectacular. So I have high expectations. I want holographic models, multi-media presentations, I want the ghost of McQueen talking directly and personally to me.

And I won’t check the score at Wembley any more than I absolutely have to.

Sepp Blatter re-elected? What a fucking joke. As is FIFA.

Happy Saturday

A xxxx