Strange Fruits

I’ve never considered myself a fussy eater, but the moment a canned fruit cocktail is put in front of me floating in its syrup slime I feel like everything I ate since last September is coming back up through my colon into my mouth and spewing out onto my mother in laws white festive table cloth. How was this monstrosity not banned in the eighties along with big hair and power dressing? Little bits of unidentifiable fruit floating in an unidentifiable liquid for god knows how long can only be appetising to the man lost in the desert for fifty days, even then he’d probably believe it to be some kind of unwanted mirage. Still, grandmothers have a habit of serving up strange foods. It is more surprising however when a young person enjoys fondue, this phenomenon completely baffled me on my first Flemish Christmas. Instead of a hearty piece of turkey you get a dangerously boiling can of oil in the middle of the table where everyone must WAIT for the food to be cooked. Cooking your own food on Christmas seems like the kind of thing only necessary when you’re thirty and have your own screaming brawling family. The fondue game turns into a kind of fishing competition when your tiny piece of undercooked deep fried meat falls in the depth of the fire pit forever and you have to fight Uncle Lieven for a tiny cocktail sausage. Oh and it doesn’t just stop at meat fondue, if you’ve been particularly bad in a previous life you will receive a cheese medley fondue or heaven forbid; a fish fondue. Yes, cooking a lobster on your kitchen table is apparently to some, a novel experience. Why don’t I just bring out the old catsuit and shag pile and pretend like the internet didn’t happen while I’m at it. Better yet let’s go back to putting all our food in a good old fashioned gelatine aspic. Ah, those were the days.


The fatal flower is the perverted shy girl, the one you wouldn’t suspect. Under a soft exterior lies a complex being with an unyielding wildness, anchored to the earth by her humble nature and inexplicable dry humour. She is the femme of now, the modern woman who’s thoughts transcend through cultures and time.

Over the coming months let ‘La Fleur Fatale’ be your guide to the hidden insights and stories of a watchful woman’s eye navigating through the ‘European’ way of life. Struggles and mishaps ensue as life is embraced and the thorny introvert femme clammers for life’s answers. All possible subjects are covered from death to Kim Kardashian and from sisterhood to the perfect strawberry frappe.

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